Page 90 of Miss Typed

After hanging up with Reid, I was tempted to call Chloe. She’d probably be awake by now. But after the way I’d hurt her last night, I knew I couldn’t talk to her. So instead I typed up an email to let her know I’d been obliged to leave early because of a meeting in Dubai and that I would be out of the office for the rest of the week. The last thing I wanted was for her to dread coming into her job because she had to see me. It would be better if I left the country as soon as possible, and let her get on with her life.

At least that’s what I told my heart.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chloe

He didn’t love me. The memory of his words echoed in my head, threatening to set off a new round of tears as I got ready to leave Abu Dhabi the next morning. I cried until there were no more tears to cry, an action which created horribly puffy eyes. A cold washcloth and makeup helped, but it was what it was.

Thankfully, I pulled myself together enough that I could get into the back of the sedan without crying again because he’d taken off without me this morning. Such a lame excuse about a morning meeting. Why lie? Then again, if there was one thing I’d learned, it’s how far he’d go to spare awkwardness. Or to protect me as he had in Toronto. Or, crap, to push me away because he truly did believe I was better off without him.

Either I was grasping at straws, or I was onto something. Only one way to find out. I had to channel my inner tiger and confront him. I instructed the driver to drop me off at Aiden’s apartment building instead of at the office. I wasn’t certain he’d be home after eleven in the morning, but I had a gut feeling.

My feeling was confirmed when Reid opened Aiden’s door.

He looked shocked to see me. “You’re not pizza.”

“Nope. Afraid not.” I shifted my attention beyond him to Aiden who’d stood up from the sofa. “Do you mind giving us a minute, Reid?”

“Nope. I’ll even intercept the pizza guy, so you’re not interrupted.”

I didn’t miss the way Aiden frowned at his friend’s escape.

I took out my phone and typed a text message, the four words, “Aiden is a pussy.” I then waited for the ding from his phone.

He cocked his head to the side, picking it up from the coffee table and arching a brow.

“Thought I made it clear. If you ever called me a pussy, you should do it to my face.”

“I would’ve this morning if you hadn’t snuck off.”

His temple throbbed. “Do it now.”

I didn’t hesitate. “You’re a pussy.”

“Because?”

Now or never. “Because you do love me. That’s why you’re pushing me away. Somehow, you have in your head that I’m better off without you.”

He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand, stepping closer to him. “You’re scared.”

“I’ve never been scared.”

“Bullshit. You’re scared to let me in.”

Jaw tick.

“And it’s okay to be scared. Because I’m scared, too. It’s what love is. Terrified hope and belief in another person without any guarantee they may feel the same way. I love you, Aiden. And I’m taking a chance because I don’t want to give up on us.”

He swallowed hard. “Even if that were true, you deserve someone better, Chloe.”

“You mean someone with two legs, right?”

It was a direct hit as evidenced by his pained expression.

“And because he has two legs, he’s what—going to treat me better? He’ll love me more? He’ll be a better man?”

“Yes. He won’t have a disability holding him back, and therefore holding you back. He can go ice-skating, skiing, rock climbing, sledding, waterskiing, and take off his shoes to tour a fucking mosque, and anything else you might want to do. You were looking forward to the tour, but the moment you realized I couldn’t go in, you were willing to give it up. What would you give up next? I couldn’t live with myself, knowing I was holding you back.”