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I laughed at his answer, a little snort escaping me as I imagined Zander piling plate after plate on the bar as Aaron did box squats.
“Come on, Aaron,” I said, shoving my mental image far away. Because, honestly, a sweat-soaked Aaron was not something to ignore, and we were supposed to be taking this seriously. My mind didn’t get the memo as I pictured the man getting hot and sweaty in the gym.
“I know, I know. To answer your question, if it’s not obvious already, I take something serious and make a joke out of it if I’m even the slightest bit uncomfortable. I’ve been accused of it in the past, and, of course, when one of my exes brought it up, all I did was make a joke about it.”
I flicked the corner of the notecards as I listened, turning my face toward the partition. This was a far cry from the initial impression Aaron had made on our first day. He’d been sincere since our date, and it was nice to see the jokester taking things seriously.
“The tough stuff makes me uneasy, obviously. And the only person I’ve ever really shared anything with is my mom. I know; I’ve talked about her a lot today. And it makes me sound like a Mama’s boy, but it’s true. My dad was awful, and I was the one to make my mom smile.”
I could just picture a younger Aaron doing ridiculous things to make his mom happy.
“Why was your dad awful?” I asked quietly, wanting to know more about what made him tick.
“He used to drink… Hell, he probably still drinks. He’d have a tough day at work and then a beer or six. Or he’d have a great day at work and then a beer or six. Sometimes, he replaced the beer with whisky. He wasn’t himself when he drank, and, especially on bad days, he would take it out on my mom or me.
“Anyway, it took some time, but mom finally got the money together for us to leave.”
“That was strong of her,” I said, wishing I could hug his mom just once as a thank you for pulling Aaron out of that situation and being brave enough to get herself out.
“I was ten when we left, and I haven’t seen my dad since. The first couple of years were tough, and even now, I sometimes see her looking out the front window as if expecting to watch him walk up the driveway like he used to, a mix of fear and hope on her face. It’s been just me and her since then, and I owe her everything.” His voice was resigned, but the pride he felt for his mom came shining through like a beacon. Even though she’d endured a horrendous situation, she put herself and her child first, showing Aaron that love wasn’t enough to justify some actions.
One day, I hoped my own kid spoke of me with the love and adoration Aaron had for his mom. But until then, all I could do was finish the workshop and keep working on myself, because whatever I was doing wasn’t working. It might have been time for a course correction.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Sophie
That night,the room felt filled with emotional baggage after our workshop.
Oliver had respected my request for space, and Diego had politely asked if I would stay with him again tonight. I said yes—opting for comfort over another conversation about our relationships and choosing just one partner. Any more of those, and I felt like I would explode, but life was never that simple, was it?
Across from us, in the bed that Oliver and I had shared on the first night here, were Aaron and Cheryl. Zander and Viv were together like always, and Daniel and Gia were in their usual bed, wrapped up in each other and dozing in peace. And Kayla and Oliver were in the bed farthest from us.
Knowing she was newly single and had initially expressed an interest in Oliver, I pushed down the slither of jealousy that had taken up residence in my head. I was the one who had asked for space. I couldn’t put stipulations on it now.
In bed, with nothing but the crickets chirping outside, Diego broke our silence, speaking softly. “What are you thinking, Soph? Oliver said you guys had a talk on the hike today.”
I breathed in his minty scent and wondered if it would be the last time I would feel him this close to me—this unguarded.
I met his gaze as we lay side by side. Even the light sheet covering me felt stifling—the same way it had felt when Oliver put his arm around me during the hike. There was too much and yet too little to shield me.
“Yeah, we did. I, uh…” I chewed my bottom lip. “I told him I need space.”
“So that means you chose me,” Diego said, his voice rising and excitement clear in his tone. “I knew it. I knew that you and I were meant to be and that the producers had picked us for each other. It must be why they made that new rule about only two to a bed.”
His words washed over me, still relatively quiet in their delivery, but they felt as if they’d been screamed. He was utterly convinced he was right.
“We both live in LA, our values are the same, and you’re exactly the way I described my ideal woman.”
Instead of the compliment he’d probably intended it as, I felt the entire essence of my being had just been boiled down to nothing. Like the producers had chosen me to appease him and not the other way around—as if they had looked through a massive list of applicants and said,Hey, there’s the curvy girl with sass; she’ll do.
I began to question if our reaction to each other that first day and the kiss that night was even real.
I wondered if they could have put any other girl like me in my place, and she would have ended up with Diego. Personality and experiences, apparently, didn’t matter. I was just ticking off checkboxes for him.
“I’m not saying that I chose you. I’m saying I don’t know what I choose, and I need to take a beat to figure it out.”
“Do you want to break up?” he asked.
