His to Cherish (18 page)

The mood was somber as I sat in Camden's living room along with Suzanne, Paige, and Blue. Trina was working at Fireside Grill with Declan and couldn't make it. In my selfishness, I was sort of happy. Trina and Declan were good friends with Aidan. She had become friends with Aidan when she'd first met Declan. I wanted to wallow in my self-made misery without it getting back to Trina, or Aidan and Declan through her.

This was the first month in a year that we hadn't met at Fireside, and it was entirely my fault because I'd refused to return to a place where Aidan's friends worked.

The night I'd left Aidan's house a week ago, he hadn't come after me.

Which I hadn't actually expected, considering he had just dealt a massive blow to his ex and he'd probably had to explain everything. I didn't envy him for that. My heart ached and tightened inside my chest every day I thought about him, and wondered how that conversation had gone, along with how he had fared, having to relive it to someone out loud.

He had shown up at my house on the third day and I'd refused to answer my door even though he knew I was home, knew it because my lights were on, and he'd stood pounding at my door for a good forty-five minutes before he finally left.

My phone had been inundated with texts ever since, begging me for a chance to let him explain.

I wasn't brave enough to allow him that chance yet.

Would I ever be? Every time I closed my eyes, those two damn words rattled inside my brain.
Nobody important.

I still couldn't believe he'd said it. I couldn't believe that, even if he had a valid explanation for saying those two words, I meant so little to him that they could easily roll off his lips.

No. There was nothing he could say that would make it better…nothing he could say that would make the sting of that rejection, so blatantly declared in front of me, something I could overlook or forget.

They were almost as painful as the words Cory had spit at me the night he'd left me, calling me worthless.

You can't even have kids, and I want a whole woman, not a half of one. Being married to you is pointless.

Why did I always have to be the strong one? The person whom everyone else leaned on? It had put me in a position to be available for that kind of verbal venom from Aidan, and I was tired of it. It wasn't the first time he'd blatantly hurt me. And if I had learned anything from my past, it was my father's sage advice that a zebra never changed its stripes.

No, Aidan was incredible in many ways, but he'd scratched too deep. Intentionally. He'd exposed my scars and I was dealing with the lingering pain all over again. I couldn't do that and be there for him, waiting for another attack. He was hurting, I knew it. I could even sympathize with it. But I could no longer be the
anything
I'd once promised him. I deserved more than to be a punching bag when shit got tough.

After Aidan had finally left my house that night, I packed a bag, and after work the next day, showed up on Camden's doorstep with my suitcase in hand and tears in my eyes.

I hadn't left her house since except to go to work and go straight back there.

Thankfully, she had an insane amount of alcohol in her house. Along one wall in her basement, Camden had a wall of refrigerators that could rival our neighborhood liquor store. She kept it stocked with wine and beer from all over the world just because she enjoyed trying new things.

I'd been indulging frequently.

It was the perfect place to mope. And hide.

I wasn't oblivious to the fact that, at some point, Aidan and I would have to confront what happened. We had too many mutual friends to ignore each other forever. At the moment, however, my current method of avoidance coupled with heavy dosages of French and Argentine wines was working for me.

Aidan texted every day asking for a chance to explain, asking to talk to me when I was ready, yet I could tell he was also becoming impatient. At some point, the man I came to love would stop letting me hide from him.

But until that happened, I preferred the solace of Camden's house with my friends, sitting around drinking margaritas from a bucket mix from Costco instead of Fireside.

Though I was so tired of their shifty-eyed looks, as if they no longer knew what to say to me.

They'd made their opinions clear.

Give him a chance.

Run.

Hear him out.

Asshole.

Camden had been ringing the “asshole” bell loud and clear, which was exactly what I expected from her.

And yet, the few times I'd heard her say it, I couldn't bring myself to agree with it.

Because I was still a fool, and even ignoring Aidan, knowing whatever I thought we were building was over, I still couldn't hate the jerk.

