Chapter 13
Gloat
Aaron
Now that we were back in Sage Ridge, I struggled to hold onto the bubble of us we’d reclaimed at the cabin. Staying in the here and now would have been impossible if not for my wife.
Sitting across from her at The Beanery, I watched while she mauled a chocolate croissant.
“You enjoying that, baby?”
“Mm, love it,” she muttered, the corners of her mouth dotted with chocolate.
“Such a messy girl,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “I know. It’s pathetic.”
I laughed and soaked up her pleasure like a sponge. She’d had little enough of it lately.
We still had one whole weekend together, and I wouldn’t ruin it with thoughts of going back to work in 48 short hours.
Sitting on the edge of my seat, I waited for her to finish so we could go home. She’d finished her wish list for our next steps and was ready to share it with me.
Hopefully, her list might trigger my own because I wasn’t any further ahead. I had a list of what I didn’t want, but that hardly constituted a plan.
Taking advantage of the sunshine, we walked home the long way.
Once inside, Nadine kicked off her boots, handed me her coat, and made her way to the kitchen. “I don’t care what you say, I’m making hot chocolate.”
“Go ahead. Make me one, too. I can’t wait to hear your list.”
“You’re going to be disappointed.”
I hung up my coat and closed the closet. “Why’s that?” Swinging into the kitchen, I pulled up a chair and waited for her to sit down.
She sat down beside me with her ever-present day timer. “Because I don’t have that much.”
Opening it to the back, she spun it around to face me.
I scanned her list quickly then returned to the top to go over it more carefully before sitting back in my seat.
“I told you,” she said quietly, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.
“I’m not disappointed. How could I be? Everything on this list includes me.”
I paused because while that was good and sweet and affirming of her love for me, I needed her to want more. How else could I take what I needed without guilt when it would mean tearing apart everything she ever wanted.
“Every single thing on this list includes me.”
“I know,” she admitted quietly. “I’m having a really hard time imagining anything for me apart from you.” She shrugged. “I did it, Aaron. I went to Paris, I cooked in a top restaurant, and I’m glad I did it, but in the end, it wasn’t sustainable.”
I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off.
“And it’s still not sustainable for the same reasons as back then.
I don’t want us to be two ships passing in the night.
I devoted myself to that career, then I devoted myself to our kids, and I regret neither.
But I don’t want the same things I did back then.
I want to live life with you. Together.”
“Why did you take a job with Carlos?”
“Because I was bored.”
“And you won’t be bored with the garden center eventually?”
She turned her face away and took a deep breath. Her eyes skittered back and forth, thinking.
I waited patiently. I knew my wife. She needed time to process.
“I lost my dad, then my mom, while both of our children have, for the most part, moved out.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “And then I thought I lost you,” she hiccupped, grief strangling her voice.
“Baby,” I whispered.
She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. It’s mostly hormones making me emotional.
All I’m saying is that I can’t think of what I want to do for myself when my foundation is shaking.
” She shook her head sharply. “I’m not saying you’re my foundation, but our marriage, our family, this whole life we built, is.
If that’s falling apart, it’s a little hard to think of anything else. ”
“I promise we’re not falling apart.”
Her watery eyes met mine. “The thing is, Aaron, no matter how many years we have together, it’s never going to be enough for me.
And I don’t want to waste time chasing after a dream that will take more of me than I’m willing to give.
Do you know what I mean? I want you. I want us.
A lot more of us. Then, whatever is left, I’ll give to a new dream. ”
The walls began to close in on me.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m averse to change. If you want something else, something more, or something different, I support that. I want you to be happy.”
I dropped my chin.
Because my wife knew me as well as I knew her.
“I feel terrible.”
She leaned toward me. “Why?”
“I feel like I’m not holding up my end of the bargain.”
Her eyes narrowed as her brow furrowed. “What bargain?”
I glanced up at the ceiling then looked away. “The house, the bills, the cars, the kids’ educations…”
“You are not solely responsible for all those things, Aaron. I can work. I want to work! I just don’t want to throw myself into something just for the sake of it when what I really want is,” she stabbed her list with her index finger, “to travel with you, to have weekly date nights, to get involved with the community, take a road trip—”
“Renovate the house…” I added.
Her gaze flicked down to her list. She blinked. “I wrote that, I did, and I think, if I had a full-time job we could swing it, but I can easily scratch that off the list and happily move into something smaller.”
It was a start, but I wanted more for her.
I leaned forward and grabbed her hands. “We’re solid.
I promise. Let’s say we move to a smaller house, and I take on a new challenge.
I’m working full-time, but it’s regular full-time, not sixty hours a week full-time.
We travel. We go out. Restaurants, movies, weekends away.
We do everything on your list. What are you going to do with your time when I’m at work? ”
She listened to my whole spiel; eyes wide.
Finally, she nodded. “I see what you mean.”
I relaxed back in my chair. “Okay.”
She pressed her lips together, her gaze flitted around the room, then she shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “It’s kind of exciting.”
I laughed in relief. “See!”
Her brow furrowed. “Can we do it? Can we make those changes and still help our kids?”
I nodded. “We can.”
Line by line, I gave her a detailed breakdown of where we stood financially.
“Things are much better than I expected,” she murmured.
My gut clenched. “How do you really feel about selling the house?”
She shrugged and began slowly. “I’ll miss it, but it’s too big for us now. As long as our new place is big enough to give the kids a place to crash when they need to, I’m good with it.”
The storm clouds that had shadowed me for months lifted. “Really?”
She nodded firmly. “Really.”
“Well, all right then,” I murmured, dazed.
She grinned. “Not nearly as complicated as you thought it would be?”
I rubbed the back of my neck and tried not to smile. “I may or may not have been my own biggest obstacle.”
Laughing, she stood and bumped her forehead lightly against mine. “I’ll try not to gloat.”