Chapter 19 Aiden
Chapter 19 AIDEN
A iden was glad that once again one of his embarrassing stories had amused Nora. He paused and took in the quiet.
“Do you hear that?”
She tensed. “Hear what?”
“Exactly!”
She furrowed her brows, then her eyes opened wide. “No more thunder! And the storm sounds lighter. Maybe the tornado—”
His fingers on her lips interrupted her. “Let’s not tempt fate, yes? You taught me that.” He let his hand linger a little longer than was proper, enjoying the softness under his fingertips. It was his subtle yet assertive way of telling her, I’m still here, should you feel ready . Aiden’s lips still tingled from the searing kiss that he so enjoyed before Nora rejected him.
Yes, Nora had rejected him. Might as well call it by its name.
No, stop , she’d said when he couldn’t keep his bloody paws from roaming around her beautiful body. It was well within her right to stop him. And he wouldn’t start anything again—as much as he wanted to—not until she made it clear it was what she wanted, too.
“I was going to say maybe we’re in the eye of the storm,” Nora spoke against his finger, which he then lowered with a light caress. That was as far as he dared to go.
“Oh. I prefer to think that—”
“Shh. Don’t jinx it,” she said with a smile.
“Right. Maybe they’ll soon lift the state of emergency. Lovely as this basement is, I miss the fireplace. And I think the sofa up there is more comfortable, anyway.” For many activities other than sitting , he brazenly thought.
“The weather app hasn’t sent updates, and the radio station hasn’t reported any changes. I guess this loveseat will have to do until then.”
Not sofa, not couch. Loveseat. He knew he shouldn’t read too much into it but couldn’t help imagining how the two of them could do justice to that name. Loveseat.
Aiden imagined how her bare skin would feel against his; imagined the beautiful sounds she would make in his ear; how warm and soft she would be against his touch. In just a few hours he would be on a plane to LA. He should seize whatever time he had left and enjoy it as much as she would allow.
“Aiden?” Her voice wasn’t a whisper, as it had been in his daydream. “It seems like you were far away just then.”
No. I was right here , he thought. “Just, uh, reminiscing.”
“Reminiscing. Yeah... I do it a lot, too.”
Aiden knew Nora was attracted to him. Yet, something held her back—and he would never force himself on a woman, much less one who expressly said no . This knowledge sobered him somewhat, though he still needed something to distract him from those so delectable, so improper thoughts. He cleared his throat. “What’s the next question?”
“It’s number thirty. ‘When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?’”
“You, my darling, have the honor of being the last person to see me cry. I...” He averted his eyes. “Thank you for putting up with me. I don’t usually talk about these things, and it was good to open my heart to you.”
She nodded. “Glad to be of service. And, obviously, you were also the last one to see me cry. It doesn’t happen often. Last time before today was five months ago, in front of Jay when we broke up. God, I cried so much my eyes hurt. He cried, too, so I wasn’t alone in that. The whole break-up thing was dramatic because we still had feelings for each other. Living together was not working, though, so we parted ways.”
“I can relate to that. God, I hate break-ups,” Aiden told her. “Well, I don’t think anyone enjoys them, but they’re always so hard for me. I’m lucky I haven’t had many.”
Nora gave him an are-you-serious look. “A confirmed bachelor, huh?”
He rubbed his neck, in an attempt to release his sudden tension. A boy-scout image was not easy to keep up, as Becky reminded him every-so-often. Luckily, he didn’t need to keep up any image in front of Nora. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended by that. If you must know, I’ve had trysts. Actual girlfriends, however, have been few and far between. My relationships tend to last a while, so I’ve had few break-ups. And, as I was saying,” he gave her a pointed look, “shortly before moving to LA, I started dating an older woman. God, I fancied myself in love with her, though in hindsight I know it was just puppy-love. And even though I thought she loved me, too, I was a mere boy toy to her. After she gave me the boot, I drank myself into oblivion.”
It wasn’t one of his best moments. Aiden had fallen hard for Harriet. She had approached him after a play, when he was still a stage actor, inviting him for a drink in her flat. Captivated by her confidence and assertiveness, he surrendered his heart, handing it to her without asking for anything in return but her attention. And, for seven blissful months, Aiden threw himself into the maelstrom that was Harriet. He’d let her consume every bit of him, until she’d sated herself and vanished from his life.
Young as he was, the intense relationship—and its sudden ending—had been devastating. The day Aiden finally accepted she wouldn’t be coming back he aimlessly roamed the streets, and quite befittingly found himself hunched over a sticky counter in a random pub. His blubbering, sorry self kept chugging whatever poison the bartender sent his way, until a gentle, feminine hand landed on his shoulder.