“Someone give me good news,” I pleaded.

“Psssh,” Camden said into her glass, frowning. “I don't have anything good. I got a new boss at work the other day and he's a total prick.”

“Is he hot?” Paige asked, a glimmer in her eye. When Camden shot her a glare, she shrugged. “What? Office romances are hot.”

“And could get me fired.” Camden scowled. “And no, the guy is worthless and his hair is greasy. He's a total slimeball, really.”

“That sucks,” I muttered, only because I'd been listening to her complain about her new boss for days now. I didn't blame her, either. Camden worked for a tax accounting firm that handled accounts for small- to medium-size businesses. Tax season was finally over and she was finally able to stop working until nine or ten o'clock every night. From what she'd told me, her new boss only got the job because he was related to some higher-up, not because he was qualified.

And Camden had wanted that job, so she was fuming about the guy's ineptitude.

“I had a kid shove a pea up his nose at lunch today,” Paige added unhelpfully.

I turned and looked at her. “How is that good news?”

She grinned. “It made
me
laugh.”

I shook my head, a small, brief chuckle falling from my lips while I was midsip in my margarita. It made the drink bubble and then burn in my nose as I choked on it.

“Ow,” I whined, pinching my nose to stop the horrible feeling. Tequila burn up the nose was wretched.

But it broke the morose feeling that had settled in the room for a few minutes, at least until Blue looked at me pensively. She'd been relatively quiet throughout the night, watching me with a look that told me she was trying to decide what to say, if anything. She'd fit right into our original group of four from the very beginning when Paige had gone over and talked to her one night at Fireside. In truth, Suzanne had dared her to, since Blue had seemed to know Declan and she wanted to know if the two of them were dating. Not that we'd ever told Blue that part. Sometimes I felt bad for her and Trina. It wasn't always easy to become the new members of a group of friends who had known each other for what seemed like forever. I knew it made them uncomfortable, feeling like they couldn't be completely honest with us.

But we loved them. We loved Blue and Trina just like we loved each other. In the last year, we'd all gone through hell and back several times over with the drama they'd both faced early on in their relationships. To me, at least, it cemented us together in a way that few would understand.

“What?”

Blue shrugged, seeming to carefully consider her words.

“When Cory left you, that was really shitty.”

“Thanks for bringing it up.”

She pinned me with a look. One that, swear to God, she had to have learned from her now-convicted father. He was rotting in a federal prison due to his illegal dealings while he ran an underworld crime family. Had I not known how kind and sweet Blue was, the look she gave me would have made me tremble in fear.

“Do you remember when Tyson and I were separated? And we both got drunk and sat on that bench waiting for a cab?”

A cab we'd never seen show up because when Declan had seen us sitting outside, worried, he'd called Tyson to pick us up. After Tyson had arrested her father, Blue hadn't spoken to him for months.

“Of course I remember.”

“Then you'll remember that you told me Tyson Blackwell is one of the good guys. He lied. He hurt me intentionally by keeping information from me, and I didn't know if I could forgive him for that. It was you and your wisdom that opened the door to the possibility of me being able to do that for him. I feel like in this case, it's my turn to do the same thing for you.”

“Yeah, but this isn't the first time.”

“And it won't be the last,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I mean, come on, Chelsea. He's lost his
son.
In an accident—no advance warning, no time to prepare. How stable do you really think the guy is going to be? And with Mandy showing up, someone I've heard crazy-ass things about, and her history of dicking Aidan around for the last fifteen years, you have to give him a little leeway to fuck up.” She shrugged, as if she hadn't just rocked my world and the foundation I'd been trying to stand on the last few days. When she spoke again, her voice was sweeter. “I'm not saying you have to forgive him. I'm not saying you should. I'm saying the man needs a bit more understanding and allowances for screwing up right now. That's all.”

