Chapter 24Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
The exam room was soothing yet professional with its clinical whites and blues. After washing my hands, I leaned against the counter and my gaze fell upon eighteen-year-old Kayla, whose eyes were heavy with the impending weight of unexpected motherhood. Beside her, a woman stood with a deeply lined brow and hands that couldn’t seem to find stillness—her mother, Gloria.
“Kayla, how are you feeling? You doing okay?” I asked, trying to navigate the tension that seemed to thicken the air between them.
Kayla’s eyes darted toward her mother before settling back on me. “I… I’m not sure yet,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “My head’s still spinning.”
“Gloria, maybe it’d be best if Kayla and I chat alone for a moment,” I suggested gently, fully aware of the controlling undertow in the older woman’s stance.
“Doctor Mitchell, we’ve already decided she’s going to give the… child away,” Gloria replied defensively, barely able to acknowledge the idea of her grandchild. Her arms were crossed as if to ward off an y challenge to her maternal authority. “I’ve already contacted two agencies.”
Kayla’s eyes dropped to the floor and my heart twisted.
“I understand this is difficult.” I locked eyes with Gloria in earnest. “But Kayla’s eighteen. She’s legally able to make her own decisions regarding her care and the baby she’s carrying. Plus, from what I’ve seen, she’s plenty smart enough too.”
The room fell silent, save for the distant hum of the air conditioner. Kayla fiddled with the hem of her shirt, a sign of her nervousness that I’d come to recognize over the past few appointments. Gloria’s posture softened slightly, and I seized the moment, pressing on with the delicacy the situation demanded.
“Kayla has options,” I continued. “And the best thing we can do for her is ensure she—” I narrowed my focus and Kayla met my gaze. “That you know all of them and feel supported no matter what you choose.”
It felt like navigating a minefield, each word carefully placed to avoid detonation. Gloria took a deep breath, finally nodding. “I just want her to be safe… and happy.” She sighed, the storm in her eyes giving way to a flicker of vulnerability.
“Then we’re all in agreement,” I said, flashing a smile. It was a small victory, but those were the ones that kept me anchored in this profession. The room exhaled, and so did I. “Maria has a list of resources for you to explore. Take some time to make this decision. Both you and the baby’s father, if he’s in the picture.” From the tight anger flashing across Gloria’s eyes and the hope in Kayla’s, I had a feeling he would be the next battleground. But today was a win I intended to savor.
As I left the exam room, I gave Maria a surreptitious thumbs-up. She gathered up the stack of brochures with a relieved smile and headed toward the young mother’s exam room. The situation with Kayla was one of our biggest worries at the clinic. But as I headed toward my next patient, I had a sense that things were finally going her way.
The sunset was a swathe of crimson on the horizon by the time I made my way to the marina. The air was thick with the scent of brine as I stepped into the cabin of my boat.
With careful strokes, I applied light gray paint to the galley kitchen cabinets. The color was muted and calm, like the Dove Key shore on a still morning. The boat was coming along, the deck now fully refinished, and the cabin interior was shaping up too.
My gaze drifted to the bed tucked into the bow, and an involuntary sigh escaped me. It had been three days since Stella and I had last tangled together in those sheets, three days of echoing silence from her end. I told her I’d take what she could give, but the truth was, I wanted more. Hell, I craved it like a ship lost at sea craves the sight of land.
“Stop thinking about her,” I muttered and focused on the brush in my hand. But my mind wouldn’t obey.
Stella had slipped through the cracks in my carefully constructed life more than I had anticipated. I knew I couldn’t rush her, couldn’t push for more than she was ready to offer. But that didn’t stop the yearning. Didn’t stop me from falling in love with her. Again.
I set the paintbrush down and surveyed my work, then turned my attention to the list of potential boat names scrawled on a piece of paper. The name had to be just right, something that captured the essence of my journey from the overcautious boy who almost let fear steal his dreams to the man who was trying to chart a new course.
“ Sea’s Embrace ? No… Odyssey’s End ?” I read aloud, trying each one. They felt foreign on my tongue, placeholders. “ Driftwood Heart ?” I paused, my lips curling into a half-smile. But no, these were all too serious. I wanted a touch of whimsy in the name.
The slap of flip-flops on the deck above announced Luke’s arrival. Grabbing a six-pack out of the fridge, I trotted up the stairs to join him .
“There you are,” he said, dropping into one of two canvas camping chairs I’d set up. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.”
“Try me.” I tore off a can and handed it to him. With the day’s fading heat, the chill of the aluminum was welcome against my skin.
“The bar was slammed, and this one lady…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he cracked open the brew. “Man, she was relentless. I felt like a goddamn piece of meat. Had to pry her off me like she was superglued.”
I laughed, popping open my own can. “You getting tired of the single life?”
