“Great,” she said into the phone. “Monday. I’ll see you then.”
35.
The next morning, Aubrey packed her bags, then booked a hotel in New York for the following night. She would spend most of Sunday on a Greyhound bus before starting back at Osos on Monday. Over the coming week, she’d have to find a new apartment to lease, but moving wouldn’t present much challenge; all her things still sat in storage in Brooklyn.
She’d known, all along, that she would be back.
At noon, Aubrey blocked Gallant’s number, then deleted all eight of his voicemails without even listening. Then she did Pilates until her midsection blazed white-hot. Afterward, she drank tea and thought about Nick.
She would have to see him before the day ended. She couldn’t just skip town without a word. She’d have to go tell him goodbye, get closure, finally.
Yet her whole body buzzed when she thought about it, all the frazzled energy from yesterday still running rampant. Closure. Ha. Was that what this bone-deep thirst was? This ache that permeated her on a cellular level? She could probably repeat the word until her lips turned blue, yet it didn’t soothe the lightning-bolt hum inside her, or quiet her suspicion that coming here had only raveled the knotty equation of her life tighter.
Shit. How was she supposed to look Nick in the eye again, knowing what she knew? That even though his letters had been passed to her through another’s hands, he must have, on some level, always intended those words for her?
Except that, for all that everything had changed,nothinghad changed. She had to go. Nick had to stay. She understood, now, after meeting Paige, why that was true.
At least... she understood why it was true for the next two years, until Paige graduated.
Then again, what was two years, in the grand scheme of things? Who the fuck cared about two years, when she’d already endured seventeen without him?
A fragile hope budded inside her.
Outside the window, it began to snow. Aubrey went and looked out. The snow thickened, fat flakes gushing from the sky.
When it began to pile up, she went and took a long, hot shower, which did nothing to soothe the chaos inside her. By the time she finished, evening had fallen, along with a heavy blanket of white. Aubrey reached for her phone, then realized she didn’t have Nick’s number. She’d have to track him down some other way, so she dug tall snow boots from her closet, paired them with fleece leggings and her overcoat, and ventured outside.
The freshly fallen snow sighed apart before her footsteps. Cold nipped at her cheeks. The sky hung low, the clouds a hazy, reflective orange.
Somehow, she knew exactly where to go, and twenty minutes later, she found herself peering through the lit window of Wilder’s MMA Academy.
Nick was inside, alone at the back, pummeling a sandbag to within an inch of its life. The great muscles of his back rippled as his fists blurred. One glance, and she could read the lines of his body like poetry, see anguish written in the hunch of his shoulders.
Her heart squeezed out a thickened beat. Clearly, he’d asked Tansy about Paige. And he hadn’t gotten the answer he’d wanted.
His desperate sadness opened up a canyon inside her. Maybe she should leave. Give him some time to process before—
“Are you going in?”
Aubrey startled. A hulking, absurdly tall man stood beside her. She squinted up, recognizing the smiling giant Nick had sparred with the first time she’d stood here.
“I was just trying to decide,” she said. Her candor surprised her, but despite this man’s size, he exuded an aura of gentleness. Enough that the words had just slipped free.
“You should,” he said. “He’s waiting for me, but seeingyouwalk through that door would make him a whole lot happier.”
Her brows flicked upward. “You know who I am?”
“Oh, yes.” He grinned. “Aubrey MacLean. I know all about you.”
She groped for a response and came up empty.
“I’m Jackson.” He stuck out a mittened hand.
She shook it. “I take it... Nick’s talked about me, then?”
He laughed, his rich baritone chasing away the cold. “Oh, he never shuts up. It’s always Aubrey this, Aubrey that. I’ve never met anyone who’s got it as bad as he does.”
She swiveled back to the window, trying to absorb that. Nick landed a punch that sent the bag swinging away.
