And then I’d smile.
Good.
Quiet rage burned inside me so fiercely I balled my fist.
Good!
Aiden stared down at me. I glared straight back. Only a few feet separated us, but the space yawned wider than a canyon. People darted through the gap. I didn’t see them. Only him. His eyebrows furrowed, but those grey eyes stayed locked on mine, even as his lips disappeared into a scowl hidden by his beard.
Would he say something? Did I want him to? An apology? An explanation? If he fell to his knees and pleaded for my forgiveness, would my resolve weaken?
No.
This moment was bound to happen. Richmond was a small town. Leading up to the night we’d spent together, we’d bumped into each other everywhere. After that night, we would too. It was inevitable.
I pressed my fist into my chest. The emptiness inside me still echoed.
But Aiden never had my heart. We were never…anything. I’d had a crush on a handsome man who’d opened the car door for me and left me a few thoughtful gifts. Two lonely people could have sex, and it only be about…sex. If he’d been honest about us only being a one-time thing, I would’ve cried, but I would’ve been okay.
No, the sting in my chest wasn’t heartbreak. It was humiliation. It was the shame of allowing myself to fall into the same tired patterns of desperately wanting to love someone and hoping that maybe, just maybe, they might love me back.
Outside the coffee shop, at the bar, Aiden had turned his back on me.
This time was different.
This time, I refused to hide. Chris had kept me locked away from the world and stolen years from me. I’d learned my lesson. I’d fought for a new life. And I’d keep fighting.
I never gave Aiden the satisfaction of seeing any more weakness. The timid mouse was gone. I squared my shoulders like him, lifted my chin, and spun on my heel with all the defiance of a wild mare.
This time, I turned my back on him.
12
He Saw His Only Chance
Aiden
My boot had barelytouched the bottom step when Ruth’s front door swung open.
“About time you got here,” she said.
“I’m five minutes early.” I kept heading up but then paused, my foot hovering above the next step. Ruth’s smile was big.Toobig. “What’s going on?” My final steps were cautious.
“Oh, nothing,” she sang, twirling her cane before floating inside.
My eyes slitted. “Is anyone else coming for lunch today?”
“Nope. It’s just you and me, big guy.”
Relief deflated my chest. Ruth had an unfortunate habit of thinking she knew what was best for me. For one agonising second, I’d expected to stoop through the front door and see Lola waiting on the other side. Nothing could prepare me for that. A week ago, her blue eyes had stared up at me, a sigh on her lips,welcoming me inside her. Today, the same woman had turned her back on me with unrestrained anger.
But even though Ruth’s living room was empty, my eyes widened. “Hey.” I nodded at the crooked line of watercolour canvases on the back wall. “You finally hung up some of your landscapes.”
“Yeah, I put them up last night.” Ruth lifted her good shoulder. “Life’s been feeling… I don’t know… Kind of different lately. It got me thinking about what you said. The house probably does need a bit more colour.”
She made it sound like the paintings were no big deal. It was. But her eyes didn’t linger on the watercolours as mine did, and her unsteady steps disappeared into the kitchen. My gaze flicked back to the wall.
Despite the new splashes of colour, a hush settled over the house when Ruth stepped out of the room. It wasn’t like her old place on the mainland, where every wall had hummed with life—ribbons and trophies from her equestrian days, Matthew’s swimming medals gleaming in neat rows, framed glimpses of horses, and the smiles they wore when they got engaged and said, “I do.”
