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Aiden’s mouth formed an “O” of surprise for a split second before his eyes settled on the paper once again. “It was my brother,” he said, clearing his throat. “My little brother, Danny. The one who drowned. He was… he was twelve when…”
Aiden fell silent for a moment as he tried to get control of himself. “I… I just can’t tell you how much this means to me, Ash. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” His voice was thick and I could see the truth of his words in his eyes when he once again lifted them. The knowledge that it had been his brother lost to the water was crushing.
“You’re welcome,” I said, trying to figure out how to keep from throwing myself into his arms to hug him to death and tell him how sorry I was. “I’m really glad you like it. I just wanted to do a little something to thank you. And please, ah, tell Lucky thanks, too. He’s a good kid.”
Aiden smiled and shook his head. “He’s a nut. But, yeah. He’s a great kid. And he has great fathers. I’d love for you to meet Bennett and Xander.”
What? No way, I couldn’t do that.
Could I?
That would be way too personal… meeting his friends. That was something that guys who were dating did.
Right?
God, I was so fucking clueless. I glanced at Aiden and saw him watching me patiently. I had no doubt he knew exactly what was going through my head. I tapped my fingers on the table and then nodded.
“I’d like that,” I managed to get out. And it was true. I did want to meet his friends. Maybe because I was so very curious to know more about what made Aiden so Aiden. Or maybe I figured I could use all the friends I could get.
It was probably a little bit of both.
I stood up from the table, realizing the line at the register had gotten significantly longer since I’d been sitting. “Um, I have to get back to work now. Hope you have a nice day.”
Aiden stood and reached for my hand, lifting it up and pressing a kiss to it before squeezing it gently and letting it go. Sensation sped up my spine and spread out to my limbs. “You too, Ash.”
After I got off work that afternoon, I took my time getting home just because I could. I stopped at a guitar store and priced out new strings, taking plenty of time to drool over some of the high-end instruments hanging on the wall, and then I wandered through a bookstore to browse the science-fiction section to see what was new. Despite the mouthwatering smells coming from the Italian restaurant near my apartment building, I vowed to stick with my frugality plan and eat plain pasta at home. Getting out of the apartment Billy was paying for was way more important than having a nice meal.
Once I was home, I went straight to the folder I kept stashed under a drawer in my dresser and pulled out the tally sheet of cash I had. After entering the amount of tips for the day, I placed the folder back in its hiding spot and added the cash to the jar under the sink. I took a moment to allow myself to be proud of finally, finally having a plan in place to leave Billy after all this time. Just the act of taking back control of my finances and future was enough to cause me to sleep better, to breathe better. Feeling dependent on Billy for everything had stolen so much more from me than my sense of independence. It had made sense at first during my recovery to accept his insistence that it was his job to take care of me, but now it had absolutely nothing to do with him feeling obligated. I didn’t even know when it had happened, but so many of the things I’d been grateful to Billy for handling had slowly been turned into weapons to use against me.
After moving to New York the previous year, Billy’s friend Eric, who was one of the only people who knew about the two of us, had made a crack at one point about me being a kept woman. I’d waited for Billy to explain that it was more a matter of logistics, but instead he’d just laughed and cracked a joke about me sitting on the sofa eating bonbons while he was busting his ass at work. Not only had the remark stung, but it had left me feeling useless and dependent in the very worst ways.
Finally, it was time to put an end to the era of me being beholden to another person. I never wanted to feel that way again.
As I got dinner going, I turned up the music loud enough so I could dance to it and didn’t even bother cleaning up the kitchen before I sat down to eat. It had taken quite a pep talk to bypass the kitchen table and eat on the couch in the living room while watching TV, but I’d been ridiculously proud of myself afterward, even if I had jumped every time I’d heard any sound that could have been the front door opening. It was only as I was cleaning up the dishes that my phone beeped, indicating a new text. Dread filtered through me as I reached for my phone, but instead of the text being from Billy, it was from Emily.
