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“Yes, it’s quite late, isn’t it?” Fiona says. “Goodnight, Grace. It was lovely meeting you.”
“Goodnight,” I say.
Fiona gives Aidan’s arm a squeeze as he lets her out the door. Once she’s gone, he turns to me with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry I was short with you,” he says, coming to stand in the archway between the foyer and the sitting room. “I’m not used to having other people in the house at night.”
My cheeks heat up at the memory of seeing Aidan with his shirt off. I aim my gaze at the book in my lap. “I shouldn’t have been listening.”
“I realize why you felt compelled to investigate certain...noises, given your history.”
I stiffen. He isn’t wrong, but I don’t like the thought of my reactions to every little trigger being boiled down to a symptom of something horrible I witnessed while growing up. It makes me feel like I’ll always be broken. Maybe I always will be.
There’s no denying that I have unresolved issues. This inappropriate fascination with Aidan is just another sign that something isn’t right with me. It doesn’t matter that I was triggered by a sound coming from what I assume is his bedroom. He’s been nothing but hospitable toward me, and I repaid his kindness by assuming the worst of him.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I say. “This is your house, she’s your guest. I’m just an unforeseen disruption.”
“Grace—”
“You’re right, I should go to bed.” I rise from the couch and paint a smile on my face, leaning on the one crutch I can always rely on: politeness.
I can make it through anything as long as I keep smiling.
“Thank you for welcoming me into your home,” I tell him. “I’ll see you in a month.”
I don’t wait for Aidan to respond before I rush out of the room.
