I put my phone inside my pocket and look up to see Aiden’s eyes on me. There’s something new there. He tilts his head and smiles at me. Like he used to, like he’s silently saying, “I love you.”
But youdon’tlove me, Aiden. If you did, you wouldn’t have kissed that bitch.
CHAPTER 8
Aiden
“Mia, baby, talk to me,” I insist on the back porch where she’s standing in the cold, hugging her coat around her.
She looks small in that oversized wool coat, almost like a little girl playing dress-up.
My wife isn’t skinny, just compact. She has tight curves, a waist made for my hands, the kind of body that leans soft. In heels, she comes up to my shoulder. At six-two, I’ve got a good eight inches on her. She doesn’t usually wear heels, and without them, she’s the kind of woman who makes you want to lean down and listen when she whispers.
She looks at me with her slate gray eyes, which I’ve always found sexy, against her warm skin and dark hair. There’s something stormy about them, unreadable when she wants them to be, and devastating when she doesn’t. Her hair’s falling loose around her face, dark brown withjust a hint of a wave, like it’s always caught the tail end of a breeze.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asks, leaning against the railing, her arms crossed.
I step closer. I lean down to kiss her lips, but she moves her head, and I get her cheek. My heart pounds. We’re notthatcouple. We’re not the ones who don’t touch, don’t make love, don’t….
Suddenly, the truth crashes around me.
Weusedto not bethatcouple, but we arenow—we became that slowly and steadily since I took over Winter Financial. Or was it when Diana came back to Vermont?
No. No way. I’m not interested in Diana, not in that way.
But the lie I tell myself is flimsy. I may not be sexually attracted to Diana, but I do enjoy spending time with her—both at work and out of it. She understands the pressures I’m under and the stakes of what we do. I’ve come to rely on her, maybe too much, to help me succeed.
Mia is my life, though. I can’t imagine not having her at home to come back to.
Been traveling a lot lately, haven’t you, Aiden? Working late with Diana. Taking meetings that could’ve been calls. You haven’t exactly been rushing home to your wife, have you?
“You are not you,” I blurt out.
She raises both eyebrows.
“I mean…you’re behaving strangely.”
She frowns as if thinking hard about what I am saying. “Am I? How?”
I exhale, feeling frustration rise through me. I’m not used to the distance she’s put between us.
“You’re snapping at everyone.”
“Am I?”
There’s a subtle challenge in her voice, and it irritates me. “Look, I’m sorry I called you a bitch.”
She laughs. It’s not harsh. It’s not self-deprecatory as one would expect. No, it’s a full-on ‘this is so hilarious’ chortle.
She pats my shoulder. “Oh, Aiden, I never take offense when someone tells the truth.”
I swallow. I want to tell her about the kiss. I want to tell her about the changes I intend to make and have already been making. I’m going to stand by her. I’m going to defend her against my family more. I’m going to stay the fuck away from Diana, if it has nothing to do with work. I won’t let anything mess up our marriage. I’m going to come home to my wife. I’m going to take care of her like she’s been taking care of me all these years.
She looks at me as if she’s waiting for me to tell her my truth, reveal the rot inside me, the horrible thing that I did.
“You’re not a bitch,” I say softly and cup her soft cheek.
The door to the porch opens.