The gentle hand belonged to an acquaintance of his—a fellow actress. Aiden ended up ruining her blouse with his drunken mess. He and the actress became close friends—Aiden always gifted her with a new blouse for her birthday, both as a joke and as a token of gratitude. What would Nora think if she knew Anna Rheims, a household name and Academy Award winner, had helped nurse his broken heart?
Nora’s words dragged him back to the present. “Wow, you had your own Mrs. Robinson.”
“In my defense, I didn’t date her daughter.”
Disgust shone through Nora’s eyes. “Ew! Where did that come from?”
“Really, Nora? You can’t make a reference to Mrs. Robinson without knowing the entire story.”
“It’s just that now I have the picture of you dating one of my grandmother’s book club friends and I’m—”
“Oh, no, Harriet was only ten years older than me.” Nora’s face relaxed. “I don’t know what became of her after that. Made it a point to keep not knowing.” Even though, sometimes, he wondered about her.
Nora had a pensive look on her face. “I can’t imagine why someone would let go of you. I know I wouldn’t.”
“Then don’t.”
She widened her eyes, as if only then realizing what she’d said. And for once Aiden didn’t regret his big mouth. She had started it, after all. And he wanted to let her know he was still game, if she so wished. After a few seconds, though, Nora decided to pretend nothing had happened, as usual. “And by yourself?”
What? Oh, right. The question. The last time he’d cried by himself. “Well, I already gave you my best, might as well give you the rest. Promise you won’t laugh? I was watching this cheesy film—no, I won’t tell you which one—and the ending was absolutely, unexpectedly sad. It caught me unawares, I cried like my dog had just died. And I don’t even have a dog.”
“Funny you mention that. The last time I cried by myself was thanks to a movie, too, and I only cried because the dog died. The dog was the best part of the story, no kidding.”
That hit close to home. One of his latest films also had a dog dying in the end. Aiden had been vehemently against it—“You just don’t kill children and dogs in films, don’t make me do it,” he had said to the director, to no avail. “What was the film?” He was afraid to ask but had to know.
“It was one Dipa and her wife recommended. Falling Leaves , I think was the name? I don’t even remember. Dipa has the worst taste ever.”
Of bloody course it would have to be his film. Maybe it was a good thing, then, that he’d looked so different when playing his character, a drug dealer named Hank Calvin. Even Aiden’s mum hadn’t recognized him at first, not with that splendid mustache. Too bad Becky forbade him to keep it. “You didn’t like the film, then?”
“No!” Nora spoke with both her voice and her arms. “Wasted two hours of my life. Couldn’t connect to any of the characters, except the poor dog.”
“The dog did an outstanding job, I agree.” And it was true. Hunter was the sweetest and most well-behaved border collie. The filming had been a nightmare, there was always someone showing up late, missing their call-time, and the director was borderline abusive. Still, he had the urge to defend his film. “Come on, the whole thing wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, you’re a fan! I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, don’t worry. We can agree to disagree.” Aiden knew he should change the subject, so he took the magazine from Nora’s hand. “Thirty-one: ‘Tell your partner something that you like about them already.’ Write your answer, then exchange the notes.”
“Does it really say to write our answers?” Nora asked. “Let me see it.” She reached for the magazine, but he raised it over his head. “Let me see it! I bet you’re making this up.” In her attempt to grab the magazine, Nora threw herself against Aiden’s body. As a reflex, he put his hand forward to block her, poking her in the ribs by accident.
The loud squeal caught him by surprise.
“Are you ticklish?” He grinned wickedly.
“No . . . ?” she said, mock terror in her eyes.
She might as well have said, “yes, please.” His nimble fingers tapped her sides in alternate light and sharp prods. Nora contorted herself, laughing so hard tears fell down her cheeks. She tried to fend his hands off with half-hearted slaps in between guffaws. Aiden kept tickling her. Her reaction was far too amusing, and this time around she didn’t ask him to stop. She wiggled back in the loveseat as he tickled her without pause or mercy, until she couldn’t escape, trapped flush under his body.
Then the laughter stopped. It was replaced by something else entirely—something altogether sultry and enticing. She put her hands on his chest, and the heat of her palms burned his skin through his clothes. Then her fingers grasped his shirt and she pulled him to her, instead of pushing him back. His heart jumped—still, he kept his own hands away from her, so she wouldn’t feel pressured. Nora’s scent, her delicious scent, overwhelmed him, and Aiden inhaled deeply, taking in her sweet, feminine aroma. Candlelight flickered in her eyes, two beacons in a starless night and in them he saw his reflection.
Was she ready to resume the moment-that-never-happened?
“Aiden?” she said in a soft, husky voice. Her breath sped up.
“Yes?” He couldn’t disguise his desire. This was it. He could already feel—
“I really need to pee.”
It took him a second to process her words, so different from what he’d hoped she would say. You’re blocking her way. Move, you tosser.
“I’ll be right back. Stay where you are.”
