Sixteen
Kaiden
I’m usually a pretty calm and patient guy.
You have to be in this business. Jumping the gun is what gets you killed or compromised.
But, seriously, the lack of communication from Aspen after our meeting a week ago is making me twitch.
But then I guess nothing has ever been as important as this before.
I feel like my future is at stake.
As much as I want to respect her silence and give her time to get used to me being back in the picture, I don’t want to let her stew for too long, in case she talks herself out of seeing me again.
This is not a case of absence makes the heart grow fonder. It’s more out of sight, out of mind, which is why I’ve taken things into my own hands. The nice thing about being a capo is I now have the opportunity to delegate, and I don’t have anyone to report to or someone watching my every move.
And taking advantage of all that, is how I find myself at Aspen’s home at 4.30 pm this afternoon.
My wife has done well for herself, living in a quiet, leafy area of Berkeley Avenue close to Branch Brook Park.
It’s the kind of place I always imagined her in when we used to dream big.
It’s on a double-size lot with a low, single-story structure to the side, which I’d hazard a guess is her art studio.
The house is a white clapboard colonial style, with blue-grey shutters and a wrap-around veranda.
Not exactly my thing, but completely Aspen.
My heart wrenches a little to know she did this all on her own.
Not because I begrudge her good fortune, but because I always thought I’d be the one providing for her.
Making all her dreams come true, while she looked after our kids.
Yeah, yeah, stereotypical, I know. Don’t shoot me.
It’s just an in-built guy thing, wanting to provide for your family.
Still, I’m glad she’s got this. Thrilled to know her awesome talent has been recognized and allowed her to thrive.
But yeah, it grates that I’m the loser in this scenario - in more ways than one.
I take the front steps two at a time and rap on the door before I second-guess myself. I hear movement inside, then the sound of a lock turning. The door opens, and Aspen peers out at me, her green eyes widening in surprise before she steps out and pulls the door behind her, so it’s almost shut.
“Kaiden? What are you doing here?” she asks, tossing a look back over her shoulder. Does she have another man in there? Is that why she hasn’t responded to me?
“Can I come in?” I ask, keeping my voice low and non-threatening. “We need to talk.”
She glances back at the house, her expression so apprehensive, I almost want to push past her and see who’s inside… but I know that won’t help my cause.
“I... I don’t think that’s a good idea. My mother’s here.”
I frown. “Helene?” I know her mother didn’t approve of us marrying so young, but she never stood in our way.
I see her around the compound now and again since she still visits Therese, and while she’s not exactly stopping to pass the time of day, she always acknowledges my presence and is perfectly pleasant.
But I guess it’s not too much of a stretch to think she might be pissed at the way I abandoned her daughter at the hospital…
although, since she was still ‘visiting’ Sal back then, I’d have thought she’d have understood why I did it.
While neither Sal nor Therese would have said anything, I’m certain Rosa would have informed Helene about what went down.
Bless that woman; Rosa is still like a grandmother to me, even though her role at the compound is purely managerial as she approaches retirement.
“Yeah. Umm… I haven’t said anything to her about you, and I’d rather she didn’t find out this way.”
I can’t help wonder what there is to say. It’s not like there is any ‘us’, after all. Unless you count the fact that we’re technically still married.
Aspen slips out onto the porch, pulling the door fully closed behind her and firing off a rapid text. She’s not wearing anything special. Yoga pants and an oversized sweater with paint marks on it, that slips off one shoulder. No makeup. Hair in a messy bun… She looks fucking beautiful.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggests, nodding toward the park at the end of the street, and I get the feeling she’s trying to get me away from here. Not that I’m planning to make a scene, because if it means she’ll give me the time of day, I’ll do whatever she wants.
Falling into step beside her, I’m hyperaware of the few inches of space between us.
Close enough that I can smell her shampoo - the same lavender and jasmine scent that haunts my memories, and which I’ve spent ten years trying to suppress.
Far enough that we’re not touching, which feels like a chasm.
The late afternoon sun filters through the trees lining the street, casting dappled shadows across the sidewalk.
It’s a beautiful day, the kind of perfect autumn afternoon that makes everything feel crisp and full of possibility.
Or maybe that’s just because I’m walking next to Aspen for the first time in a decade.
“Nice neighborhood,” I say, because apparently small talk is all either of us seem capable of right now.
“It suits me.” Her voice is guarded, and she’s walking with her arms crossed over her chest. Defensive. “I bought it three years ago.”
“The studio looks great. Just like you always used to describe it.”
