I don’t know why, but I can’t take this right now. Can’t let it settle in me. If I do that, I might believe he means it.
I try to lighten my tone. “If poison is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, then you’ve been through some bad shit?—”
“Stop.” He cups my face in his hands. “You’re not joking your way into handling this on your own. I know you’ve handled everything else on your own, Harper. A marriage you never wanted. A divorce that felt like a lifeline. Starting a business. You’ve done all the big stuff on your own, so it won’t be easy foryou to let me in. But I’m in anyway. Don’t push me out when you need me the most.”
Aiden’s words hang between us, heavy and unyielding, and I don’t know where to put them. I want to deflect. I want to make another joke or change the subject or retreat into logistics, anything that keeps me from having to sit inside the vulnerability he handed me.
But there’s nowhere to hide in this moment. The police are still here. My life is still on fire. And Aiden is standing in front of me, refusing to let me shrink myself down into something easier to manage. Refusing to let me glance away from the truth of him.
Tears blur my vision. “I don’t know how to do this without hurting you. Every time I think I’ve made the right choice, something blows up. Literally.”
Aiden exhales slowly, like he’s been waiting for me to say that. He wraps me in his arms, comfort in human form. “Let me be here for you. With you. Let me stay this time. We will handle the explosions together.”
Before I can respond, a small voice cuts through the tension. “Mommy?”
I turn toward the sound immediately. Mason stands at the edge of the living room, clutching his dinosaur to his chest, eyes wide and anxious. He’s peering past us toward the windows. “Is the bad man going to hurt us?”
I crouch down in front of him, forcing my voice to stay steady even as my heart clenches painfully. “No, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
Aiden kneels beside me. “There are a lot of people making sure he can’t hurt us. And I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you or your mom.”
Mason studies his face carefully, as if weighing the truth of it. Then he nods, slow and serious, and steps forward to wrap his arms around Aiden’s neck in a tight hug. “Okay.”
I press my lips together to keep from breaking apart entirely.
Aiden returns the hug gently, one hand resting between Mason’s shoulders. When Mason finally pulls back, he looks calmer, reassured in the simple way children can be when they feel protected. “Can I watch cartoons?”
“Yes,” I say immediately. “Pick something loud.”
He pads off toward the couch and settling in with his dinosaur, the world already shrinking back down to a manageable size. The cartoon his picks is indeed loud.
Aiden and I remain where we are, kneeling side by side on the living room floor, the weight of everything still pressing in but less suffocating now that Mason has found his footing again. I look at Aiden, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you away. I’m just… afraid of what happens if I don’t.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We both thought we were poison. We were both wrong.”
I wipe a tear and sniffle, trying not to burst into tears completely in front of Mason. He’s settled into the couch with the dinosaur tucked under his arm, eyes flicking to the windows every so often before the cartoon’s colors pull him back in. I stand and pace the length of the living space, careful to keep my movements contained, aware that Mason is watching even when he pretends not to be.
The urge to do something—anything—presses hard against my ribs. I want to clean. Organize. Make a list and start checking boxes because lists make chaos feel like they have an end date.
Aiden watches me for a moment, then gently intercepts my orbit. He doesn’t grab my arm or block my path. He simply steps into it and offers his hand, palm up, like an invitation instead of a command. “Sit,” he says quietly. “Just for a minute.”
I hesitate, then take it. We sit at the island where the detective had been earlier, the recorder gone now, but the echo of questions still hanging in the air. I rest my elbows on thecounter and drop my face into my hands, dragging a breath down into my lungs until it hurts.
“I know I’m not responsible for what Marcus chose to do. I know that… logically. He’s a grown man. He’s responsible for his own actions.” I breathe and breathe and breathe again. It doesn’t clear the fog. “But in my heart… my loud, annoying heart says I should be in control of everything around me. That when I’m in control, then I’m safe. So, I try to control it all, even other people’s actions, so I can stay safe.”
Aiden leans forward, forearms on the counter, shoulders squared like he’s bracing against a wave. “Your heart is lying to you. It tells you there was a clean path you missed. There wasn’t. Your heart is imagining a perfect world with you in charge, so you can feel safe. And don’t get me wrong—I’d love it if you controlled everything.”
I don’t know how he can make me laugh at a time like this, but he does. “Oh, really?”
“I’m of the opinion that you’d be a perfect world ruler. But I’m also glad that you’re not, because you’d be too busy for date nights and cuddly sex and ice cream.”
I lace my fingers with his. “So, then it’s a good thing I’m not in charge, huh?”
He nods once, the corner of his mouth lifting. “A very good thing.”
Inside the living room, Mason eventually falls asleep on the couch, cartoon noises fading into soft, uneven breaths. I carry him to the guest bed and tuck him in carefully, smoothing his hair back and lingering longer than necessary, my palm resting on his back until the rise and fall of his breathing steadies my own.
Aiden waits in the living room, giving me space without leaving. When I come back out, he looks up, concern softening into relief when he sees me standing instead of unraveling.