“And if you don't get yourself some closure by talking to him soon,” Suzanne said, cutting in before I could speak, not that I could find anything to say, “you're going to regret it, sweetie. Talk to him. Listen. And then decide.”

I glowered at her. “Who said you could come to girls' night and be rational?”

Suzanne shrugged, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I haven't been drinking.”

I scoffed and finished my drink before getting a refill along with a plate of nachos that Paige had picked up at Fireside on her way over.

We may not have been eating there, but I had no problems taking the food she'd brought with her. It was exceptional.

Later, after we'd finished margaritas and everyone had left and Camden and I had finished cleaning up, I realized two things:

Suzanne hadn't had a single drink.

And she'd never shared her good news.

As I dragged myself up the stairs to bed, my stomach sank with the reality of how much she loved me, because I wasn't stupid. She and Jackson had been married for six years and Suzanne had never not drunk on a girls' night—or any other day ending with Y.

She was pregnant. She had to be. And probably worried about me and what my reaction to that would be, so she hadn't felt like she could share it with her best friends.

I fell asleep feeling like a complete heel for making my friends worry, for not being the kind of person they'd been for me—someone who was happy for the others regardless of what was going on in her own life.

In my hazy, tipsy brain, I made a mental note to clear the air with Suzanne, figure out how to get my own shit together in my head, and grow the hell up.

“I'm so glad to hear he's doing well, Beth,” I said into my phone.

“Yes, well, he's getting there. And hopefully he'll be home soon.”

I tapped my pen against my desk, trying to find something to say to encourage her. Shane had been in treatment for several weeks now and I knew she was anxious to have her son home, but worried about how he'd handle everything once he was.

As it stood, Shane wouldn't return to school for the end of the year, but instead would be getting private tutors over the summer to help him catch up. He was coming home in the next couple of weeks, right around the time school was let out for the year.

But that was only schoolwork.

I was still worried about Shane, too.

“He will,” I assured her. And then I asked the question I'd been trying not to ask. “Has he seen Aidan lately?”

My stomach twisted into knots saying his name. I was still so angry with him.

She sighed into the phone. “He has, but not a lot. When I talked to Aidan a few days ago he seemed really upset. Have any idea what that's about?”

“Mandy showed up last week.” My stomach twisted further. Saying Mandy's name was worse than saying Aidan's. Even thinking about Mandy made me feel unsettled.

She gasped. “That would explain it. How'd he handle it?”

“Not really sure.” My grip tightened around my pen as I flashed back to that night. I was saved from having to answer when the after-lunch bell rang. “Listen, that's the bell, I really have to go.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you later?” She sounded hopeful, and I smiled.

Derrick's death had brought so many more people into my life. Beth was slowly becoming a friend. Even if our main link was Shane, we still shared something that few people did and I was thankful for her. She might not ever join my group of besties, but it was good to know her.

“You bet.”

I hung up the phone and immediately dropped my head into my hands.

Pressing my fingers into my temples, I rubbed small, firm circles. My hangover from girls' night had yet to disappear despite the amount of water, orange juice, and pain pills I'd taken.

It wasn't just the lingering effects of too many margaritas that I was still feeling halfway through my workday.

It was Suzanne's pregnancy that she hadn't shared.

It was the fact that I missed Aidan. Still pissed and still hurting from what he said, I wanted to pick up the phone and shout a slew of obscenities until his head hurt as badly as mine.

I also wanted to ask him why. Why would he say those things to me, smile and laugh, and talk about a future trip to Chicago when the entire time I was simply
nobody important
?

Suzanne and Blue were right. At the very least, I needed closure.

“Argh,” I groaned, and squeezed my eyes closed.

I no longer had time to wallow and wonder. I had books to shelve, a task I hated doing, but it was mundane and I really wanted to stop thinking. Fortunately, I didn't have any classes planning to be in our library or computer labs that afternoon, so I had hours of quiet to look forward to.