Aidan

by Sydney Landon

  “Mom—don’t,” I manage to choke out past the huge lump in my throat.

  “Sweet boy, let me finish,” she chides. “You were a crazy and rambunctious boy who grew into an intelligent, driven, and thoughtful man. You’re successful in business and have amazing friends who love you. Only one thing is missing from your life, and that’s the type of love that you can only find with your soul mate.”

  Holy fucking shit, I can’t believe she’s going there. “Not everyone has that,” I state calmly. “I tried, and it didn’t happen. Sometimes, you have to realize that you weren’t meant to go the traditional route.”

  “That’s such a cop-out,” she snaps.

  “If you’re trying to make this last speech warm and fuzzy, you’re kind screwing it up,” I point out wryly.

  She giggles, which leads to yet another round of coughing before she gets herself back under control. “Let’s face it, I’ve never been a traditional mom. I have too much personality for that. Plus, I always had to kick your butt when you were bad since your dad couldn’t stand doing it.”

  “Please, neither could you.” I laugh. “Both of you guys were always suckers for some tears.”

  Smirking, she says, “I knew half the time they weren’t even real. But I figured if you went to the effort to rub water or spit on your face to fake a good cry, then you deserved to be cut some slack.” She shifts around in bed, trying to get comfortable. “Now, as I was saying. I don’t want you to close yourself off to finding love. I realize that you believe Cassie was the one for you, but that’s not what I believe. I think if you break it down, you loved her in the same way you love Luc. But since she was a girl, and a beautiful one at that, your emotions just took over.”

  I really fucking hate talking about Cassie, especially to my mom. With anyone else, I’d end this right now, but shit, what am I supposed to do? This is my mother . . . who is dying. If this is the last real conversation we have, I can’t possibly snap the way I want to. Sit here and listen . . . for her. Let her die feeling as if she helped you. “Mom, I think it was a bit more than that,” I say gently, since she appears to be awaiting a response from me.

  Her eyes are full of empathy as she stares into mine. “Maybe it was, son, but she wasn’t the one for you. There was never any joy on your face or in your heart when she was around. You followed her around like a lost puppy, and she was more than happy to encourage that. In all the years you loved her, do you ever once recall being happy when she was near? Or were those moments always filled with torment? When you love someone, even if they’re not yours, there should still be times you’re together in simple ways that you treasure. Laughing over a joke. Remembering a smile over something silly. Countless moments captured in time that you play in your head like a movie when you’re alone. Do you have any of that when you remember Cassie?”

  Now I’m the one shifting on her bed as her words sink in, and I try to come up with even one instance I felt happy when I was with Cassie. And try as I might, every occasion had some type of turmoil involved. Dear God, had I never once just been glad to be with her? We were friends before she ended up with Luc. Shouldn’t some kind of easy relationship have continued on, regardless of how I felt about her? Fuck. I drop my head and massage my temples. I don’t want my mother to see how upset I am by this conversation. She’s forced me to take my feelings out and examine them in a way that I’ve never done before, and it’s shaken me to the core. “God,” I hiss out, “I don’t know what to think, Mom.” And with those last words, I know I sound like her little boy again, lost and scared.

  Obviously having heard it too, she motions me closer and runs her gaunt hand through my hair, soothing me as she always has. “Shhh, I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetheart. I just need you to see that your love is still out there. I couldn’t leave you knowing you were so closed off to the future and what it holds for you. I want to look down on you and see you walking hand in hand with the woman you love. One who will make you laugh, smile, and even argue with passion. I want to see you with my grandchildren being the kind of man and father that I know you can be. Life is for living, my beautiful boy, not simply existing. The world is full of endless possibilities as long as you’re open to letting them in.”

  “I hate this,” I sob against her side as grief pierces my soul. She’s saying goodbye to me in a way that only she can. “What joy can there possibly be in a future that doesn’t include you?”