As Nora scurried to the small bathroom in the back of the basement, Aiden took a moment to recompose himself. He didn’t know why she hesitated. Was she afraid of getting hurt? Or was she unwilling to raise the stakes between them? But their time together was flying by. Maybe he should be more straightforward with her?
He heard the toilet flush. He had to make a decision quickly. What if—
The shrill sound of her panicked screams pierced through the now-faint patter of rain.
In no time, Aiden was at the door. Nora screeched in what he guessed was Portuguese, clearly distressed. He reached for the handle, and almost got hit in the face as the door opened abruptly revealing a wild woman. She hid behind his back, clutching his hoodie and not letting go even when he tried to turn around to face her.
“Kill it, kill it! For the love of God!” Her hands pushed him towards the bathroom.
“Kill what?” Maybe it was a rat seeking shelter from the storm. Maybe it was a spider— dear Lord, please don’t let it be a spider —or a giant toad— please, Lord, let it be a spider. He couldn’t let her down, so he put on his best superhero face and opened the door... to nothing.
“Nora, love, there’s nothing here. What did—” He turned around to find her already back on the sofa, wrapped in the blanket, only one eye visible. “Are you quite all right?”
“Just kill the damn thing!” The blanket muffled her squeaky voice, and Aiden almost laughed but held himself back. He shouldn’t make fun of her, regardless of how adorable and silly she looked.
Mission accepted , he thought as he entered the small bathroom, looking for the offending monster, whatever it was. He didn’t see a thing—until a moving black-brownish speck caught his attention. That had to be the smallest cockroach ever to roam a lady’s house.
“Please tell me this whole scene is not because of this tiny insect.”
“Is it dead already? Please, Aiden.”
Something in her small voice compelled him to comply. Sorry, little guy , he said to himself. Having no shoes at hand, Aiden crushed the cockroach under a piece of toilet paper, then discarded it in the toilet bowl. Nora was still hiding under the blanket, so after washing his hands he approached with loud steps so as not to frighten her. “Hey, you’re safe now. What is it about the co—”
“Don’t say it!”
“I’m sorry. Why are you so afraid? I agree, it’s a disgusting insect. Still...”
“I have had this phobia since I was born, okay?”
“You can’t remember anything from the time you were born.”
“I can’t explain it,” Nora said but tried to explain, anyway. “I just know how it is. My mom was pregnant with me, and she went into labor after seeing a huge flying... yuck... I inherited her fear. It’s in my DNA, I guess.”
“Well, considering that I faint whenever I see blood, your cockroach—”
Nora shivered. “Aiden!”
“—problem is totally legitimate. Fear not, fair lady. The monster is no more. ‘It has ceased to be; it’s expired and rests in peace, it’s an ex-insect!’”
Nora took her time coming out of her blanket shell, eyeing every corner of the basement, biting her fingernails. She completely missed the Monty Python reference, though.
“Your problem is solved and we should finish the questions already.” Aiden looked at the questionnaire and remembered what almost—then hadn’t—happened before Nora had a call of nature. The moment was gone. Damn that bug. “Ready to write what you like about me? We should do this in secret. Of course, the magazine doesn’t tell us to, but I thought it would be more interesting this way. So we won’t influence one another.” He sat down by her side, as she rearranged the blanket over them.
“I knew you were lying!” Nora said and nodded towards the emergency box. “Could you get pen and paper, pants on fire?”
Pants on fire. If only she knew.
Aiden gave her a bemused look. “You put pen and paper in your emergency box?”
“It proved to be useful, didn’t it?”
She had a point. He fetched a pen and a notepad from the box, then handed them to Nora.
Her brow scrunched in concentration. Aiden was curious about her handwriting. Would it be cursive, with elegant curls? Maybe print, neatly arranged across the page? Or chicken scratch, almost illegible? It was rare to see someone’s handwriting these days. It felt almost intimate.
“Okay, I’m done.” Nora ripped out the page and folded it in half, then gave the notepad to him.
Aiden considered using the opportunity to reveal himself, but how would Nora react?
With his block letter style, he wrote:
DISCLAIMER: THIS ANSWER IS SELF-CENTRED. I LIKE THAT I CAN BE MYSELF W/ YOU, IN A WAY I DON’T REMEMBER BEING W/ ANYONE ELSE. MAYBE BECAUSE I DON’T FEEL I SHOULD MEET ANY EXPECTATIONS YOU HAVE OF ME, SINCE WE’VE BARELY MET.
The answer carried more truth than Aiden cared to admit, but it also carried a lie. He didn’t feel the need to meet any expectations of her—not because they’d barely met, but because he had kept her in the dark.
“It seems they’re kinda repeating themes now,” Nora said while Aiden finished writing his brief answer.
“It’s as though they’re forcing the participants to acknowledge there’s a feeling growing between them, just to prove their point. Here, let’s swap our answers.”
