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“To the lake?” He pointed over to their right. “We’ve driven—”
“No, I mean to us. To life.”
“That’s a pretty heavy question for a Sunday afternoon hike.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. She got it. This was not the sort of topic she usually used to waste time. “I’m serious. Do you ever wonder if we settled?”
She didn’t wonder, she knew. Aaron wasn’t the problem. She was. She’d never felt that anticipation. Sexual attraction, yes. Desire. But not the deep bonding that allowed her to let someone else steer for a while.
She’d become convinced all of that hearts-and-flowers nonsense was illusory. What counted was staying power. Determination. A will to get along. They had that. A shared commitment that arose from upbringings that told them the wrong way to do things.
She glanced over at him, expecting to see anger. Like he sometimes did, though not often, he surprised her. His forehead wrinkled as if he were actually considering the question. “Was I your safety net?”
Sort of, but not really, because she never felt truly safe and calm. “Neither of us demands that much from the other. We fell in together, decided to start dating without ever having a discussion about it. We rolled from one relationship stage to the other and now sort of bump along.”
He shifted until he faced her. One of his hands slipped to her knee. “I married you because from the minute I met you I thought I’d found someone who understood me.”
“That’s actually very lovely.”
“The way you look, how put together and sure you are—it’s all such a departure from how I grew up. My dad believed in the land. He hunted and fished and didn’t trust anyone. Life was about simplicity and strain.” He whistled. “You blew into that deli, and I couldn’t see anything else.”
She put her hand over his knee. Not something she usually did in public, but it felt right. “From what I can tell, your dad was—”
“A complete asshole.” They both laughed at the topic even though it wasn’t funny. “He taught through shame and by wielding his belt. Nothing I ever did was good enough. Jared was the star. The one who listened and learned. I just wanted out.”
He rarely talked about his upbringing. She knew bits and pieces but not specifics. He didn’t share details. “Neither of us had it easy, but I’m happy Jared was there for you.”
“You experienced shock and horror growing up. You understand an adult’s life isn’t about rainbows and romance.”
She smiled at him because they really were the worst at those sorts of lovey-dovey things. She’d only remembered his birthday last year because Jared called and asked if he could bring over Aaron’s present. Without that call, she would have zipped right over it, and she didn’t think he would have cared. They weren’t celebration people.
“We give each other the stability we missed.” She swallowed as she said the words, both grateful that they never strayed from being on the same page and wistful for what might have been if she were a different person.
“Right.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “We have expectations.”
Something about that word struck her the wrong way. “Are we broken?”
“We’re more like... bent.” They both laughed at that, but he kept going. “With you I can be imperfect. I can retreat, and you understand. We both need time by ourselves. Who else would get us?”
“I guess that means we’re stuck with each other.”
Her mind went to her new client and the kick of need that moved through her when he smiled at her last week. She hadn’t felt that sort of longing to get to know someone in, well, almost forever. Heat, interest, need. The unexpected sensations had pumped through her and had her questioning her neat, boxed-up little life with Aaron.
But nothing could happen. That client would want normal. She’d never been normal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Present Day
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON THE NEXT DAY BEFORE THEY TRACKEDdown Ryan Horita. The Ithaca College professor’s office and home phones went direct to voicemail. Then he had classes and office hours. Now he sat at his desk, across from Ginny and Pete in his cramped, dark office, and frowned. “I’m a little confused about why you’re here.”
Ginny studied the man for a few seconds before answering. Unlike many people, his photos on social media and in the school records matched the live version. Black hair and attractive. Very fit with an open friendliness about him. He looked about thirty but actually was in his midforties.
The rest of the personal stuff she knew—smart, from a family of academics, divorced twice but close enough to both women to still go on vacations together and take photos, active in the local music scene. None of it mattered much except that some of his habits, like attending book signings and open mic nights, made him seem far more outgoing thanthe woman with whom he’d been spending so much time lately.
Speaking of... “We’re here about Lila Ridgefield.”
A small smile came and went on his lips. No other sign of familiarity, but that was good enough to grab Ginny’s attention.