  “But I’ll be there, son,” she assures me softly. “I’ll be the hand on your shoulder when you need strength, the whispering wind on your face when you’re sad, and the voice in your head urging you to reconsider when you’re wrong. There is no power in this world great enough to keep me away from you. I may leave this broken body behind, but my spirit will never be far away. Whenever you need me, just close your eyes and I’ll be there. Talk to me just as you are now. We may not have a relationship in the conventional sense, but the bonds we have will transcend even death. It’s been a great honor and privilege to be your mother. Your father and I have done our very best to lead you down the right pathway in life. You’re a man now, and I think you’re ready to walk those same paths alone. Your father will be here for guidance and advice, and I’ll be above for support. Just remember that even on your darkest days, I’ll be a light for you to find your way.”

  “How can you promise me all of this?” I whisper, desperately wanting to believe in her slowly spoken, loving words. Not only are her words slicing apart my heart, but watching her wheeze and struggle to speak them is slaying me. Such is the love of a mother, as they say.

  “Because after months of praying for answers, I finally found peace. Something that would have never happened had I not known in my heart that I’d be here for you in some form. I realize that it’s difficult to accept, but I believe with everything inside me that I’ll see you and your father live your lives. Hopefully, after I’m gone and you’ve had time to mourn, you’ll discover the truth behind my words.”

  “I love you more than anything in this world,” I say between sobs. My heart is shattering, and I can’t imagine it ever coming back together again. How many times in your life can a heart break and heal itself? Despite her earlier assurances that I’ll find love, it seems impossible in this instance. I fear I have nothing left to give to another.

  “And I love you, my beautiful baby boy. Never, ever doubt that.” She begins to tire, and her words are slurring. I lean over to drop a kiss on her cheek. I pull the oxygen mask back over her face and smooth her hair off her forehead. She’s sleeping when I leave the room.

  I rouse my dad from where he’s dozing on the sofa. Since Mom is using their bedroom, he’s set up camp in the living room. They have a couple spare bedrooms, but I don’t think he can bring himself to use one of them. I wonder what he’ll do when she’s gone. Will any of us ever be able to stay in this house again without feeling her loss? On the other hand, I’m not sure my dad would be able to move for the same reason. He takes one look at my face and is on his feet. “We chatted for a while, so she’s resting again now.” God, this is so hard. “Go in. She’ll know you’re there.” His eyes search mine as they always do when we “change shifts.” We live each day now wondering if this will be her last. We both need that reassurance from the other that she’s still fighting the fight. There is no way I can tell him about the conversation I had with her because he’d see it as a goodbye just as I did. And as crushing as it is to lose a mother, he’s on the verge of losing a wife. The woman he made his life with. His soul mate. They’ve been together for almost forty years now. What it must be like to know you’re going to lose that, and you can’t do anything to stop it?

  He’s handled this better than I could have imagined. I’ve gained a newfound respect for his strength and courage. He’s been determined to make her last days as peaceful for her as possible. While I’ve struggled with depression, he’s soldiered on, carrying not only my mother at times but me as well. Truthfully, I don’t thin
k I could have held it together without him. I’ve always thought of my father as an exceptional man, but I’ve also been privileged to see why my mother loves him so much. He’s the rock that supported her and the safety net there to catch her. She was able to shine like the brightest star because she never had to fear losing her way. He was her true north and that hasn’t changed. Will I ever be that to a woman? Do I have that in me? I squeeze his shoulder as he moves toward the door. “She’s talking today?”

  “Yeah, she is.” I smile. “She made me take the oxygen mask off. At one point, there was even some profanity,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

  He looks somewhat calmer now that I feel like I’m sending a lamb to the slaughter. We’ve both harbored hope that she’d have some miracle recovery, but I know now. That isn’t going to happen. She’s leaving us, and it’s going to happen soon. It’s not my place to tell him that, though. He’ll know soon enough. My mother is saying her goodbyes, and he’s almost certainly next in line to receive his. I have a feeling his strength will be tested, and his walls will crumble. At some point, losing a loved one must be faced, and there is no way for anyone to make that better. You can only hope that somewhere down the line you’ll be able to pick up the pieces left behind and face the day without giving in to the sorrow within. Somehow, you learn to live with the hole in your heart created by their death. Somehow.

