On Second Thought(119)

I opened the door, which was never locked. “Hello?” I called, setting Ollie on the floor. My little dog tore off into the kitchen, barking madly. “It’s Ainsley.”

“Come on in, honey!” Judy called. I walked into the kitchen, the smell of baked goods in the air.

And jerked to a stop.

Eric was here, holding Ollie in his arms as the overjoyed and traitorous dog licked his face, whining with happiness.

“Sweetheart!” Aaron said, hugging me. My arms stayed at my sides.

My never-fiancé smiled at me. “Hey,” he said. Hey. After all this, hey? Please.

He looked confident and gorgeous. He was wearing contacts, which was unusual, and had a beard, like in the picture. His hair was longer than I’d ever seen it, scooped back into the dreaded man-bun, and his face was ruddy from sun exposure, his nose a little burned.

His rugged man appeal hit me straight in the gut. “Eric,” I said flatly. “You’re back.”

“I did what I needed to do,” he said.

“Well, surprise!” Judy said. “We’ll leave you kids alone to talk. There’s cake! And cookies. And some ice cream in the freezer. And if you’re hungry, Ainsley, there’s a roast chicken in the fridge.”

“We’re good, Mom. Thank you,” Eric said, setting down the dog.

“We’ll just go outside, then. Ollie, do you want a ball? Can you catch the ball?” Ollie flew out with them, and Judy tossed a tennis ball, but if I knew her, she’d be at the window eavesdropping in ten seconds.

“Have a seat,” Eric said, pulling a chair back. “You look fantastic.”

“I won’t be here long, Eric.”

“Well, hear what I have to say, okay? I mean, we have ten years together.”

“Eleven.”

“Even more reason to stay.” He smiled and poured me some coffee, stirring in sugar and cream. Irritating, that he remembered how I took it.

He sat down next to me. “Want cake?”

“Just get to it. I have things to do. That man-bun looks ridiculous, by the way.”

He laughed, not bothered in the least. “Yeah, I need to get a haircut.” He looked at his own coffee. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“I was tricked into it.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” Another smile. “Okay, I’ll cut to the chase. I can’t say I made a mistake in going to Alaska, but I sure made a mistake leaving you.” He looked at me steadily.

“Fascinating,” I said. “Are you done?”

“Ains, I don’t know what happened. To say I freaked out would be a gross understatement.”

“Agreed.”

“I think you know better than anyone—better than I do, even—what was going on. It’s just like you said. I was scared of dying, then Nathan’s accident... I just lost it.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I lost you. I threw you away, and it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. For the past month, I’ve been meditating on it and I’m so, so sorry, Ainsley. You’re the best thing—”

“Why don’t we stop here?” I interrupted. “Apology not accepted. Was that all?”

He put his hand over mine, and it was still there. The tingle. The connection. The familiarity that I used to love with all my heart. My Eric, our life.

Which he’d shat upon.

I pulled my hand back.

He leaned forward, his face earnest and serious, none of that glazed-over zealousness he’d had all through his cancer months.

“You have every right to be mad and hurt,” he said. “Of course you do. And, babe, if I could have a do-over on the past four months, I’d take it in a heartbeat. If you gave me another chance, I’d spend the rest of my life making sure you didn’t regret it. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“That’s not what you said in the restaurant that night. And that’s not what you blogged about.”

“I think I was having a psychotic break.”

“Oh, please.”

He nodded. “Okay. A midlife crisis, then, a decade or so early?” He smiled, then grew serious again. “Ainsley, for eleven years, we were so perfect together. We’ve had a hundred and thirty-seven months together. I did the math,” he added with a wink. He knew I couldn’t multiply in my head. “Four of those months were me being a complete and total ass. Does that wipe out everything else? Because I did want to marry you. I still do. I want you to be the mother of my—”

“Stop,” I said. “I don’t want to hear this.” But my voice was trembling with an emotion I couldn’t pin down. Anticipation? Happiness? Hate?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “Let me make it up to you, Ainsley. Marry me. Let’s have that life we were meant to have. I’ll never let you down again.” He gave a crooked smile, his lovely brown eyes warm.

And there was my ring, the first time I’d seen it since the night Nathan died. The beautiful, hypnotic ring.

I suddenly knew what the trembling was. Fury.

“Are you out of your mind?” I said. “You smug, spoiled, entitled little shit. You broke my heart, humiliated me every chance you got, called me a corpse dragging you down, and you think I’m going to marry you?”