Page 57 of The Fall Fix Up
Rowan stared at him for a moment, her eyes looking sad. “You’re defending him with the same excuses he used to give when we were kids. That’s not nothing.” Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to say the words, but knew she had to.
“He did the best he could,” Aiden repeated, grasping for something familiar—a line he could repeat to bring his world spinning back to normal. “After Mom—”
“If that’s his best,” Rowan said, her voice low but trembling with emotion, “I would hate to see his worst.”
Aiden’s eyes shot up to hers. “That’s not fair. You don’t know what he was like after you left.”
“Do you think I just packed a bag and skipped merrily down the damn sidewalk, Aiden?” Her eyes were shiny and bright with unshed tears. “I begged him for therapy. I told him I would stay and help, but he didn’t want that unless it was on his exact terms. He wanted a live-in nanny and housekeeper, Aiden, not a daughter.”
Aiden’s throat went tight. “You never told me that.”
“Of course not,” she said. “You were a kid. I didn’t want to burden you with things that were out of your control. And I knew if you confronted him about things, he would make it worse for you.”
“So . . . you left and never came back.” His voice was small and wounded, and he hated the sound immediately. This was why he didn’t want to have this conversation. This was why he didn’t want to bring up the past. It was because of this overwhelming hurt he felt in all the worst ways.
“I tried,” she replied softly. “I tried to be there for birthdays or even holidays. Once I even asked for you to come visit. But I was always told you didn’t want that.”
“Who told . . .” Aiden’s voice trailed off before he even finished the question. He didn’t have to because he already knew. And the worst part was the lack of surprise in his heart by that realization. He didn’t want to believe, but his memory was flooded by muffled half conversations that never totally made sense and presents that appeared under the tree, so different from anything his dad usually picked out.
He remembered the anger of birthdays and Christmases passing without a word from his sister and how he’d cursed her name. He also remembered lying awake at night, staring out the window and wishing desperately that she’d walk though the door again. When he felt a hand on his arm, he realized Rowan had moved closer. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a past he was no longer sure of.
“You’ve been conditioned your whole life to receive scraps of affection—transactions only completed when you’ve given something of yourself as well.” Her words were slow and careful, like she was soothing something wild. “So was I. You don’t know how long it took me to realize that what we were given wasn’t love.”
“That’s not . . . Dad isn’t giving me scraps, Rowan. He’s just going through hard times.”
“So are you,” she pointed out.
Aiden shook his head, wishing to relieve some of the pressure that had built. “I’m a grown man. I can solve my own problems. I’m not some kind of victim of . . . of abuse or anything. You make it sound like I can’t handle my own life.”
“Of course you can,” Rowan replied. “You’re smart and capable. That’s why I hate to see the way you twist yourself into knots to defend him.”
Aiden looked away, jaw working as the air grew thick around him. Everything was too much. The air was too warm and the lights too bright.
“Stop,” he said quietly, just needing a moment to breathe. “Just . . . stop.”
He heard Rowan take a breath but couldn’t look at her. Not until he could get his heartbeat to slow and his nerves to settle. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“He did the best he could,” he said again, his voice softer, the words more unsure than they’d ever been. When he opened his eyes, Rowan still stood there, but this time, her shoulders were slumped. Her hand fell away.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be angry.”
Guilt sat heavy in his stomach, but Aiden remembered the rejections and the credit reports. His anger was there, simmering below the surface only held back by the weight of that guilt. It was too much.
“I’m sorry Vini called you,” he said finally. “She shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I’ll handle things with Dad. You don’t have to worry about this.”
Rowan watched him for a moment, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, she shook her head with a sigh.
“I’d hoped you would come out unscathed, but I know that was naive.” She chuckled softly, the sound lacking any humor. “I hope you see him for who he is before you let him bleed you dry.”
Aiden’s chest clenched, but he didn’t have the words to say to make any of this better. He didn’t know how to make this right.
Rowan nodded once before squeezing his arm a final time. “I love you, okay? Just . . . know that.”
He opened his mouth, tongue sticking even as he tried to form words. Inside, something small and stubborn pounded on the walls of his mind, begging to be let out. But he kept quiet even as Rowan turned and left, her footsteps fading across the wood. Even after she was gone, Aiden stood there wondering just how much more it would take of him pretending everything was fine before it finally was.
Chapter 23
The house was silent when Janae came in. She knew Aiden was still at work. He had texted her that he would be a little late. She felt bad since she knew it was because he’d fixed her car before others in the garage. Vini had given her a knowing look when she came into the shop yesterday with Aiden to pick it up, and Janae almost hid behind Aiden’s back. She knew Vini probably heard all about their “date but not really a date” to the pumpkin patch. Hell, when she got to work a couple days after it, Grace had bumped her shoulder to ask how she liked riding with Aiden, and Janae nearly spit her coffee on the floor. Small towns were menaces when it came to keeping a low profile. Then again, it was hard to do that when you were roaring through town with six-plus feet of man on top of a Harley. Janae might as well not even try. At least her parents weren’t here to see her. Her mom probably would have fainted.