  9

  Kara

  I sit in the back pew of the church while the pastor delivers the eulogy for Ginny Spencer. I fought a battle with myself when Uncle Lee told me about Aidan’s mom passing away. But in the end, I was almost obsessed with attending her funeral. Why, I don’t know. Aidan isn’t even aware I’m here. I sent flowers, but the odds of him actually knowing that with the amount of them decorating the church is small.

  The room is so crowded that I’ve been able to do little but make out the back of his head. Lucian, followed by other friends and family, has given his speech. Neither Aidan nor his father spoke, which is understandable. I’m sure they’re barely holding it together. I know from the times he talked about his parents that they were extremely close, and he is an only child.

  When the moment arrives for the family to leave the church for the graveside service, I brace to see Aidan make his exit. Instead, he walks to the coffin and takes up a position on the side, as does his father. Then Lucian takes the lead, along with Max Denton and a couple of other men I don’t recognize. As the casket makes its way through the church and up the aisle, I watch the man who has come to mean so much to me. His face is noticeably thinner, and his eyes are red rimmed and glassy. He’s cut his hair, which only seems to emphasize the paleness of his features.

  I am so busy drinking in every detail of him that when I reach his eyes once again, I’m startled to see him staring back at me. His face floods with recognition and for a brief moment, time stands still, and there is only the two of us. My lips part and my insides quiver. God, I’ve missed him so much it hurts. “Aidan.” His name is a whisper on my lips, and I know he sees it. Then almost in the blink of an eye, it’s over, and he’s passing the bench where I’m sitting. I feel boneless as I slump back against the bench. If that had been a test to see if my heart had let him go, I’d just failed. Just seeing him again literally makes my heart hurt. He is clearly in so much pain, and I want nothing more than to put my arms around him and soothe the hurt.

  My mother and father are out of town on a long overdue holiday, but Uncle Lee is sitting several rows ahead of me. I’m sure he’ll be surprised to see me here since he doesn’t know about my association with Aidan. I get to my feet when everyone else does, prepared to go to my car and skip the graveside service. I’ve made it a few steps when I feel a hand on my arm. Whirling around in surprise, I see Lia standing there with a smile on her face. “Kara, I thought that was you. Lee didn’t tell me you were home.”

  I give her a hug, genuinely happy to see her. Thanks to my cancer and recovery, I have spent very little time with the newest addition to the Jacks family, which is something I regret. I know she had a tough life growing up with an abusive mother and stepfather. My uncle was crushed when he found out he had a daughter in her twenties he’d never known about. He stepped up immediately and has built a strong relationship with her. Truthfully, I’ve never seen him happier. “I just got home yesterday, so I don’t think he even knows. Where’s Lara?” I ask, looking around for Lia’s fourteen-month-old daughter. A wave of guilt hits me as I realize I barely know her either. My cancer was so much more than an illness. It took away my interest in life and everyone in it. I’m so tired of being that person. I never understood how it was to be in a room full of people yet feel so completely alone as I do right now. Even as I smile and make polite conversation with her, a big part of me is removed from what’s going on. I’m on autopilot as usual, and I fucking hate it. I want to be myself again. This robot I’ve let myself become isn’t me.

  “She’s with our nanny. I didn’t want her to be a disruption during the service today, and she’s not very good at staying still or quiet for long. Hey, do you want to ride to the other service with me? Luc’s going to be in the family car with Aidan.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but minutes later, I’m sitting next to a cousin I barely know. How I yearn for that to change. I want Lia in my life.

