by Donna Alward
In her driveway, he put the car in park and sat, speechless, trying to reconcile himself with his last thoughts. He loved her. He hadn’t planned on it. He’d known they needed to go slowly. He didn’t do love. He wasn’t built for it …
What a time to realize how deeply his feelings ran. Just when she was furious with him. Erica had told him that he was only in it for fun and didn’t take love seriously. She’d been wrong. He’d just been young and not ready.
He looked over at Laurel. The past month had shown him something completely different. For the first time in his life, he felt like putting someone else’s needs ahead of his own.
“Laurel,” he said softly.
CHAPTER 16
Laurel twisted her fingers in her lap. She didn’t know what to think right now. The day had been just one big mess of emotions. Most of all, she was starting to realize that she had a lot of anger that she hadn’t dealt with yet.
“Now’s not the time to go through this, Aiden.”
“When would be a good time?” His voice was quieter now. And she thought she sensed a hesitation in it. The whole atmosphere of the car was one of trepidation and uncertainty. Like either one of them was only a breath away from saying something they couldn’t take back.
“I don’t know. I’m mixed up, okay? Part of me knows that you’re right. I’ve been too nice. I’ve said yes to things because I wanted to be the understanding, supportive one but I ignored my own feelings along the way and now it’s all catching up with me.” She sighed. “Oh, Aiden, it’s not fair to drag you into all that.”
“Are you saying you want to break up?”
She looked over at him. “Break up? That would mean that we were … are … a couple.”
“Aren’t we?”
Oh God. She was feeling more and more trapped as the day went on. Everything was all off-balance. “I don’t know. We said no labels, remember? Day by day. Nothing serious…”
“We’re sleeping together, Laurel. I don’t just do that without some feelings being involved, despite what you and some other people might think.”
She was relieved to hear it, but it scared her, too. Because she felt the same way. She could never have had sex with him if she didn’t care about him. He’d been kind, gentle … constant. He hadn’t given her a single reason to doubt him.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Maybe that’s true. We’re involved. I wouldn’t have taken you today just as arm candy, no matter what we said.”
Silence dropped for a minute, and she wondered if they were both thinking about what to say next. She didn’t know how to do this. Dan was really the most relationship experience she’d had, and it had all been based on a lie.
“What are you really angry about?” he finally asked, turning in his seat and pinning her with a steady gaze.
“I don’t know!” Her voice lifted and she felt her lip quiver. The stupid thing was, she had all the emotions bubbling inside her and she couldn’t sort through them all on the spot.
She wanted to believe in him. Wanted to trust in their feelings for each other. But she wasn’t there yet. “I’m getting sick and tired of smiling for everyone and acting like everything’s okay, okay?” Her voice rose. “I knew that Dan was struggling so I felt like I had to be kind and generous and supportive, and it’s not like I wasn’t those things sometimes, but I shoved down all the other things I felt. I felt duped into a marriage that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I felt robbed of the future I’d envisioned and the hopes for children we might have had. I’m so sick of swallowing down my disappointments, Aiden. Sick and tired of it!”
She was nearly yelling at the end. Aiden calmly looked at her and asked, “Do you feel a little bit better?”
She didn’t. All her rant had done was pop the cork on all the emotions she’d held back. And she did what she hadn’t done yet. Not once. She burst into tears. Big, gulping tears that were full of sadness and frustration and loss.
“Shhh,” she heard, and felt the seatbelt give way from around her hips. Aiden had unhooked it and let it retract, then pulled her as close as he could. Her outer thigh was pressed uncomfortably against the console and gear stick as his arms came around her.
“Let’s get you inside,” he whispered, his breath warm on her hair. “Come on, sweetheart.”
She nodded mutely, and he gave her a squeeze before pulling away and opening the car door. She was sniffling as he opened her door and took her hand, the flood of tears only partially staunched. Overall there was just a feeling that things were unfair. And as Aiden shut the front door behind them, she looked at her foyer and living room and realized she lived here but it wasn’t her home. There were no pictures on the wall or bits of herself in the décor. There was nothing of her life because most of her life contained things she’d rather forget. The thought made her sad all over again, and the tears spilled once more. She’d never been one for waterworks …
Aiden tugged on her hand and pulled her over to the sofa, where he sat down and put her on his lap. It felt so good and safe in his arms. She let it all in, finally: the hurt, the disillusionment, the guilt. Yes, there was guilt, too, for harboring such awful feelings and knowing she probably wasn’t a very good human being because of it. He’d asked her once if the garden center was a consolation prize. She didn’t want it to be, but in some ways it was. She’d been so determined to do something positive after the divorce. And she did love it. But there was still a definite sense of slinking home with her tail between her legs after her failed marriage that still, months later, fed the gossip mill. Particularly thanks to Dan deciding to remarry at that stupid, stupid bridge.
She took a deep breath and a mighty sniff. “The last thing I need is for you to come riding to my rescue. I’m on my own now, don’t you see? I’ve got to fight my own battles.”
“Who says?”
“What?” She looked up into his eyes.
