“He was being an arse today, and he knows it. None of that was about you.”
“I felt it, the disconnect. He is running on guilt and not just over Sylvie, but over Celeste.” Logical reactions, for someone who puts everything on his shoulders. I should know; I do it too.
“Yeah. Give him some time,” Aiden defends, trying to smooth things between Dax and me.
“I don’t want to talk about him. I’m thanking you. Dinner was delicious. I’m glad one of us can cook worth a damn, and this—”I gesture to the rooftop and the surrounding view, “is just what I needed.”
“What we both needed.”
“I bet.” Honestly, I can’t even imagine how Aiden’s job impacts his life. Exhaustion, anxiety, fear, frustration, anger; how often do they overwhelm him? How often does it all overshadow the hope that he can win this war?
Aiden kisses the back of my hand, then unlinks his fingers and sits up straight. “I have one more surprise for you. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I think it might help put your mind at rest.” His voice is quiet; I can sense his hesitation and recognise he’s offering me something he’s not sure he should.
“What?”
“I’ve had a report on your family,” he begins. I rocket forward in my seat, panic gripping my throat until he rushes out his next sentence to calm me. “They’re doing well. The kids are booked for therapy twice a week. Carlo has started working as a manager at the local bar, and your mother works with him when she’s not with the kids.”
My relief is physical. My shoulders sink and my lungs release the air they were holding hostage. “Are they happy?” I ask, knowing the answer will be bittersweet.
“They’re getting there. They miss you, but they’re settling in,” Aiden replies, clearly sensitive to my fears.
“Good. I’m glad they’re okay.” My response it automatic and lacks feeling. Something that surprises me because I sincerely think I mean it until I say it aloud and hear my own lie.
Aiden notices too. “Are you?”
I analyse the feeling. I’m glad they are safe, the kids more than anything else, but I have very little care for Mum or Carlo. Okay though? Do I want them to be okay without me? I’m selfish enough to admit I don’t. I want them to miss me. I want the kids to give them a hard time. I want them to ask for me all the time as if I’mtheir mother, as though they need me more than they’ll ever need them.Because I was always there.I was the parent they knew and relied on. Why should they get to play happy families when I’m the one who suffered and did all the work? I take a deep breath. Why do things have to be so mixed up all the time? Why are feelings so damn complicated? I bring myself back to Aiden’s question. Am I glad they’re okay? I answer honestly. “No, but I will be.”
“It must be hard not seeing them. The kids, I mean.”
“You have no idea. I practically raised them between school and work. Some days I had to take them to class with me. Those days were the easiest. I knew where they were; I knew they were looked after, fed, clean, safe. I never once cared about the looks I’d get for trailing two toddlers and a baby around with me. As long as they were happy, it didn’t matter.” I take a deep and shaky breath. “They took my everything with them when they left. I should be happy that they’re safe and protected with Carlo, but my heart is torn in two.” I choke the last word out around the lump forming in my throat. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t seem to help it.
“You’ve been an amazing sister and an amazing parent to those three kids. I could see it from the second I met them and watched you with them. The fact that they survived that house and everything Eric has done is testament to your hard work and protection. You shouldn’t regret any of it. Just think of this as getting a littleyou-timeto straighten all the shit out before you return to them. They’ll be there waiting for you for as long as you need.
I hiccup another sob and give up trying to say thank you again, nodding instead. He’s right. I’m no good to my family or anyone with a target on my back.
The air chills around us, and I pull the woollen blanket draped over the back of my chair around my shoulders.
“We should head back inside,” Aiden suggests, catching my shiver.
“We don’t have to rush.”
“How about I take the dishes downstairs and load up the dishwasher? You take as much time as you need. I’ll come back up for you if you’re not down by the time I’m done. Sound good?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Aiden.”
“You’re welcome, Tiger.”
He piles the plates high and clears the table in one pass, leaving me to my thoughts. We both know he’s giving me the space I needed to cry or straighten out my head. Only with everything we’ve just said, I’m all cried out. Sure, I have worries coming out of my ears and will for a while yet, Dax’s recent coldness being a part of that no matter how logically I dismissed it earlier, but for now I feel secure. On steady ground. Ironic then that I’m sat on the edge of a roof overlooking the fall.
I think of my grandmother and her smile as she would dust off my knees and explain to me, “It’s okay to fall. It’s how you get back up that matters.”
I think of all the ways I’m already in freefall and wonder if it will hurt when I eventually land. Fear, loss, isolation…love.
I’ve felt all those other things before. I’ve crashed-landed and stood up over and over again, but I’ve never allowed myself to feel anything more than wary respect for anyone outside of those three kids. These newly blossoming feelings for Dax and Aiden scare me more than all the crap I’ve been through. After all, how do you come back from love? How do you pick yourself up after losing your heart?
Funny, I’m trying not to give into it fully, and yet I’m sure that love is the fall that will hurt the most.
Chapter Thirteen
