“And you just kept going.”
I shrug. “I told myself it was practicality. Working all the odd jobs created the savings that got me to Storywood Ridge, out of my parents' house. But it also filled the spaces that hurt. ‘You’re such an amazing Mom!’ or ‘You built this business, and you’re a single Mom?’ feels better than sad faces and ‘You’re doing it all by yourself?’ You know?”
At that, he reaches out and threads his fingers through mine.
“I know all about the sad faces and those comments,” he murmurs.
“I know you do. So maybe you can see why I worked so hard to avoid them. If I sat still, I had tofeelit. If I kept moving, I could cover it up. I mattered.”
“Chlo, you can’t know how much it hurts me to hear you say that about yourself.”
“It’s all tangled up in here,” I say, tapping my temple with my free hand. Then I gesture to my heart. “I guess here, too. I wish it were clear-cut, but one hurt doesn’t negate the other. In my case, I think they sort of bonded. Or snowballed? Think of it like Olaf with Elsa’s spell that keeps him free from melting. That’s how it feels.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m not trying to laugh, but you two really do love your Frozen references.”
“Frozen got me through some of the worst days of my life,” I shrug. “If you ever need a laugh-out-loud moment when things feel like they’re imploding, just imagine the moment where he says, ‘Oh no, I’ve been impaled.’ I promise it makes it a lot harder to feel that way.”
“I wish I could take this from you. That I could erase the moments that made you feel like you’re dispensable, Chloe. Or at least the ones I contributed to.” He swallows. “I couldn’t have put my life back together without you.”
That suddenly feels heavier than everything else I’ve been carrying, but not in a way that feels like I’m drowning. It’s better, but I don’t know what to do with it.
“No. You could’ve done that on your own.” I shake my head.
“You’re infuriating sometimes,” he whispers, scooting closer. “I’m telling youexactlyhow much you matter in my life, and I can literally see you shrinking.”
“I don’t know what to do with it,” I whisper. “That’s huge, Aiden.”
“But it’s true. You need to hear from people how important you are, even when you’re not trying, Chloe. Just by being you. It’s not about how well you run a business or how efficient you are. Or how you can rule the world from a spreadsheet.” He smiles. “It’s yourheart. I practically had a wall built up that Owen and Evie couldn’t even scale, but you could.You did. And you stepped right in the middle of the mess with me.”
There’s so much emotion in my chest it’s almost suffocating. But it feels so good—it’s the kind of pain that I can manage.
“Because you needed me,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Try again.”
“But… you needed me.” I frown. “You were grieving; the farm was going to be sold.”
“I want to be the most crystal clear I’ve ever been with you. Dad’s stipulation only said I had to get married,” he says gently. “You only became part of that equation when I chose to invite you into it.”
Oh.
I absorb his words and sit with them. They’re not cruel. But they are uncomfortable. I think because he’s right.
“I could’ve handled the studio and the apartment without you. I don’t know how, but I would’ve figured something out.”
“I have no doubt about that,” he says. “You’re the most resourceful, creative woman I’ve ever known.”
“But I chose to let you help me.” I blink. And suddenly everything feels clearer, like when a cloudy day shifts into sunshine. “I chose to let you in the door, to move into your house. I chose to marry you.”
Tears sting my eyes.
Aiden reaches over, brushing them away with the pad of his thumb. “Now you’re getting it.”
“And you chose to ask me.”
“I’d choose you all over again, Chloe. And it has nothing to do with how much you helped—in every aspect of my life. Those were all the benefits of this relationship. That’s youloving me. Do you remember when I told you that your productivity had no value in my home?”
I nod, because I don’t think I can do much else at the moment.
