He just stares at the box for a long time.
“Have you been with him this whole time? Since he has been a client?”
He doesn’t look angry—just worried, with his eyebrows furrowed. I am suddenly unsure where to put my hands or my feet. Relief rushes through me when I hear a sharp repetitive beeping sound come from my kitchen, quickly cutting the tension in half.
“No, I wasn’t with him,” I say flatly, leaping off the couch to grab the cookies that are ready to be taken out. They look perfect sitting in the middle rack, the gooey chocolate pouring out of the dough.
“Fucking idiot!” I yell, realizing too late that I forgot to put on an oven mitt as the tray brands my skin. I throw the pan haphazardly onto the stovetop. The singe of my own burning flesh hits me all at once.
“UGHH, this really fucking hurts!” I gasp, clutching my burned hand.
“What just happened?” He yells from the other room before darting into the kitchen where I am standing.
All I can focus on is his question he asked me before.
“I don’t think this is about Holden. I think it’s about the fact that we can’t even make time for each other.”
“Charlotte, let me get you some ice.”
“No, stay there.” I wince as I run over to my sink, letting the cool water wash over the throbbing ache in my hand.
“How long have you felt this way?”
I don’t dare turn around. I feel his presence right behind me, watching me closely—I just can’t.
“Since you stopped…” I wince again, feeling the sting come back again.
“Let’s put ice on it,” he demands.
“No, it’s fine. Just let me get through this.”
“Okay,” he mumbles.
“I’m not sure when it stopped, but one day you stopped caring enough to ask. I can’t even remember the last time you held my door.”
I can hear him opening my freezer and pulling out an ice pack.
“I can hold the door for you again!”
“That’s not the point, Aidan.”
Just like that, something in my chest cracks wide open. I know this will hurt more than my own burning flesh.
“We’ve been together for so long that I thought our routine was status quo. We just faded when everything in our lives got louder. If we were supposed to move in together, it would’ve happened by now. And not because you saw a photo of me with another guy.”
“Of course I want to move in with you. Even before you started working with Holden. I never stopped caring.”
“Maybe. But somewhere along the way, I forgot to remove the pickles off your burger and you forgot what kind of coffee I like.”
My breathing is becoming more erratic as it takes everything inside of me to admit this to him—or more or less myself—out loud.
“Baby. Please don’t do this. I love you.” Aidan is pleading, on the verge of getting down on his hands and knees.
“Stop making this harder.” A small tear ripples down my face faster than I can stop it. A full-blown sob bursts out of me as if it’s been sitting in my chest waiting to be let out.
“Don’t cry, Charlotte.” He swipes the tear from my chin, passing me an ice pack already in his hand.
“Too late.” I stop the faucet, only hearing droplets fall slowly.
