Conviction (Consolation Duet #2)(15)

I look out the window and then at the clock. Shit. It’s almost seven.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in these projects,” I explain.

“Right. Work,” Aaron replies disbelievingly. “I figured you might be somewhere else. I don’t have a car or anyway to get anywhere. I just wanted to know what to do.”

“Aaron,” I say softly. “I’m really sorry. I’m leaving the office now and I’ll be there soon. Let me call Paige and see if she can keep Aarabelle overnight. Then we can have dinner and talk?”

We need to figure out the logistics of all of this, and I need answers. I need to know from him what exactly happened and how we move forward for Aarabelle’s sake. I don’t want to move out of my house, but I don’t want to throw him out either.

“I’d like that.”

“Okay,” I smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, Natalie.”

“I—” I choke on the words. “I gotta go,” I mutter quickly and disconnect the phone.

There’s no traffic on the road and Paige was happy to keep Aarabelle. I’m not sure how to handle things with Aaron, but I need to know a lot of things. Where he was for the last year, for one. I’m assuming if Aaron went on that rescue mission, it hadn’t been by choice, but I’d also assumed he wasn’t sleeping around.

I park in the drive and a text bings.

Liam: We have to talk.

Me: I know. I need to handle things tonight with Aaron.

Liam: Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you.

Me: I love you.

The text was easy to say. I didn’t stumble over my words because my heart is where Liam is. No matter what my past holds with Aaron, my future belongs to Liam. I need to figure out how to make my present match up with all of this now.

I wait for a text from Liam but it doesn’t come. My finger hovers over the call button. How can he not say it back? I’m trying to prove to him that he’s my choice. I’m being honest and faithful to him. Hell, I snuck out of my house just to see him.

“Lee?” I drop the phone and cover my mouth to avoid screaming. I look at the window and Aaron is standing there. “You okay?”

Gasping for breath, I look over. “I’m fine. You scared me.”

He opens the door and extends his hand. “Sorry, I was worried.” Hesitantly, I place my hand in his. I wait for a spark, a zing, anything, however, there’s nothing but familiarity there. “I ordered food. I figured it would be easier than either of us cooking.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “You and cooking don’t really mix.”

Aaron places his hand on the small of my back, and I move faster.

“Some things never change,” he muses.

“And some things do.”

Aaron lets out a breath. “I guess they do.” He pauses as we make our way to the deck. I look at the table with candles, roses, and pizza by the side. “I thought, maybe . . .”

I turn and look at him with so much anger and hurt. “You thought what? You would make this a date? This isn’t a date, Aaron. This is figuring out how the hell to make this less painful than it already is. I can’t just forget that you cheated on me . . .”

“So you’re going to take her word as bond? You’re not going to give me the chance to explain anything?” he explodes and softens his stance. Aaron lowers himself to the ground at my feet. “You loved me once. We had a love that others prayed for. You and I made vows.” His voice is feeble, and it’s as if the ground is swallowing him.

I drop my purse and perch myself on my knees in front of him. “Vows that were broken. And yes, we loved each other once, and we lost ourselves somewhere on that path.” Aaron’s eyes meet mine, and I want to cry. “Let’s not do this to each other. Please,” I plead.

“Let’s just enjoy dinner and talk.”

I nod and we both shift. “There are things I need to know. Like, what happened in Afghanistan?” I decide we have to start there. I need to know about the affair, but at the same time I don’t know it will make a difference. I need to put each of our issues into their appropriate box. Again with the damn boxes. But I think it’ll help me keep each of the mounds of bullshit contained so I can handle them better.

“I know you have questions, and I’ll answer the best I can. I’m still fuzzy on some parts.” Aaron says and stands extending his hand.

I stand on my own, knowing I need to keep my composure and appear in control. We sit in the chairs illuminated by a soft candle glow. I fight the urge to blow them all out. This isn’t a date. But I need him to be honest, not set him off.

“Tell me about the explosion.” My voice is low and calming.

Aaron puts a slice of pizza on both our plates and then he grabs my hand. “Is this okay?” he asks looking down.

It seems like he needs this from me. Like my hand is the lifeline that will ground him. “Yeah, you can hold my hand.” I speak the words and squeeze his hand.

“Thanks, baby.”

“You can’t call me ‘baby,’” I reply more harshly than I meant to. Aaron’s eyes drop to our joined hands.

“But I can hold your hand?”

“I think you need a friend. I think you need support to talk about what’s going on and what happened. I’ve been your friend since we were kids. I’ll always be your friend.”