Did theyallhear?
Suddenly, the air is too thick. I try to suck in a breath, but it’s not enough. My legs propel me to my desk where I snatch up my bag, and Aidan is at my side in an instant.
“Iris,” he pleads urgently. “Wait. I didn’t mean…”
But I’m already starting down the stairs. I don’t even have to think—it’s instinctive to get away. Away from my coworkers who heard it all.
Away from the man I trusted.
How could he say that about me? And to myfather, no less? As if he needs more ammunition against me.
I barely notice myself clambering down the steps to the subway. Barely register staggering onto a train. I ride the subway in a daze, my weekend with Aidan coming back to me in flashes. The moment he told me he loved me. How it felt to make love to him with that knowledge. Waking beside him, cooking with him, the moment we shared in the shower where he washed my hair so tenderly, I wanted to sob.
But all I can wonder is… did I misunderstand everything? Does he think there’s something wrong with me? Has he thought that the entire time? Why would he tell me he loves me if he thinks I’m broken?
Somehow, I arrive in Queens, climbing the stairs in my building on shaky legs. I don’t even notice Aidan waiting outside my apartment until I’m on the doorstep, and I crash right into him.
“Iris.” He steadies me when I stumble, expression agonized. “Please let me explain.”
I blink up at him. It takes a moment to compute that Aidan is in my hallway. He must have driven straight here. My gaze moves over his handsome face—those stormy-gray eyes, thatbeard flecked with silver—waiting for the onslaught of emotion. Anger. Betrayal. Misery.
But all I feel is numb.
“I am so, so sorry,” he says hoarsely. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
A disbelieving huff escapes me. So, he wanted to tell my father I have this… thisthing… behind my back?
He shakes his head, as if realizing he’s not explaining himself well. “I wanted to talk to you about it first. My sister was just diagnosed, and it made me think… Shit.” He drags both hands down his face, looking pained. “This is not how I wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I choke out. “That you think I’m… I’m…defective?”
His face crumbles. “God, no, baby.No. You’re not defective. You’re wonderful. You’re everything to me.”
He steps closer, holding out his hands, but I don’t offer mine. How can I when I feel like I don’t even know this man?
“This doesn’t change how I see you,” Aidan says, growing desperate. “I love this about you, Iris. I love everything about you. I only want to help.”
“Help?” I echo, chest tight and hot. “So, youdothink there’s something wrong with me?” The thought stings me to my core. All my life I’ve known I’m different. A fuck-up. That I always fall short where others succeed.
But with Aidan… With Aidan, for a little while at least, I didn’t feel that way anymore. I felt like he saw me as whole. As okay, just as I am.
How could I have been so naive?
“No,” he says fiercely. “There’snothingwrong with you, Iris. Nothing.”
These words should comfort me, but they’re hollow. My entire body feels hollow. Empty. A shell carved out and discarded.
Aidan tries to reach for me, then thinks better of it. “I think you struggle sometimes, sweetheart,” he continues gently, “and it’s not your fault. Maybe there’s a reason, and we could find a way to make life easier for you.”
Tears burn my eyes, and I look away, too ashamed to let him see. Further proof of how broken I am. All I want is to crawl into bed and never leave.
“I can’t do this,” I mutter. “Please… please go.”
“Shit.” This time Aidan’s gentle hands land on my shoulders, but I flinch. “I don’t want to leave you. Not like this.”
I swallow, blinking the tears from my eyes, and force my gaze to his. My heart stumbles when I see his eyes are moist, ringed with worry and heartache. He didn’t intend to hurt me. He means what he’s saying.
But is that enough?
