Authors: Stacey Lynn
His to Cherish (19 page)
Dropping my fingers from my temples, I braced both hands on the edge of my desk to stand up and get to work.
My vision blurred and I swayed on my feet when I saw him.
How I didn't sense him first, like I'd done in the past, I had no clue, but standing just inside the doors to the library, an orange visitor badge on his chest that all visitors had to wear, was Aidan.
I gasped and my eyes darted to the wall of windows behind him that separated us from the throng of students making their way to their afternoon classes. My pulse began thrumming in my already painful temples and my fingers curled around the laminate edge of my desk.
What was he doing here?
As if he sensed my unasked question, he began walking toward me.
I looked behind me, searching for a way out. This was not the time or the place. And why in the hell was he at my
job
? I quickly turned to face him, irritated by his presence.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes quickly scanning the room as he came closer to my desk. His hands were in the front pockets of his worn jeans and his hair was a mess, like he'd been running his fingers through it all day.
“What are you doing here?” I seethed, leaning toward him instead of backing away.
He licked his lips and I couldn't help but watch his tongue dart out.
“You haven't been home.” His voice was uncertain and I wanted to shake him. “And you haven't returned my calls.”
His hand went to his hair.
My eyebrows pulled together. “Because I don't want to talk to you.”
“I know.” He nodded. “And I don't blame you, but I've also been worried about you and I'd like to explain.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw three eighth-grade girls carrying large stacks of books in their arms barrel through the door, their voices instantly quieting as they chattered excitedly.
“I can't do this here. And you shouldn't have come.”
“I know that,” he snapped, clearly frustrated with me. “But you haven't been at your house. Please, Chelsea, just hear me out.”
“Not here,” I relented before I realized I was saying it.
A small grin of satisfaction, or maybe hope, appeared on his face. That familiar warm flutter was back in my stomach and I hated it.
My body was betraying me even as I tried to cling to my anger and pain.
Yet he looked so upset, so bothered, that I felt my heart giving in to him.
Damn it. I was way too freaking nice.
“Later,” I conceded, my voice soft and hesitant.
“I'll be here after school to get you.”
I frowned, but he didn't give me a chance to argue.
“I'm not giving you time to change your mind. This week has been killing me, knowing that I hurt you. Just let me beg for your forgiveness, and if you don't want anything to do with me when I'm done, I'll leave you alone.”
My heart constricted at the thought.
“Fine.” I swallowed a thick lump in my throat. “After school.”
He lowered his voice and leaned in. “Thank you. And I'm so sorry I hurt you. You're not
nobody,
Chelsea. I've been kicking myself every day for that night, wanting to make it right. Thank you for giving me this.”
My eyes began to burn with tears. He looked so wrecked. The heavy creases that had lined his forehead after Derrick's death, but had begun softening in recent weeks, were back. Purple bags lined his eyes. He lookedâ¦exhausted.
That familiar pull to comfort him flooded my heart.
And damn it. He'd just apologized. I
wanted
to forgive him.
“I'll see you later,” I told him, looking away before he saw that forgiveness was already blossoming in my heart, that I wanted to pull him toward me and wrap my arms around him. But this was the second time he'd hurt me, and while I could forgive him the first, this last one cut deep, even with the apology.
“Thank you, Chelsea.”
When I turned my back to him, my hands were shaking as I gripped the metal book return cart. I heard him let out a deep breath and then soft footsteps walking away from me.
When the final bell rang, and the sounds of footsteps and escalated voices signaling students were excited for the weekend dulled and quiet reigned inside the library, I found myself both frantic to leave and wishing I could stay within the confines of my safe haven.
Aidan was waiting for me outside.
I knew he was with the certainty that I knew, around him, I was weak. I knew because the intensity in his eyes that I hadn't been able to erase from my mind guaranteed we were going to have the conversation he wanted to have, whether I wanted it or not.
I was going to have to stay strong. To do the right thing despite wanting to throw my arms around him and pretend we could have a relationship. We couldn't. There was no way he was ready, and I didn't blame him, but in reality, he needed a friend more than he needed any further emotional entanglements.
And while my body still remembered his touch, I was not a crutch, nor did I want to become one. I was worth more than that. I deserved to be loved as I loved him.
Despite knowing it was the right thing, there was also still a fear in me that said when he listened to what I had to say, regardless of his reasons and excuses, he would realize that I wasn't worth the time or the effort.
That once he became accustomed to the quiet in his house, the existence he had to find without his son, that he'd deem it unnecessary to be linked to me.
And that hurt most of all.
But while I was not a crutch, I was also not a coward, even though I wished in this moment I could be. That I could hide beneath my library desk, waiting for dusk to fall and for Aidan to become bored or angry that I'd ditched him.
However, that wasn't me.
With slow footsteps, I exited the school, slinging my messenger bag over one shoulder. My purse was held in my right hand, my keys in my left just in case all I was certain of proved me the fool again.