“Who says you’re on your own? You have your parents and Willow and me … and that’s just a basic start.”
She pushed up out of his arms a bit. “Maybe what I should have said was that I need to fight my own battles.”
“Everyone needs help from time to time.”
“Help means then that you owe somebody something. Or that you can’t do it yourself. I can. I know I can.”
“But if you don’t ever allow anyone to help, you don’t trust them, either,” he countered.
Why was he being so tough on her? One moment he was cuddling her in his lap, offering sympathy, and in the next it truly felt as if he were blaming her for something.
She’d disappointed him, too. She could tell, in the thin line of frustration in his voice and the way he held himself back just a bit. What the hell did he want from her?
“Trust?” she countered. “Bah. Where has trusting people ever got me? Oh sure, I was brought up in this great home where there was all sorts of love and security. And then I quickly realized that life isn’t really like that for most people. I trusted because I didn’t know any differently. Today’s a prime example of what happens to people who trust blindly. Heck, I trusted you, Aiden. Did you know you were the first guy to break my heart? All because I trusted that what I heard and what I saw was the truth. And I was so wrong.”
She felt him pull away. Not a lot, but it wasn’t hard to sense that she’d hit him where it hurt.
“I thought you’d forgiven me for that.”
“I did. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten it.”
He cursed a little, nudged her off his lap, and stood. “Really? You’re really going to bring this up again? My God, Laurel, it was high school. Get over it already. Know what I think?”
His tone both surprised and provoked her. She rubbed at her wet cheeks and lifted her chin. “What do you think, oh wise one?”
“I think you’re pulling up that old thing again because you’re scared. Today reminded you of how things went so very wrong. And then there I was. Someone you could have a real chan
ce with. Someone who was willing to go to bat for you even when you weren’t able to do it for yourself. And that scared the shit out of you because you want it and you don’t trust it. Is it me you don’t trust, Laurel, or yourself?”
“Wow. That’s ballsy, coming from you,” she snapped back. “Really, you think this is all about you?”
“I don’t know what the hell it’s about at all. If I did I wouldn’t be standing here not knowing whether I want to hold you or try to knock some sense into that thick head of yours. Don’t you get it, Laurel? I love you. Scared or not, pushing me away, falling apart in my arms … I love you. All of you. Maybe I always have, even if I haven’t always shown it in the right ways.”
It was like he’d shot her right between the eyes, she was just that stunned by his pronouncement. “No,” she whispered. “You can’t. You don’t.”
“Why? Because you say so? It doesn’t work that way. If you want to know why I spoke to Dan today, it was incredibly simple. Someone was trying to take advantage of someone I love. Someone was trying to take advantage of your good heart. And that heart should be cherished, not taken for granted.”
“Don’t,” she murmured again. Love. Not love. She wasn’t ready for love. She hadn’t even given it a thought. Panic strangled her lungs, tightened her chest. What she and Aiden had was fun. It was friendship, and some really hot sex, but it wasn’t love. Love was … indelible. Irreversible. It was the ultimate label in a relationship she wanted to keep fluid and unnamed.
All love had ever given her was a kick in the teeth.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, standing back. “Wow. That’s … wow.”
She took a moment to catch her breath before looking up into his face. “I believe you think you love me, but it’s not real, Aiden. It’s too soon. And we’ve just been having fun.”
She wished she’d looked away rather than see the hurt in his fallen expression. “I’m not trying to be cruel,” she added. “I just think that you’re caught up in, I don’t know, the newness or something. You’re not in love with me, don’t be silly.”
“Don’t be dismissive of my feelings,” he replied, the words tight. “At least respect me enough to not throw them back at me. I take it you don’t feel the same way.”
Did she? There had been moments when they’d been together that she’d been stupidly happy. But she hadn’t delved too deeply into analyzing her feelings. She hadn’t wanted to. The very concept of love was overwhelming, let alone have it be a real possibility.
“I can’t,” she answered honestly. “I am so not in that place. I thought you knew that.”
“I thought things might have changed. You know, since we started dating. Spending time together, talking, making love.” His gaze locked with hers. “Don’t deny that, either. I was there. It wasn’t just quick, meaningless sex. Not for either of us. You don’t do casual and neither do I.”
“Stop,” she said, putting her hand against her forehead. Everything was so mixed up. “You’re mad at me and I’m mad at you, and I’m pissed at Dan and so confused, and you’re just making it worse.”
“That’s me. I make things worse. Of course, maybe it’s not me. Maybe if you’d let me explain years ago things would have been different. Know why I said what I said today? Because the last time I messed up, I tried to talk to you and you wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say. I learned from that, Laurel. I wasn’t about to let you silence me again. So do with it what you will. If you don’t love me back, let’s just get it out in the open.”
Panic fluttered in her chest. He was talking about breaking things off completely. How had this even started? By her being angry he’d spoken to Dan about a stupid photograph? She couldn’t say she loved him. She knew she couldn’t. But she didn’t want to lose him, either. Which … wasn’t fair. To either of them.
“What are you going to do?”
