Page 79

“I’m going on a trip with him this weekend. Maybe you can talk things over while I’m gone.” I clear my throat, feeling awkward about using Aaron in this way but knowing I have his blessing. “Aaron will be monitoring my schedule to make sure I’m not overloaded. I’m not good at noticing it myself. So please make sure whatever you come up with is balanced.”

I bring my dish to the sink, then race up the stairs so I can overthink every word I just said.

They don’t address the conversation with me for the rest of the week. But my daily to-do list gets noticeably shorter over the next couple of days, and one evening, I find my parents hunched over a spreadsheet on Dad’s laptop.

Maybe they’ll abide by my rules for a couple of weeks and then subconsciously wane away from them. Maybe I’ll even let them without noticing. I’m used to heaviness on my shoulders, but that’s why I have Aaron. I’ve given him permission to ask me every morning about my tasks. I don’t know how well this is going to work.

What I do know is that it’s a start.

“Riley.”

I’m on my way to Aaron’s truck with my suitcase when the voice at my back startles me. Aaron is standing near the passenger door, ever the gentleman. His souring expression tells me exactly who’s approaching behind me. I turn and find Logan on the driveway.

“I wanted to see you off,” he mumbles. “I hope you have fun. You deserve a trip.”

I pinch my brows, wondering why he’s decided now to talk to me after so many days of radio silence. “Thanks,” I say, starting back to the truck, but Logan snags my wrist, tugging me to a stop.

“Why just him?” he asks.

I stare at him in perplexity. “What?”

“You…you forgave Aaron.” He snaps his hand to his side when he notices Aaron step forward. His scruff has grown longer, but it’s patchy and uneven—he hasn’t been properly grooming it. “Why did you let him get away with doing what he did, but not me?”

I sigh, kneading the bridge of my nose. “Forgiving someone isn’t letting them get away with something,” I say with a sharp look. “Aaron proves himself every day. He can grow from this. Besides, what he did is different.”

“How?” he asks desperately. “We hid the same information from you.”

“He hid it because he didn’t want to hurt or lose me,” I say, holding a palm up to keep Aaron from striding toward us. This won’t take long. “You hid it to protect your ego. Not only that, but you chose not to save me from Aaron’s plan. You got lucky he didn’t go through with it.”

“I know, but…” Logan pulls at his fingers, clearly noticing that I’m on the brink of walking away. “What more can I do for your forgiveness?”

I consider it. I can’t say I haven’t forgiven him. Rather, I just don’t care to hold grudges or cling to people’s bad actions. Even so, I haven’t felt any desire to talk to him. “I don’t know,” I admit.

“There has to be something,” he pleads.

“Maybe. It shouldn’t be my job to find it for you.” I turn my back to him with a half-hearted wave. “Make an effort beyond a verbal apology and see where it takes you.”

I drag my suitcase down the driveway, leaving him watching in dismay. The moment I’m within range, Aaron reaches out, his palms unfurling around my face. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

“I’m fine.” I tilt my head and kiss the outer edge of his thumb. “Let’s not talk about it. I won’t let him ruin the day.”

Aaron gives me an uneasy look but nods, loading my luggage into the back seat. Within the minute, we’re taking off. The farther we get from home, the higher my excitement mounts.

Chicago.

Aaron booked a long weekend for us in the heart of the city as a “part two” of his apology. To which I bitterly asked if he intended to buy my complete forgiveness, and he floundered until I laughed and kissed him. It’s a three-hour drive, and my backpack is stocked with gluten-free snacks.

“I’m surprised you’ve never been there,” Aaron says as we merge onto the highway, casting me a curious glance. “It’s within driving distance. Did you ever consider asking for it as a present?”

“I wanted to wait until I could go with someone who cares about history.” I smile playfully. “Or someone who pretends to care.”

“I do care!” he says, though he’s clearly pleased that I find him to be a worthy partner for exploration. “Or I care about you. I care that you care. So it’s basically the same thing.”

“Sure,” I say, reaching over to fluff up his curly tips. He’s wearing gray cargo shorts and a navy-blue button-down. It’s no periwinkle, but I appreciate the effort. “Thank you in advance for letting me yap your ear off.”

“Of course. We could’ve gone sooner, but…” Aaron sighs with melancholy. “You had to make me plan in advance.”

“We can’t show up to a major city without a booking or itinerary,” I snap.