My heels clicked on the pavement and I took a brief moment to tilt my head back and warm my clammy skin with the heat from the sun in the cloudless sky before continuing down the walkway that would take me to the teachers' parking lot.
His black truck was pulled up directly next to my small Nissan. I smirked, and shook my head when I saw it, unable to hide my reaction to the idea that he was so nervous I would follow my earlier thoughts and run from him that he felt the need to park directly next to my carâ¦so close that I couldn't open my door without him first moving the truck.
I fought the tug of a grin that wanted to form.
Aidan stood next to the driver's side of his truck, hip resting on the door, one arm slung over his side-view mirror. His sunglasses covered his eyes, blanking out any expression I could hope to find in his vibrant green eyes.
“You came,” he said as I met him several feet away. It was three feet too far and too close at the same time.
I hated my innate reaction to him. The one that made me want to lean into his embrace and purr, allowing his physical strength to wash away my fears.
My eyes flickered to my car. “Not that I can flee.”
His face stayed fixed on mine and I assumed his eyes did as well. “This is too important to give you the chance.” He nodded toward the fields behind the school. “Walk with me?”
“Sure.”
He paused long enough for me to unlock my car and throw my purse and bag into my trunk, and then with his hands stuffed into his pockets, he walked next to me, silent, until we were at the football field behind the school.
Baseball practice was going on next to the football fields and I could hear the constant clatter of metal bats hitting balls, and the shouts of coaches encouraging players.
On the football field and the surrounding running track, the same shouts were occurring but louder, as the track coaches and runners prepared for a meet they had the next day.
As I followed Aidan up the stands of the football field, I could only think about what we were doing, and why he was bringing me here.
Once we were settled in the top row, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and tucked my hands into my sides.
“Cold?”
“No.” Nervous. Scared. Protecting myself. I was all of those things, but with the sunshine warming my skin, I was anything but cold.
I watched a group of boys practice baton handoffs for a four-by-one-hundred-meter relay while the thick silence between us grew even more strained.
While I waited for him to speak first, I could feel his eyes on me, watching me watch the kids, and I knew I had a soft smile on my face, because I adored these kids. Kids who thought they were older than they were, but were too young to be adults. I watched them struggle to find themselves every day, to resist peer pressure, to deal with the schoolwork that became harder and more stressful.
My heart ached knowing that so many of these kids would go through such difficult times, and I longed to reach them in some way, in any way I could while I had contact with them. But my impression of them was fleeting because with my job, I didn't have the chance to know any of them incredibly wellânot as well as their teachers, anyway.
“It's hard to believe,” Aidan said, now looking down at the field, “that I was just a few years older than these boys when I became a dad.”
That tightening in my chest whenever Aidan talked about Derrick constricted my breathing.
I bit my lip to stay silent.
“It was hard, you know, being so young and having a kid. Mandy and I were doing bottle feedings and changing diapers in the middle of the night while our friends were drinking beer for the first time.” He sighed, and his head fell forward. He shook it slowly as if clearing his mind. “I wouldn't trade it, though, not any of it, even if this is how it ended.”
The strain in his voice was thick, and my hands balled into fists, wanting to reach out to him and comfort him like I always did.
“Mandy's parents kicked her out when they found out she was pregnant. She moved in with my dad and me, but I think it was hard for her to be so young, only sixteen years old, and not have her own mom around to help her. It doesn't excuse the fact she left us, but looking back, getting pregnant caused Mandy to lose everything.” He stopped and ran his hands through his hair. “I don't think she was ever able to understand all that she gained as well.”
I flexed my fingers trying to lose the tension building in my veins as my pulse thudded in my ears.
“Why are you telling me this?”
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair again and looked up at the sky, exhaling a deep breath. “Because for the first few years after she left, when I was trying to take care of Derrick, go to college, and help my dad with his company, she came back more frequently. And every time she did, if there was any girl aroundâwhich didn't happen often considering I didn't have timeâshe made my life, Derrick's life, and the girl's life hell until the girl eventually left. The first time, she left the girl threatening notes on her car after Mandy had seen her leave my apartment. The second time, she ruined a date by showing up in the middle of it, crying and claiming I never let her see Derrick. The third timeâ”
I flicked my hand up, stopping him. “I get it,” I whispered.
He shifted on the bench until he was straddling the metal and his thighs were on either side of my back and my knees. He reached out and took my hand, holding it between both of his.
“Mandy has never grown up, Chelsea. She still thinks she has some claim on me because of Derrick, even though she's been dating ever since we broke up. I think she struggles with the guilt of leaving when he was so young, but is still trying to find something to replace the family she lost. I don't know.” He shook his head again, exasperated. “I don't even care anymore except that I know if I hadn't said anything that night, she would have made things difficult for you.”
“Me?” I choked. Images of keyed cars, egged houses, blood spilled on my front step flashed through my mind. Was she crazy?
“If Mandy would have had any idea you meant something to me, she would have stuck around longer and not left until she'd managed to push you away.”
