I feel it in my heart.
“Not tonight.” I shake my head.
“Chloe, we’ll have to talk about it eventually,” he murmurs.
I push off the counter and pace, taking space from the big, hulking man at my sink. So many words want to tumble out, and he’s right, we probably do need to talk about this. But we also need to do it quietly.
“You can’t compare what’s happening here to what happened then. I overcommitted for Phoebe’s sake?—”
“And I did what I did for my family.”
My breaths go shallow.
“It’s not the same. I’m not choosing Phoebe over anyone else. You choseyour familyoverme.”
The moment it’s out, I regret it. This is a decade-old wound, doused in rubbing alcohol. And with everything else happening, I might as well have struck a match and dropped in.
He crosses the room and cradles my face like there isn’t a chasm between us.
“Chloe, you brought me…” Emotion swims in his eyes and clogs his voice. There’s a push and pull here, one I know all too well—wanting to spill every truth but being afraid of the cost. “I can’t fix the past. But I’m here now. What can I do?”
“Aiden, this isn’t your problem to fix.” Tears slip hot down my cheeks.
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but hormones and exhaustion and his genuine concern are making that impossible to hold to.
He winces and lets his hands fall, taking a couple of steps backward. I absolutely hate the absence of his touch. The distance is a blessing and a curse.
“You’re right, it’s not my problem.”
“I’m not a charity case you can fix to make yourself feel better.” My lips wobble, and I close my eyes, irritated at myself for the snap.
When I reopen them, he’s staring, mouth open, eyebrows tight.
“You honestly think that’s how I see you? That I’m trying to fixyou? I’ve been fixing because it helps me feel like I’m still capable of doing something right. I’ve lost so much,” he pauses, his voice cracking on the last word, “and you somehow make it all feel less broken. ”
I wince at his honesty.
“I’m broken, too,” I whisper. “So how am I helping?”
“Because I don’t feel so alone. When I helped at the studio and brought the cookies, it made me feelaliveagain, Chloe. Like I’m part of something.” He presses a fist to his chest. “I’ve got a deadline to make, and if I miss it, the farm—and what’s left of my family—suffers. I don’t know how to fix that, Chloe, but Icanhelp fix all of this.”
The heater clicks on, and the lights give one soft flicker, like the house is listening.
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
It’s all I can say, because my mind is reeling. Aiden has always been honest to a fault, but this is a new kind of honesty.
There are too many “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s” in this scenario, my work scenario—practically my whole adult life.
And I need some solid ground, not quicksand.
Silence stretches between us. His jaw ticks beneath his dark beard; his eyes are storm-blue and steady.
“Then I need to do a better job of making myself clear.”
“Aiden—”
He lifts a hand. “I see someone who’s had more than her share thrown at her—and still builds a castle. I see the most incredible mother Phoebe could have. You’re running yourself ragged with a smile to make sure she has what she needs.”