Her handwriting was not particularly beautiful but full of personality:
I like how you make me feel, comfortable and relaxed. Like I can be myself around you, no need to play games or pretend that I’m perfect. Too self-centered?
They both looked up, then started laughing.
“This feels like those magic tricks from the telly, when a magician writes something on a piece of paper, and it impossibly appears inside a locked vault. Uncanny.”
She smiled. “Well, it’s good to know we are on the same page.”
“We’re not. They are different pages from the same notepad.”
At the roll of her eyes, Aiden expected her to slap his arm—but it didn’t come this time. Maybe she also wondered if they were indeed on the same line of the same page. She retrieved the magazine, not giving him time to dwell on that.
“Oh, again with the somber subjects. Question thirty-two is, ‘What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?’ Wow, this is something people nowadays should consider more often.”
“Yes!” Aiden agreed. “I think that the suffering of another human being is not joke material. You see people making jokes with themes like racism, child abuse, sexual violence, and it’s just sick. Sick, wrong, and unacceptable. There’s so much more to laugh about in this world.”
“You’re right. I would add one more example to your list. Domestic violence. My mom never pressed charges against my dad when he hit her, and I don’t even think she holds a grudge against him. She doesn’t have to, because I hold it for her. Unfortunately, for her generation and the others before, the thinking was, ‘Men are aggressive, it’s part of their nature.’ If a man ever laid a finger on me , I would... I would...” There was a fire in her eyes, and Aiden could only pity anyone who would dare to do her harm.
“Come to me, so we could go together to the police? I’m your man for anything. It’s there in the Manual ,” he said.
“It’s good to know you have my back. Oh, I forgot to add: It’s not okay to joke about Star Wars . And I’m not kidding.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
The Star Trek quip made Nora narrow her eyes. However, since Aiden had followed her rule, she couldn’t complain about it. She passed him the magazine.
Aiden huffed. “Oh, my. Here’s another heavy one. Thirty-three asks: ‘If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?’”
“That’s deep. I guess it would be telling my dad all I ever wanted was to hear he was sorry for all the trauma he caused me and my mom, especially that time he was physically abusive. I’m not sure I would have truly forgiven him. Still, it would be nice to hear him apologize. He never has.”
“Why haven’t you told him that?” Aiden asked.
“Because it’s hard to open your heart to someone who has broken it multiple times. I guess I was afraid we would end up fighting about it and he would continue to never apologize, and I’d regret humiliating myself. And after his call tonight... I’m even more certain of this. But whatever.” After a brief pause, she indicated it was his turn to answer with a raise of her eyebrows.
“For me, that would have to be talking to Kate. The ex-girlfriend. I told you about it already. Also... can I give a second answer?”
She smiled softly. “Permission granted.”
“Perhaps I would say a thing or two to Mr. Tomlin—he was one of my teachers when I was a child—regarding the cruel words he said to me so long ago. That I was a lost cause, I had no future, I was a delinquent.”
“And why don’t you?” Nora prodded.
“Would he remember me, after all these years? I’m not even sure if he’s still alive. I proved him wrong, anyway, and that’s all that matters. What’s next on the list? Your turn to read.”
“Wait.” Nora looked at him and took a deep breath. “There’s something else that, if I die tonight, I’d regret not saying. Something more... immediate.”
It sounded ominous, just like the storm, which was still gently weeping outside. “Yes?”
“Aiden, I will not sleep with you tonight.”
That caught him off-guard. “Nora, I never expected you—”
“No, wait. I will not sleep with you tonight, but not because I’m not attracted to you. Quite the opposite.” Nora looked right into his eyes with those hypnotizing irises of hers. She was brave to be so open about how she felt. Aiden was mesmerized by her gaze and her words, even if what she said wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear. “I need you to know that I enjoyed kissing you. A lot. But I don’t want you to be just a one-night stand. If we start... something else... right at this moment, I don’t know how I’ll be able to stop. And then that’ll be all we’d ever be. I want more than we can have or do tonight. And if we never see each other again, I’d rather have the memory of spending the night talking to you, answering this silly questionnaire, than sleep with you and never get to know you for real. I’m sorry for the honesty, and I’m even more sorry if you expected more from me, but if I died tonight, I’d want you to know this.”
Her explanation was torture as much as it was a relief. At least now he knew where he stood. He took her hand and planted a kiss on her knuckles, then kept it between his. “I hope you don’t die tonight, so we can spend more nights talking and answering questionnaires. And, when we feel it’s the right time, maybe doing other things, too. I appreciate your honesty very much. I fancy it when the stereotypical German in you shows herself.”
Nora laughed that beautiful laugh of hers, and he wanted more than ever to wrap her in his arms and pull her closer. But for now he would keep his distance, until—hopefully, some time—she let him.