My back straightened. “So the smarter thing was to do it yourself.”
“No, damn it. That's not what I meant to do and I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry I said that about you. It's the furthest thing from the truth.”
His honesty didn't quell the pain I still felt. The lingering echoes of hearing I was nobody had opened wounds I had thought were long since healed.
“It hurt,” I whispered, too afraid to speak louder for fear he'd hear all the fears I truly had. “When Cory left me, he called me worthless. Said I was only half a woman because I couldn't give him kids. I know that's not true, but I can't be with someone who thinks talking about me like that is okay, regardless of the reason.”
I stood up and he let my hand fall from his.
“I need to go. I appreciate the apology, but I'm not sure it changes anything.”
I turned my back, shuffling down the bleachers until I got to the stairway. I wasn't far from him when Aidan called my name. I hesitated, my eyes on the field, the distance, and my freedom from this painful conversation. Then I turned and faced himâone last time.
“I cleaned out Derrick's room the other day.”
I frowned, not understanding. Aidan stood and I saw his hands shaking slightly as he moved toward me, silky and smooth like an elegant panther.
My pulse sped.
“You were right, you know,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. “I didn't know it at the time, but a part of me was using you to keep from having to deal with Derrick's death.”
I flinched when his hand gripped mine again, this time tight and firm, strong and warm. There was no hint he was prepared to let me go again.
“I kept telling you that you helped, and you didâ¦you
do.
But with the time I spent with you, I've been able to avoid having to think about Derrick and what my life will be like without him.”
My hand squeezed his. It was a reflex, but the longing to comfort him was back tenfold. As he stood in front of me, the sun shining on his face and in his eyes now that he'd removed his sunglasses, I could see his truth and his pain and the fact that he looked like complete and utter shit.
It'd been a long week for him, and I had a sense it wasn't just because he regretted the painful words he'd slung in my direction last week.
“Aidanâ” I started, but he cut me off.
“I took Mandy to the cemetery.”
Oh. I closed my eyes, sadness filling my pores. My chin wobbled. I hated that he'd had to go there, that he'd had to explain everything to her. Most of all, I hated that I hadn't been able to be there for him.
Damn it. I still loved him.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.” He lifted a hand and reached up, pressing his thumb to my chin until I was forced to look directly into his eyes. “It was good, I think. I hadn't been back, and while it completely sucked to take Mandy, to show her, and tell her what happened, I think it helped. Anyway, I've spent the week cleaning out his room, visiting Shane. I'm a wreck, Chelsea. I know I am, and I have a long way to go, but there was one thing I kept thinking the entire time I was working.”
The way he looked at me made it clear what that thought was. My skin heated in response when his hand moved from my chin to my cheek, his thumb brushing along my skin.
“Are you going to ask me what I was thinking?”
I licked my lips. My heart fluttered inside my chest, butterflies flapped in my stomach, and my whole body was buzzing with the adrenaline that always flowed when he stood so close to me. Touching me made it worse.
“I was thinking,” he whispered, his voice rough and slightly wobbly, “it would have been so much easier if you were there, helping me.”
“I'm sorry I wasn't.”
He was closer now, our bodies almost touching and our breath mingling in the small space between our lips. My eyes darted to the track below us to check that no one was paying attention to us. But that didn't mean we should be here.
I leaned back.
Aidan smiled fleetingly, as if he knew why, but his hand pressed more firmly against my cheek, holding my attention.
“I know you are, and you would have been able to help me through it. But I had to do it on my own, to know that I could. Even though I wanted to call you every hour of every day and demand that you help me, or demand that you go home so I didn't have to deal with it at all. But that isn't fair to you, and I won't do that to you anymore.”
My brow creased at the admission. I slid my eyes away, this time in pain, because how could he do this? How could he touch me in a way that said he wanted me but with his words tell me he didn't?
“Chelsea,” he said, bringing my attention back to him. “I've done this all wrong with you.”
I swallowed a knot in my throat, pain lancing my heart at his words.
“I haven't even taken you on a proper date yet.”
Wait. “What?” My eyes widened.
A slight quirk of his lips, a crinkling around his eyes, and suddenly, for the first time since I'd been around Aidan, he seemed playfulâ¦happy, almost.
“I know. I've totally messed this up and I intend to correct that, if you're willing to give me a chance.”
“But you just said you didn't want to be with me anymore.”
“No, I said I didn't want to use you anymore so I could avoid reality. Now I'd like to be able to enjoy you.”
The words flew through my body and made my stomach flip in the best way possible.
“I don't know.” This new happy but tired Aidan was appealing, but my heart was at risk again and I wasn't sure I was ready to hand it over.
“Let me take you out on a date, Chelsea. I want to pick you up and bring you flowers. I want to go out and not care about the looks I get from everyone, pitying the dad who lost his kid. I want you to watch football with me and pretend you enjoy it because you know Derrick and I used to do it together. I want to be able to talk to you about him, have you laugh with me as I remember him.”
