CHAPTER 12 ARIA
ARIA
I have two hours between patients, so I’m sitting in the hospital cafeteria eating a sandwich.
Well, I’m pretending to eat a sandwich. Mostly, I’m looking at apartments, rereading the text from Penn, and hoping for just a glimpse of him.
Heck, even if he decided to have another lunch with Nurse Jenner, I wouldn’t mind. That’s how pathetic I am right now.
I just need to see him.
I close the apartment listings on my phone and open our text thread again.
You deserve happiness, Aria. I hope you find it.
I read it for probably the hundredth time, and it still makes no sense. What does that even mean? I was happy with him. At least, I was until I started feeling like he didn’t want to have kids with me anymore.
I set my phone down and stare at the sandwich in front of me.
It’s been a few days since I left, and the only thing I’ve accomplished is taking over Cathy’s couch and trying to figure out what the hell has happened to my marriage.
I don’t know why, but I thought for sure he was going to come for me.
I thought he would come home, find my note, and then tear across town to bring me home.
The fact that he didn’t do any of those things made me hurt even more.
It seems like he’s just completely let me go.
Heck, he’s encouraging me to go out and find happiness without him.
I pick up my phone again and open the apartment listings, even though the thought of signing a lease somewhere makes my stomach hurt.
I can’t imagine living without Penn, and if Penn and I are not together, can I even stay in Whiskey Run?
I know I would see him, and there’s no doubt my heart would break every time I did.
I close the app and press my fingers to my eyes. I can’t do this.
“Aria.”
My whole body freezes. I hold in a gasp and look up to find Penn standing a few feet away in his white coat. I don’t say anything, just stare at him. His hair is mussed, and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. His eyes are locked on me, and there’s no hiding the hurt on his face.
“Can I sit?” he asks.
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.
He drops into the chair across from me, but he doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at me, taking me in like he hasn’t seen me in months instead of a few days.
He tilts his head to the side. “You look tired,” he says softly.
I let out a humorless laugh. “You always did know how to compliment a woman.”
His mouth twitches, but the smile doesn’t last. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I nod. “I know.”
His gaze drops to my barely touched sandwich. “Are you eating?”
I lift my shoulders. “I’m trying.”
“Good.”
The single word is so Penn that it almost breaks me. He wants to check my pulse and make sure I’ve slept and I’m eating. Maybe that should annoy me, but it doesn’t. I miss being cared for and loved by him.
“How have you been?” he asks.
I lift one shoulder. “Fine.”
His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me you’re fine when you’re not.”
I look down at my hands. “You don’t get to ask for honesty from me when you won’t give it back.”
He sighs loudly. “I deserve that,” he says.
I don’t argue.
He leans forward, his forearms braced on the table. “Are you okay?”
I almost laugh again, but I’m afraid it will turn into something else. “Not really.”
His face tightens, and for a second, I think he’s going to reach for me, but he doesn’t. “Are you safe?”
My forehead creases. “At Cathy’s? She lives in Whiskey Run. It’s all safe.”
He nods. “And you’re okay?”
I pop a shoulder. “I mean, yeah. I’m sleeping on her couch and sharing it with her fifteen-pound Siamese, but I’m okay.”
His eyes widen. “You should go home. I’m not staying there, so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing me.”
My heart literally feels like it does a flip-flop in my chest. “Oh.”
I want to ask him where he’s been staying, but I’m not sure I can handle his answer. He must see it on my face because he’s quick to assure me, “I’ve been sleeping in my office here at the hospital. By myself,” he adds.
He closes his eyes tightly and then opens them. “I just don’t want you to think there’s someone else. There’s not, and there never will be.”
I open my mouth but quickly close it.
We sit here in silence, and everything between us feels too big for a hospital cafeteria. People are walking by, and there are trays clattering and people talking. But Penn gestures to my phone. The screen is black now, but obviously he saw it. “Are you looking at apartments?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
His face goes pale. “I haven’t signed anything,” I add quickly, and I hate that I feel the need to reassure him when he’s the one who pushed me to this place.
He nods, but he looks like I’ve gutted him.
“I was thinking about coming home,” I admit.
His eyes snap to mine, and I shake my head. “But then I read your text again,” I say.
His brows pull together. “My text?”
“‘You deserve happiness, Aria. I hope you find it.’”
He goes still.
I push my sandwich away because there’s no chance I can eat now. “That doesn’t sound like a husband asking his wife to come home, Penn.”
He drags a hand over his jaw. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
He doesn’t answer fast enough.
My chest aches, and I shake my head. “See? This is what I’m talking about.”
“I meant that I want you happy.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “And if that’s not with you?”
His eyes darken, and he looks almost dangerous. “Don’t.”
“You said it.”
“I know what I said.”
“Then what am I supposed to think?” I ask. “Because it feels like you’re trying to push me toward a life without you.”
His hands curl into fists on the table. “That is the last thing I want.”
I shake my head. “Is it? Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”
“Yes.”
I point at him. “Then why does everything you say sound like you’re letting me go?”
He swallows hard. “Because maybe I’m trying to do the right thing.”
I stare at him as if doing it hard enough will help me understand what he’s trying to say. “The right thing? What does that even mean?”
He gestures to me. “For you.”
Anger rises fast. “You don’t get to decide what’s right for me.”
He sighs. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” My voice shakes, but I keep going. “I had planned on coming home, Penn. I really did. But then I read that text, and all I could think was that maybe you want me to find someone else.”
His chair scrapes back, and for a second, I think he’s going to stand. He doesn’t. He just leans closer, his face hard and his eyes full of possession. “I don’t want you to find someone else.”
I open my mouth to argue with him, but he continues on, his voice sounding even more lethal. “I don’t want another man looking at you. I don’t want another man touching you. I don’t want another man making you laugh or holding your hand or knowing what you look like first thing in the morning.”
“Penn—”
“No.” His voice is low, but there’s no missing the edge in it. “If I saw you with someone else, I’d probably end up in jail.”
My eyes widen.
He lets out a rough breath and looks away for a second, like he’s trying to pull himself back together. “I’m not proud of that,” he says. “But it’s the truth.”
I stare at him, completely confused. “Then why are you acting like you want me gone?”