With our coffees in hand, we wandered side by side to the table in the back. I dropped into the chair by the window. Aiden collapsed into the one beside me. Even slumped over, he still looked comically oversized at the tiny café table. His big hand covered his face in another yawn.
I slid his coffee closer to him. “Didn’t get much sleep while you were in Hobart?”
“Not a wink,” Aiden grumbled.
“Were you worried about your appointment with the psychiatrist?”
“No.” Another tired grumble. “My problem was Harry.” He threw a helpless look over the rim of his cup. “That’s the last time I let him tag along. He kept me up all night.”
“Does he snore?”
“I wish. There wasn’t much sleeping going on. He was like a twelve-year-old at his first slumber party. He gushed about Brooke for hours. Do I need to spend half the night figuring out if she likes macaroni? Yes. I do.”
I laughed. “I think it’s sweet how Harry is completely gaga over Brooke.”
Aiden grunted. “You wouldn’t think it was so sweet if his phone was shoved in your face at one in the morning. He blathered on and on about rings. Rubies or garnets. Princess cut or oval cut. I make furniture. What the hell do I know about jewellery?”
I sipped my coffee, careful to keep my face neutral even though I wanted to squeal.Rings!“Is Harry…?” I froze. Surely not. “It’s way too soon!”
“It is.” Aiden’s smile turned coy. “You know nothing.”
I pretended to zip my lips shut, but I wriggled in my seat, too much excitement bubbling in my veins.
Aiden’s eyebrow arched. “Can you keep a secret, Lola?”
“Yes.” A grin escaped. “Okay, no.” I laughed. “I willtry. Promise.” I zipped my lips again.
Aiden flashed a smile, but it faded quickly. His finger traced the rim of his cup, and he sat silent, lost in his thoughts. It was a long time before he spoke again.
“My, um, appointment,” he said. “I think it went well.”
“So, the psychiatrist we found turned out to be okay?”
“Yeah, I think he’s a good fit for me. He sees a lot of ex-cops and return veterans. The appointment was long. The shrink asked a lot of questions. Some of the questions… Yeah.” His eyes lowered to his cup and stayed there. “Going back over old ground was harder than I thought.”
“It would’ve been difficult to open up about what you’ve been through.”
“It was. You’ve been seeing someone, too, though. It gets easier, right?”
“It does. The first few appointments I had were hard, but now it’s like catching up with a friend who’s a great listener. No judgement, just help. Take it slow and remember to be kind to yourself all the days in between.” I sipped my coffee. “Will you keep going?”
He nodded. “Once a month in the city and on the phone the other weeks. I’m trying to be realistic. I know I’ll never be a hundred percent. I doubt I was before the accident, either, but I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay. I want to get better.”
“I’m so incredibly proud of you.”
Aiden tried to shrug off the compliment, ducking his head so I wouldn’t see the rosy hint on his cheeks. Too late. I saw it—and his red ears, too. Ruth had told me to look out for those.
“So, uh…” Aiden cleared his throat. “How have you been? How’s the book going?”
My shoulders scrunched up to my ears. “I finished it last night.”
“Already? It’s a solid effort to get throughThe Count of Monte Cristothat quickly.”
“Oh, Aiden, I couldn’t put it down! I was hooked when I read the first page. I barely moved off my couch all weekend.” Aiden’s soft smile only encouraged me to gush even more. “How had I never read it before? How did I exist in the world before I knew Dantès and Faria? It was the most perfect of all perfect books. Thank you so much for letting me borrow it.”
“Thank you so much for reading it. I’m glad you liked it.”
I grinned over the top of my coffee. “What if I’d hated it?”