“Hardly. I’m not against relationships, though I know better than to get near a harpy like that.” Luke took a long pull from the can. “So, Captain Ahab, found a name for your white whale yet?”
“Still searching,” I admitted, lifting my can for a drink. The beer was crisp, washing away the lingering taste of frustration.
“All right, let’s hear the shortlist.” Luke leaned forward, elbows propped on the armrests, his gaze expectant.
“ Odyssey’s End , Driftwood Heart ,” I rattled off the names I’d been considering earlier, only to be met with a grimace from Luke.
“Too poetic, too… sad,” he decided, waving a dismissive hand. “This is a new beginning, right? Needs something with punch.”
“Yeah, I know.” A smile tugged at the edge of my lips despite myself. “I want something catchy.”
“Okay, so what about… Phoenix Feather ?” Luke raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Good God, that sounds like a hipster tattoo parlor,” I shot back, unable to suppress a laugh.
“Fine, fine, hotshot. How about… Horizon Chaser ?” He leaned back, a proud grin lighting up his features.
“Better but still not quite right.” I shook my head, though I appreciated his efforts.
“Damn, you’re picky. I thought that one was pretty good.” Luke feigned being hurt, clutching his chest dramatically .
My eyes wandered over the boat’s gleaming deck. “Got to be. Naming a boat is a big deal, you know.”
Luke nodded solemnly before breaking into a wide grin. “Well, let’s keep brainstorming until we find the perfect fit or until we run out of beer. Whichever comes first.”
“Here’s hoping it’s the name,” I replied, raising my can in a mock toast.
“ Sea’s Whisper ?” Luke said with a half-hearted shrug as he opened another beer.
“Too… girly.” I scowled, staring at the canopy of stars beginning to wink into existence above.
“ Everlasting Tide ?” He slid a wooden crate over to rest his feet on.
“Sounds like laundry detergent,” I grumbled. My mind again drifted to the bed below us, and the memory of Stella and I in it three nights ago. The scent of her skin still haunted the threads, and I couldn’t bring myself to wash them.
“Hey, you just went miles away, man. What’s up?” Luke’s voice pulled me back to the dim light around us.
I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “Stella. It’s been three days, Luke. Three days without a word.”
He watched me, his expression softening. “You want more than she’s willing to give?” He took a swig, eyes thoughtful.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Wanting is one thing.” Luke’s words were slow and deliberate. “But pushing for it? That’s another. You might just push her away if you’re not careful.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Give her time,” he said gently. “Let things happen naturally. Like the perfect name for this boat—it’ll appear when it’s ready. And so will Stella.”
“Easy for you to say.” I tried to muster a smile. “You fend off admirers like you’re swatting flies at a barbecue.”
“True.” He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “ It’s hard work, fighting them off. But I’m not looking for what you are. Not everyone’s after the forever horizon.”
“ Forever Horizon ,” I repeated, mulling over the words.
“Hey, that’s not bad!” Luke’s eyes grew round, but I shook my head.
“Close, but still not it.” I was hesitant to dim his optimism. It was a constant, Luke’s ability to brighten a room—or in this case, a boat. I opened a second can and took a long swig.
“Okay, Mr. Picky, how about Siren’s Song ?” Luke grinned, waggling his eyebrows.
“That sounds like a romance novel.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Isn’t that your current situation, though?” he teased, and I shot him a mock glare.
“Very funny.” I cast my gaze around, looking for inspiration. I caught sight of an old photo tucked behind a toolbox, the edges worn—Dad teaching me to tie knots, a proud smile on his face. Before life became so complex.
“All right, your turn then. What names are swirling around in that head of yours?” Luke crossed one ankle over the other, watching me with the kind of patience only an old friend could muster.
“Nothing’s sticking.” I ran a hand through my hair, the salt from the sea air leaving it coarse. “Everything I think of just seems off.”
“Naming a boat is like capturing a piece of the ocean, Aiden. It’s vast, mysterious, all-encompassing.” His gaze drifted toward the dock where light from an exterior spotlight danced on the water’s surface.
“Thanks, that doesn’t put any pressure on at all,” I replied dryly.
“Hey, I’m just saying it’s got to feel right. Like”—Luke paused, searching for the words—“like coming home.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“Or you know, just name it Boaty McBoatface and call it a day.” Luke laughed, nudging me with his elbow. I joined his laughter, and we clinked our cans together.
As the evening wore on, the list of rejected names grew longer, our brainstorming devolving into absurdity as the beer flowed and the moon climbed higher. But beneath the jokes and jibes, there was an undercurrent of frustration—a longing to find that perfect fit that remained elusive.
“Guess it’s not happening tonight,” I said finally, tossing my empty can into the trash.
After adding his own, Luke said good night and hopped to the dock with a wave. I watched him fade into the night, unable to shake the feeling that the name for my boat matched the status of my relationship with Stella.
Completely unknown.
And that was frustrating as hell.