“You mean, if you say you don’t? It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Let me tell you something, Laurel. Today is not easy for me. I’m not the guy who puts feelings into words. When I was twenty-one years old, a woman dumped me because she wanted to get married and start a family and I wasn’t ready. Know what I did? I didn’t have the courage to break up with her, so I let her ‘catch’ me fooling around with another girl at a bar. She left me just like I wanted. I was off the hook. I didn’t understand her side of things until today. Now I know how hard it is to stand in front of someone and tell them how you feel and what you want in your life, only to have them not be on the same page. I never thought I’d empathize with Erica, but there it is. Now I know how she felt.”
“M … marriage? And children?”
“I wasn’t ready. Truth was, I would never have been ready, not with her. Isn’t that just a kick in the ass?”
Because he’d been waiting for Laurel. She didn’t need to hear him say it to know that was what he meant. No, no, no.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, a horrible, heavy weight settling into her stomach. “I can’t give you what you want. I don’t believe in promises, Aiden. Or forever. I used to. I’d only hurt you in the end.”
“You’re hurting me now.”
“Better now than later, when we’ve…” Her throat tightened, preventing her from completing the sentence.
“Before we’re married, have a house, start planning a family? You don’t want to do to me what Dan did to you?”
“If he’d been honest from the start, this all might have been prevented. So I’m being honest with you now. It’s for the best.”
He gave a short laugh. “For the best. I see.”
“You don’t, but you will. I promise.”
He stood there for a few moments more, and then gave a nod. “Okay then. Right. I guess … I guess I’ll be going.”
She heard him struggle with the words and it left a bruise on her heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“Forget it,” he said. “You haven’t dealt with your divorce yet. I suspected it and let it go. Maybe once you do that, you’ll come find me again.”
He turned on his heel and left. That was it. No last plea, no last goodbye. Just walking out her door and shutting it with a quiet click. The muted sound of his truck starting up and fading as he drove away.
The house was so quiet that the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator.
Laurel got up and went to her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and threw them in the closet, stripped off the dress and left it in a heap on the floor, a minty-green confection of disappointment. She ripped the headband from her hair, pulled on an oversized T-shirt and pair of cut-off sweat shorts, and curled up on her bed.
The bed where they’d made love. Where she’d felt beautiful and strong and like she could do anything.
She knew, in all likelihood, that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.
She pulled up the blanket and cried it all out.
* * *
She hadn’t expected him to be that stubborn.
As the days passed, she kept expecting him to stop into the garden center. Drop by the house with a pizza, call her when he was off shift. There was nothing. Not a text. Not a call, not a wave as he drove by in his cruiser. Not that she could see if it was him behind the wheel from the greenhouse, but still.
Nothing.
Right now she was thinning out her carrots, a job she detested. It seemed so wasteful, somehow, pulling out the delicate stems that would be food in a matter of weeks. Yet if she didn’t thin them out, none of them would grow properly and they’d be scrawny and crammed together. With a disgusted sigh, she bent to the job once more.
Aiden was proving a point, she supposed. It drove her crazy and she admired him for it all at the same time. And maybe it was better this way anyway. She knew he was right; she hadn’t dealt with all those emotions. She’d sucked it up and pretended it didn’t matter.
And he’d said he loved her.
Ah, tha
t one stopped her up every time.
The back gate creaked and she closed her eyes. She really didn’t want company right now. “Wil, can we hang out later?” she called out. “I really want to get this done.”
“It’s not Willow,” came a familiar female voice.
Laurel turned her head. “Mom. Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?”
Her mother smiled at her, a soft, sad smile if Laurel was reading it right. “It’s Sunday night and it’s seven o’clock. You missed dinner. You didn’t answer your phone. I was worried.”
“I left my phone inside. The last time I had it in my pocket while I was gardening, I pocket-dialed Willow five times.” She stood and brushed her hands off on her jeans. “I’m sorry, Mom. I got working and forgot all about dinner.”
Her mother came closer, looked at Laurel’s face, and frowned. “Oh, sweetie. You are not happy. Does this have anything to do with Dan’s wedding? With Aiden?”
“What about Aiden?”
The words came out sharply, and a heavy silence followed in their wake.
“Something did happen, then,” her mom said. “Oh, honey.”
“I’m fine.” Laurel flashed a smile. “Dan’s wedding’s over and I’m relieved. I’ll admit it was harder than I expected, but I’m fine.”
She half-expected her mom to just let it go. They’d been close but not super-close. They’d never been the kind of mother and daughter who could read each other without speaking. But when her mom came over and took her hands, a bittersweet pang touched her heart. Sometimes a girl really did just need her mama.
“You’re not fine. Leave the carrots be for a while and come talk to me.”
“I want to get this done tonight.” She pulled her hands away, but the look aimed her way was shrewd and knowing. Her mom wasn’t going to let her off the hook.
“You’re stubborn like your father. Oh, I probably should have pushed for this conversation months ago, but I figured if you wanted to talk about it you’d come to me. Denial is more than a river in Egypt, you know.”