She glances at me, surprise flickering across her face. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you. They were my dreams too, Aspen. You have no idea how much it stings to know you’ve achieved it all without me.” The words come out before I can stop them, and I see her shoulders tense. Shit, I let my words run away with me.
Her lips tighten, and she refuses to look my way. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I had a choice, Kaiden, is it?”
Fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut.
We lapse into silence as we reach the entrance to Branch Brook Park, and she leads us down a path that winds toward a quiet stretch near the cherry trees.
She shakes her head. “Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“Sorry, that didn’t come out right,” I interject as panic sets in. “I didn’t come to fight. That’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
She raises one delicate eyebrow. “Seriously? But that’s what you decided to lead with?”
I huff out a breath. “What I said wasn’t meant as a criticism. I just meant I’m sad I wasn’t here to share your success. To stand by your side while you achieved your goals. To support you.”
I stop and look at her, hoping she can see how earnest I am. “I’m proud of you, Aspen. So goddamn proud. But I wanted to bask in your glory. Not watch it from afar.” I tell her quietly.
She stares at me for a long time, like she’s thinking over her response.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I probably wouldn’t have gotten where I have if you hadn’t left.
What happened made me more determined to succeed.
To prove to the world and its dog that I wasn’t the pathetic girl who got left behind. ”
It’s a backhanded compliment that slashes like a blade, and I close my eyes against the pain. “Can we start again?” I ask, clenching my jaw.
Just like at the cafe last week, rapier words and emotions form a guarded defense that stops us from making progress.
Aspen lets out a breath, her posture softening fractionally. “Okay.”
It’s just one word, but it feels like a lifeline.
We start walking again, slower this time, and I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her like I want to.
“I came because you haven’t responded to any of my messages,” I say, hesitantly.
“I know.” She carries on walking and avoids looking at me. “I’ve been... processing.”
“Processing.” I can’t keep the edge out of my voice. “It’s been a week, Aspen.”
“And you’ve been gone for ten years.” She stops walking again and turns to face me, her green eyes flashing. “So forgive me if I need more than a few days to figure out how I feel about you showing up at a café and declaring you still love me.”
Fair point. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Again. I just...” I blow out a breath, frustrated with myself and my seeming inability to say the right thing. “I’m not good at this. At waiting. At not knowing where I stand.”
“Join the club.” Her laugh is bitter. “You think I had any idea where I stood when you left?”
“That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair, Kaiden.” She starts walking again, faster this time, and I have to lengthen my stride to keep up.
“You want honesty? Here’s some honesty. I don’t know what you want from me. You say you still love me, that you never stopped, but what does that even mean? What are you expecting to happen here? Because what’s done is done and we can’t just erase the past.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, which seems to surprise her because she slows down. “I just know I have to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least... if we didn’t at least talk. See if there was anything left worth salvaging.”
“And if there’s not?” Her voice is quieter now, and I hear the vulnerability underneath. “What if too much time has passed? Too much heartache has been caused. What if we’re just... different people now?”
“Then at least we’ll know.” I stop walking, and she does too, turning to face me. “But Aspen, I don’t believe that. I can still read you.” To an extent, anyway. “I know you feel something too.”
Her jaw tightens. “Feeling something doesn’t mean acting on it is wise.”
“When has anything between us ever been wise?” I ask, and despite everything, I see the corner of her mouth twitch.
“We got married at eighteen. Moved into a basement apartment we couldn’t even afford to heat. We ate ramen four nights a week to save money. And date nights meant one fancy coffee at Santino’s… but we had something worth more than wealth. We were happy.”
She nods her agreement. “We were,” she says softly, and something in my chest cracks open at the past tense.
I take a step closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of amber in her eyes. “I know we can’t go back to that. I’m not asking to. But maybe... maybe we could find something new. Something better, even.”
She looks away, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip in that way that tells me she’s thinking hard. I wait, forcing myself to stay quiet, to give her the space she needs.
“There’s so much you don’t know about my life now,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “So much I don’t know about yours.”
“Then tell me.” I keep my voice gentle, not pushy. “I want to know everything. What you’ve been doing, what makes you happy now, what keeps you up at night. All of it. Tell me your truths, and I’ll tell you mine.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You say that like it’s simple.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
“Everything with you is complicated, Kaiden.” She says before biting off the words as if they’ve left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Hey. What is it?” I ask, tipping her face to mine. She shakes her head, avoiding my eyes and an ominous feeling shivers down my spine, and I can’t help but feel that I’m missing something.