His mouth hitched upward. “I’m glad you think so. She can be a little much for some. Kind of like... getting shot in the face with a glitter cannon. But I love that about her.”
Aubrey half-smiled. “She’s sodifferentthan you.”
He rasped a laugh, devoid of mirth. “Yeah. Also what I love about her.”
She cut him a glance, but he looked away.
“So. . .” She twiddled her thumbs in her lap. “You’ll be back next Saturday? You and me and Paige’ll be working together? Every week?”
“Looks that way. Unless you ask Megan to switch.”
She mulled that over. “I’d rather not. Ididtell her I was completely. . .”
“What?”
She bit her lip. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. She’s done a pretty impressive job of backing me into a corner, either way.”
He cracked a smile. Maybe not so innocent, then. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first. And you definitely won’t be the last.”
“Yeah. She even went to the trouble of giving herself a defensebeforeI suspected anything. Which is pretty diabolical.”
He grinned, relishing her word choice.Diabolicalwas a favorite of his. “She’s basically just a tiny, pregnant Machiavelli.”
Aubrey snorted. Her green eyes warmed, and the moment of shared understanding flared into connection. Just for a second, but it was one Nick took hold of and stuffed into a mental pocket, for the express purpose of torturing himself with it later.
He eventually pulled into Aubrey’s cul-de-sac.
“Thanks for the ride.” She was in the process of unlatching her belt when he reached out to stop her. She snatched her hand away, so he raised his in a show of contrition.
“Sorry. Look. There’s just something I want to say. Something that’s been weighing on me since the other day.”
She stilled.
He hesitated, but he had to get this out. It had been crawling around inside him for more than a decade now, trying to find the light of day, and this was his chance. Probably his firstandlast, because once Aubrey returned to New York, he wouldn’t see her again.
He cleared his throat. “The other night, when I said I didn’t regret how things ended, I only meant because of Paige. Because she’s... everything to me. My pride and joy. The family I never had. Regretting her would be like regretting my life’s meaning, and I can’t do that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret hurting you. Because I do. I’ve regretted it every day for seventeen years.”
Aubrey’s lips parted. She stared, her chest hitching. Something complex moved across her face, so deep and wide he had no hope of untangling it.
Not that he needed to. This was for her, not him.
“And I want you to understand,” he continued, “that if there’d been any way to raise Paige right and keep from losing you, I would’ve done it. I would’ve done any fucking thing. If I could’ve sawed myself in two and given each of you half, I would have. In a heartbeat. But I couldn’t, and I’m sorry for that. I’m so sorry for the way I hurt you, Aubs. Really. For losing you. I can’t even tell you. I’ve wanted to say that for years.”
A faint whimper snagged in her throat.
He curled his hands around the steering wheel and squeezed, mostly to keep himself from reaching out again. A thousand other confessions piled onto his tongue, about loneliness andlonging and guilt. But he knew how it would come across, like he was asking for something, and he wasn’t. He just needed to give this to her, needed to hand her his truth so she could do with it what she would.
“I... don’t know what to say.” Her voice warbled. A sheen misted her eyes. “Except thank you, I think. And... maybe I understand, now. After meeting her.”
Honeyed relief cascaded through him. It was more than he could have hoped for, and he clenched the wheel so tightly his fingers ached. If he didn’t, he would do something idiotic, like slide across the bench seat and hug her.
“I guess you should also know that. . .” She fumbled and stopped, deliberating. “Youdidmean something to me. You meant everything, actually. Then and—”
A razorblade breath sliced into his lungs. He waited, but she didn’t continue, and the unsaid word dangled in the air, a promise so sweet he couldn’t bear to have it broken.
Now.Thenand now.
He willed her to say it. If she did, he would tell her he still loved her. Fuck everything else, all the doubts, theshould’ve-known-betters, because there went her pulse again, a frantic shimmer in the divot between her collarbones. He swore he wasn’t imagining it.Orthe heat in those verdant eyes.
