Still oblivious to me, he let out a frustrated sigh that echoed off the tiles. He cupped his hands under the tap, water sloshing around the porcelain as he splashed some onto his face before the whole routine started again. His hands went back to the sink, he bent forward, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes screwed shut.
I counted with him this time. He probably couldn’t hear the click of my heels over the water gushing from the tap. I gnawed on my lip. I didn’t want to scare him. Should I call out again? I didn’t. But should I have?
Even though I didn’t know the secret buttons that sent Aiden spiralling to his unknown hell, and even though I crossed the tiles on timid feet, I never felt like I walked on eggshells like when I’d lived with Chris. Anything and everything had flipped Chris’s switch. What happened to Aiden was different. Whatever darkness swallowed him up, he fought it every step of the way.
Beside him, still unnoticed, I touched his back. “Aiden?”
His head jerked up. “Lola—what? Why are you…?” Wild eyes darted everywhere like he wasn’t sure where to look. “This is themen’sroom.”
I waved him off with a smile and leant my hip against the basin. “This is what I do… Hanging out in bathrooms… Saving the day.” I twisted off the tap with a flourish and a sillyta-da. “Would you look at that? I’m kicking more superhero goals.”
Relief fluttered in my chest when Aiden smiled. It was only the hint of a smile, but I’d take it. It meant he’d taken one step further away from the edge of his dark abyss.
My eyes wandered around the bathroom. No answers there. Hints of past visitors stained the floor around the urinals. And what on earth was that smell?
I scrunched my nose. “The men’s bathroom is kinda gross.”
“Kinda?” Aiden’s face cracked in a genuine smile. “Try all kindas.”
My heart fluttered to see some of the hard edges of his face soften. There he was. Grumpy but talking.
What now?
I’d had my own lonely moment like this in a public bathroom. When my world had been crumbling around me, a kind stranger offered her help. What had she said to me?I know you’ll find your strength one day.I had. It had taken me months and so many doubts and false starts, but I’d found the courage all by myself. How much easier would it have been with someone by my side?
“You hit a bit of a wall back there,” I said.
“Lola, I’m sorry.” Haunted grey eyes lifted to meet mine. “I already broke our promise.”
“What happened out there wasn’t you running away from a tough conversation. Something bigger was going on.” I stroked the silver hairs around his temples. “Up here.”
Aiden’s head dropped. My heart was an empty echo in my chest. Was he going to shut down again? Storm off? Tell me to take the hint like he’d done outside the coffee shop all those weeks ago?
His voice low and uncertain, he kept talking. He kepttrying. “I panicked. I don’t let Ruth or Harry see this side of me—especially after everything Harry went through growing up. The few times something’s happened that I haven’t been able tocontrol, he’s chalked it up to me being a grumpy bastard. I guess I am.” Aiden lifted a shoulder. “You’re the only one who’s seen…anything. And… Lola… I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that you had to see me like that. I’m usually more careful. I’ve figured out how to manage it over the years.”
Years?
I blinked back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Aiden had been dealing with these panic attacks foryears? And all by himself? He was so close to Ruth… Why couldn’t he let her see? He must have felt so…alone.
“I have a routine.” Aiden rushed on, as if he needed my approval to confirm that he was doing the right thing. “I keep the flashbacks under control. I can stop them before they start.” His sigh was defeated. “Most of the time.”
“Have you talked to someone about this?”
“Sure. A whole group of doctors tried fixing me. They couldn’t wait to write down a diagnosis. Six men in suits sitting on a panel read it out to me before they ended my career. Everything I ever worked for.” His laugh was bitter. “They took my whole identity with the swipe of a damn pen.”
“Are you comfortable sharing your diagnosis with me?”
His head bowed. The silence stretched on and on. “PTSD.”
My chest caved in. Post-traumatic stress disorder was a serious condition. Flashbacks. Nightmares. Uncontrollable anxiety. Police officers were prone to it. Had he suffered from his work? Something else? I couldn’t imagine the horrifying things he must have lived through for his mind to splinter into a world so dark.
“Oh, Aiden—”
“Don’t you dare pity me.”
“I care about you. Iworryabout you. Have the flashbacks been getting worse lately? Like the day at the clinic? Was that your worst episode?”
“No.” Aiden wouldn’t meet my gaze. Even a hesitant touch to his shoulder didn’t help ease the tension holding him together this time. “That…wasn’t the worst…”
