He regards me with quiet consideration, his brow furrowed slightly as if weighing the words before offering them. “No, she didn’t. I thought she might—I expected it to bother me—but I was so damn excited about seeing you that she barely registered.” A faint smile ghosts across his lips. “It’s happened with my father too…with Tristan. The things they usually say, the way they needle me—it just doesn’t stick the same when I know I’m walking toward you.”
He tells me how Tristan came to his office, and how Aiden truly didn’t care one way or the other about being CEO.
“I don’t want you to give up things because of me,” I protest.
His lips curve as a warmth enters his gaze. “I’m not giving anything up, baby.” He cups my cheek. “I’m becoming the man I should’ve been all along. For you. For me. This isn’t about losing—this is about finally holding myself together in the right shape…because I can’t stand being the version of me that hurt you.”
He leans closer and brushes his lips against mine. I close my eyes and feel the familiarity and the rush that comes with kissing my husband. It’s soft. No tongue. Just comfort andlove.
He kisses my nose before letting me go, and then picks up his cider. “I don’t need their approval anymore. I don’t respect them. Though, I need yours, Mia, becauseI respect and love you. What you think matters a great deal to me.”
I stare out over the fields. “I always thought that if you ever cheated on me, I’d walk away and never look back.” I turn to face him. “I didn’t know then that love doesn’t just disappear.”
“No,” he agrees, his eyes gentle.
“I know you want us to be back together…but…why?”
“’Because I love you’ is the easy answer,” he replies without hesitation. “But you love me too, and you don’t think we should be back together…so that’s not enough reason.”
I lean back against a pillar of the pergola and watch as he pulls his thoughts together. I always love speaking with Aiden because he takes his time, thinks things through, and doesn’t just blabber.
“You ground me, Mia. You soften the sharp, ugly parts of the world. When everything feels like pressure, you’re the exhale. When I feel like I’m failing, you remind me I’m not. You believe in me when I can’t.”
I struggle to breathe. His words are a balm on the many wounds he inflicted, which Ilet himinflict out of fear of losing him.
He goes on, quieter now, “But it’s not just about what you do for me. It’s what I get to do for you. I get to see you bloom. I love watching you stand taller, speak louder, take up space. I love being the one who reminds you you’re brilliant and brave and beautiful. I love giving you a home—not just a place, but a feeling. And if I canbe that for you again…if you’ll let me—I swear, I’ll never take a single second of it for granted.”
He leans closer, his voice even softer. “I want us back because being with you isn’t about possession. It’s about devotion.”
The tears come before I can stop them. Not hot or angry this time, just…a surrender.
“No, baby.” He wipes the moisture off my cheeks. “Don’t cry.”
I sniffle. “I don’t know what to do,” I say with a desperation that’s tearing me apart.
He kisses my forehead and then my wet cheeks. “I want to be the man who deserves to sit across from you like this. Who listens, and takes you on honey tastings. Who fights for you, not against you.”
“Aiden, some days I still feel broken.”
“I know. Me, too.” He strokes my cheek with a thumb. “I’m in limbo without you. I’m…broken without you.”
It’s right here, he’s right there for me to take. I just have to give in. Say, yes, let’s go home. But what if we go home and it’s the same as it used to be?
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
I look into his eyes—blue, steady, the same ones that once felt like home and betrayal and everything in between—and ask, “What if we’re just not meant to work?”
“Then I’ll still be grateful that I got to love you. But Ihave to try. Because I think we could be more than just broken—we could be healed.”
The wind rustles the wildflowers.
“You say that I have changed.” He smiles at me, his eyes clear, without doubt. “You have changed, too, Mia. You’re stronger and you’re not afraid of losing me. You won’t let me walk all over you, not that I ever would—but you won’t. We’re better people. We won’t repeat the mistakes of the past.”
The bees drift lazily through the afternoon sun. I squeeze his hand.
“You know,” I say, my voice catching, “I’ve been to a honey farm before. With Katya. She bought honey she didn’t even like because the guy behind the counter was cute.”