  It’s just a few miles to the cemetery, and all too soon, I’m on Lia’s other side while she stands next to Aidan. His head is down as the pastor speaks, and I see his shoulders shake. Luc is standing between who I assume is Aidan’s father and Aidan trying to comfort them as best he can. I have no idea how it happens, but when I hear a sob escape from his lips, I move, almost as if unaware of what I’m doing. I care deeply for this man, and he’s hurting. I give no thought to the fact that he may not even want me here. The bond formed between us in those weeks we had together simply will not let me turn away from his pain. I nudge Lia aside and touch his hand. He looks down at me, and I see such staggering anguish there, I slide my arm around him and lay my head on his shoulder. He stiffens for a moment and then collapses against me. His head drops to the top of mine, and we’re clinging to each other. I’ve no doubt that we’ve drawn attention, especially from our immediate group of friends and family, but I could give a shit. He needs me now, and that’s all that matters.

  I barely recall meeting Aidan’s parents at Luc’s wedding, but I’m crying for the loss of a woman so obviously loved. I’m crying for the loss this man beside me is enduring. Life simply isn’t fair sometimes. As the service ends, he takes a couple of deep breaths as he fights to get himself under control. Why should he? He’s just lost his mom, so why should he have to be under control? He should be allowed to grieve, to sob in his loss. I rub my hand soothingly up and down his back, and his grip on me tightens for a moment before relaxing. He’s gathered his composure now, and he gently pulls away from my embrace. When my arms fall to my side, he reaches down and takes one of my hands in his. No words pass between us, which should be strange but somehow isn’t. He shakes hands with what seems like hundreds of people as he accepts their words of condolence. Luc says something to him about going back to the house for a gathering, but Aidan shakes his head. He turns to Lia who is still next to me and asks, “Did you drive here?” When she nods, he asks, “Can I borrow your car? I need to get away for a while.”

  “Of course, I’ll go with Luc,” she says softly as she hands him her keys. I think he’ll let me go at this point, but he keeps a firm hold as he stops to whisper something to his father, and then we’re walking away from the remaining crowd and toward the parking lot.

  He flips a button to unlock the car and then opens the passenger door for me. I look up at him, but his expression is blank and impassive. The emotion from earlier is gone, and I can almost believe I imagined it except for the redness remaining around his beautiful eyes. I stand for a moment uncertain of what I’m doing here until he crushes all of my indecision with a few quietly spoken words. “I need you,
princess.” That’s it. I’m done for. I settle into the leather seat, and he shuts the door behind me. He walks around the front of the car and gets in the driver’s side.

  “Where are we going?” I ask when it’s obvious he doesn’t intend to fill the silence.

  He shrugs. “To my place. Everyone is going back to my parents’—my dad’s house—and I just need some distance for now.”

  I reach over and put my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about your mom.” It seems pointless to add any false sentiment since I didn’t know her. I also have a feeling he’s heard as much of that as he can handle for the day.

  He nods his head once to acknowledge my words before saying, “I was so damn surprised to see you in the church. How long have you been back?”

  I think about lying, not sure how it’ll sound if I admit that I only came back to be here for him. Screw it. “I got in last night. Uncle Lee told me about your mom, and I wanted to come today.”

  He shocks me when he admits, “I’ve missed you, princess. I came back home to one of my worst nightmares, and it’s pretty damned ironic when I thought I’d already lived through that. Some days when Mom was sleeping, and I had a minute to myself, I thought about you. Wondered if you were still at the beach or if you’d moved on to somewhere else. I wanted to call just to hear your voice, but I didn’t think you’d answer your phone.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat because he’s undoubtedly right. Even though I ached to be with him again, I’d spent weeks after he left trying to convince myself it could never happen. Hell, I shouldn’t be here now. The last thing he needs after losing his mother is comfort from a woman who is barely holding it together most days. What could I offer him? I knew he’d been through hell; it was there on his face. At the very least, I was high risk and always would be. And I felt like an imposter sitting beside him as if I had more to offer than I did.