28. He Saw Her Compassion #2
Lola’s face brightened. “We hung out a few times.”
“Did she talk much about her life on the mainland?”
“Ruth spent all her time talking about your life on the mainland. I’ve been subjected to her never-ending sales pitch.
Let’s see…” Lola started ticking my achievements off on her fingers.
“School captain. Football captain. Model citizen. Oh my, and how handsome you looked in your tux for the high school formal.”
I groaned. “She didn’t .”
“Oh, yeah, big guy.” Lola grinned. “Ruth got out all her photo albums. She even showed me newspaper clippings of your heroic deeds.”
I sank lower on the lounge. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Lola shook her head, but her smile faded, her expression becoming serious. “Ruth told me you were a police officer. All the photos and articles… You seemed born for it…”
“I was. There were four generations of McKinnon police before me. My father was so damn proud when I was promoted to sergeant.” That was about the last time he was proud of me, too. “Ruth was a cop.”
“She flipped through those pages so quickly, but I saw a couple of photos.” Lola forced a tight smile. “I didn’t ask any questions. She seemed—I don’t know—not herself.”
Those words were a punch in the gut. “Life was good until it wasn’t. Does she still have any pictures of Matthew?”
“I’m…not sure… I don’t think so. Who’s that?”
“Ruth’s ex-husband. He left…after…” My fist clenched by my side.
“After the accident?”
“ Because of the accident. After the first couple of visits, he stopped coming to the hospital. That weak bastard said he couldn’t deal with it. Ruth was so damn brave. She got through all the surgeries and all the rehab on her own.”
“You were there, though.”
I jerked my chin down in a nod. “Every day. I would’ve been there anyway, but it was the least I could do…after…after what I did.”
A shudder raced through me. My gaze retreated to the valley and landed on the magpies nesting in the twisted arms of the eucalyptus trees, a jury of a hundred accusing eyes. My pulse surged.
No way. I was out of here. I was done.
But I barely got my backside off the lounge before Lola stopped me. Her fingers wrapped around my hand, and she held tight.
“Stay,” she whispered. “You’re brave, too.”
Brave? Me?
The only thing firing courage in my veins was Lola. Her hand clutched mine, and her head fell against my shoulder. She was still there. Without her, I was shit scared to relive this moment.
“You were with her when it happened?” Lola asked.
I nodded. “Ruth and I were on duty together when dispatch called through some teenagers who’d stolen a car.
” My voice wavered and scratched like an old record wobbling around a worn-out turntable.
“They were joyriding on the country highway and making a damn nuisance of themselves. A couple of drivers had reported near misses.”
I scrubbed a flannel cuff over my eyes. It didn’t help. The hot sting of tears still burned.
Fuck.
I struggled in a jagged breath. Nope. Didn’t help. I bent over, the heels of my palms pressed roughly into my eyes.
Lola’s hand touched softly on my back. “Aiden?”
I screwed my eyes shut. All my careful control was unravelling, and the more Lola soothed her fingers in a circle on my back, the quicker the threads untied.
“Visibility was shit. It was night. It was pouring. All fucking excuses. I should’ve known better. When I pulled onto the highway, it all happened so fast. Headlights headed for us in the wrong lane. A truck. I made a split-second decision. The only thing I could see was”—I swallowed—“was—”
“Oh, Aiden. This is too much for you. We can stop now.”
No. I couldn’t stop now. The truth wanted to flood out, and nothing was going to stop it. Not me trying to block it out. Not Lola jolting up from the lounge, her arms hugging around my shoulders and burying my face against the warm, protective curve of her belly. Nothing.
“I swerved right. A car pulled out from behind the truck. Those stupid damn teenagers. The truck had switched to the other lane, thinking they’d go past. I didn’t see them until it was too late.
” I wrapped my arms around Lola, dragging her warmth as close to me as I could, burying my face deeper into her stomach as the first strangled sob escaped me. “If I hadn’t gone right…”
My weight collapsed into her, the soft cotton of her white T-shirt growing damp beneath my cheek. How long did I cry? I never cried. My ribs ached, burning from the pain of those memories and the sobs that escaped me in tortured gasps after being trapped deep inside me for so many years.
“Aiden,” Lola whispered as she stroked her fingers through my hair. “What happened was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”
She was wrong.
I lifted my chin. “It was my fault. If I’d turned left…”
Lola cupped my face in her hands. “A different tragedy would have happened.”
“But Ruth would’ve been spared. So would those kids not wearing their bloody seatbelts. I would’ve taken the hit, and everyone else would’ve walked away without a scratch.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, Lola. I do .”
“If they did an investigation—”
“I don’t care if that exonerated me of any fault. Look at Ruth, Lola. Look at her! You can’t say I’m not to blame when my best friend was…was… God, Lola. Those kids .”
“Aiden, you need to be kinder to yourself. Fairer to yourself.” She brushed the hair off my forehead, and her lips curved in a tender smile that any other day would’ve made my heart flip upside down.
“I know you don’t trust doctors, but you need to talk to someone about what happened.
” Her lips were even more tender when they pressed down on the top of my head.
I swiped at my face with the sleeve of my flannel.
Not because the warnings of my father still echoed in my mind, but because Lola didn’t think I was weak.
Somehow, that made me feel stronger. She didn’t judge me for falling apart sometimes, and she knew how it felt to be stuck in old memories on repeat.
“I used to see a shrink years ago,” I said.
“I stopped going. I didn’t think I needed it anymore.
” Truthfully, I hated reliving what I’d done.
“I’ve been thinking about going back lately.
Maybe it’ll help with the flashbacks…the panic attacks…
But, Lola, talking won’t change what happened that night. ”
“No, it won’t, but it will help you deal with the nights still to come. Please, don’t keep wading through the mud of these thoughts on your own.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not a psychiatrist, but I’m here to talk any time you want. Thank you for trusting me enough to share that, Aiden. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“No, but…”
How could I explain that the iron grip around my chest had started to give? That somehow, just saying the words out loud, it felt safe to breathe again?
I think she knew. Somehow, Lola always did. Her gentle smile reappeared. “Here’s what we’re going to do next. You listening?”
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m going to sit on your lap and hug the absolute hell out of you because I think you need that more than anything.
And when you’ve had your fill of cuddles, we’re going to eat the amazing chicken pot pie you have in the oven, sip our wine, and talk.
Books. The past. Anything you want—except Soccer Mum Socialites . ”
I chuckled. “And then?”
“We try the cheesecake, and well before the sun sets, you can drive me home.”
“I love the sound of this day.”
Especially the hugging part, but I kept that to myself.