I take a cautious step closer, my heart aching at the sight of him so upset. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to make it worse, so I just…handled it the best I could.”
He shakes his head, and the emotion in his eyes tugs at my heart. “You did the right thing,” he says. “I just… I wasn’t ready for this. I was never going to be ready for this.”
I reach out, gently taking his hand in mine. His fingers reluctantly unclench, and I give them a reassuring squeeze. “I know. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
He nods, taking a deep breath, visibly trying to compose himself. “Isla,” he says suddenly, his voice tinged with worry. “She didn’t see Emily, did she?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, she was playing in the living room the whole time. She has no idea.”
Relief washes over his face, but it’s short-lived. Tension creeps back into his shoulders. “Did she say if she’d be back?”
“She just said she’d wait to speak to you,” I reply, watching his reaction carefully. “She gave me her number.” I pull the paper from my pocket and offer it to him.
He stares at it as if it might explode at any moment. The muscle in his jaw ticks, and for a fleeting second, I think he’s going to crumple it up and throw it aside. Then he exhales a deep, weary sigh and tucks it into his pocket instead.
“I’ll deal with that later,” he grumbles, his voice strained. “Right now, I just want to see Isla.”
I nod, reaching out to squeeze his hand one more time before we head inside. As we step through the door, Isla comes barreling toward us, launching herself into his arms.
He catches Isla effortlessly, lifting her high and pulling her close. “Hey, princess.”
My heart twists as I watch him hold her. Aidan clutchesIsla like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. His large hands tremble slightly against her small back, and his eyes squeeze shut for just a moment too long. It’s more than the usual welcome home hug. It’s desperate, protective, as if he’s afraid she might vanish if he loosens his grip even the littlest bit.
“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” Isla giggles.
“Sorry, wee lass,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t immediately let go. Instead, he presses his face into her wild curls, breathing her in. When he finally sets her down, I catch the slight sheen in his eyes before he blinks it away.
Even though the circumstances aren’t great, the sweetness of it squeezes something in my chest. Then, just as quickly, my stomach lurches. The smell of roasted chicken, warm and heavy in the air, turns sharp in my nose. What had made my mouth water minutes ago now ties my insides in knots. I draw in a deep breath, but it only makes it worse.
I grip the edge of the counter tightly, my knuckles turning white. My mind races, trying to process everything that’s unfolded in the past hour, from the unexpected visit from the woman at the door, Aidan’s visceral reaction, and now this sudden wave of nausea. It’s too much.
Isla’s laughter drifts in from the living room, where Aidan is undoubtedly putting on a brave face for her sake. I know I should be in there with them, helping to maintain this façade of normalcy. But at the moment, I can barely keep myself upright.
I close my eyes, willing the queasiness to subside, but it only grows stronger. It has to be the stress of everything happening all at once.
“Hey, are you okay?” Aidan’s voice calls from behind me, breaking through my thoughts.
I turn to face him, forcing a weak smile. “I’m…” I begin, but the words catch in my throat as another wave of nausea washes over me. The kitchen suddenly feels too hot, too small.
I stumble slightly, and Aidan’s strong arms are there in an instant, bracing me. His touch, usually so comforting, now feels like an unwelcome fire against my skin. The concern in his eyes is unmistakable, a deep furrow forming between his brows as he studies my face.
His fingers gently brush my cheek. “You’re pale as a ghost.”
“I think I’m going to lie down,” I whisper. Dizziness clings to me, warping my surroundings.
He guides me up the stairs, his arm fixed around my waist. As we reach the bedroom, he gently eases me onto the bed. The cool sheets beneath me offer some relief.
I sink into the pillow, closing my eyes against the spinning room. Aidan’s weight settles on the edge of the bed as he brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. The nausea churns in my stomach, threatening to rise. I take another slow, measured breath, willing it away.
He hesitates, his gaze lingering on me for a long moment, before he nods. “All right.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek one last time before standing. “If you need anything, I’m right here.”
I hear his footsteps recede down the hall, followed by the muffled sound of his voice as he talks to Isla. I can’t make out the words, but I imagine he’s reassuring her, telling her I’m just not feeling well and need to rest.
It doesn’t take long before I drift off.
thirty-five
