Chapter Twenty-Nine

Aaron

“Well, don’t you look nice?” Mr. Buster scans me up and down while holding his clipboard to his chest, looking rather calm, given the play starts in an hour.

I shift uncomfortably in my dress shirt and khakis. “You did set a dress code.”

“It’s nice to not look like a slouch.” Pointing his pen at my face, he asks, “How did you get those black eyes again? Those weren’t on the dress code.”

“Two by four to the face,” I lie, not wanting to get into the drama of my life. My nose was definitely broken and since I’ve been staying with Tucker and Emma, she’s been on my ass about icing it constantly. She’s even threatened to make me wear a brace across my face at night but I drew the line there. I’ll ice, but there will be no face brace.

“Ooof, that must have smarted.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, it smarted all right.” I deserved the punch. I can understand where Trey was coming from, especially since he recently wrote me an email, explaining his actions and apologizing as well. He doesn’t want there to be any bad blood between us. I don’t want there to be any bad blood either, but it’s going to take some healing before I call my brother to talk. We’ve never been close, I’m not sure we ever will be, but at least I know we cleared the air. I don’t know what Amelia told him about us in the weeks they were apart, if she told him anything at all, but knowing she will be in his arms each night will break me, so for a while, I need to lie low.

Mr. Buster looks around. “Where’s your little friend, Miss Santos? She’s coming, right?”

I shrug my shoulders, even though I’m almost one hundred percent sure I know the answer to that question. Amelia won’t show up tonight, and I’m the one reason why.

“She’s been busy, so she probably won’t be able to make it,” I lie again to Mr. Buster, with my eyes downcast.

“Hmm, there’s something you’re not telling me, Aaron.” Lying has never been my strong suit. “Did you two quarrel?”

Mr. Buster has many more important things to deal with, so he doesn’t need to add this to the list. I pat him on the shoulder and say, “Nothing you need to worry about, but thank you for your concern. I have to make sure the sets are secure. I’ll catch you after the show. Break a leg, Mr. Buster.”

I start to walk away, but Mr. Buster calls out, “This conversation isn’t over.”

Little does he know, it is. If I have to skip the last act to avoid a conversation with him, I will.

As I walk backstage to check on everything, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and answer.

“We’re here!” Racer shouts into the phone, making me pull it away from my ear. “Did you save us seats?”

I roll my eyes. “No, dickhead, and sit in the back so the parents can have good seats for pictures.”

“We showed up an hour early for the good seats. There is no way in hell I’m sitting in the back. I want to be front and center so I can judge your craftsmanship.”

“Thanks for the support, man.”

“Anytime.” There is shuffling of the phone and Tucker’s voice comes on the line. “Is she here?”

I run my hand through my hair, messing up how neatly I styled it earlier. “No, man, and I don’t expect her to be. Hell, I don’t want her to be. I just want to get through this night and get the hell out of here.”

“Okay . . . well, we’re here, so let us know when you’re ready, and we’ll leave with you.” In the background I can here Racer say, “I’m not leaving until I see Santa.”

“He’s a fucking treat tonight.”

“You have no idea,” Tucker huffs into the phone. “He snuck a box of Swiss Rolls in Georgie’s purse, even though there’s a sign that specifically says no outside food.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Sighing, I say, “All right, I should make sure everything is set. I’ll see you after the play.”

“Okay, let us know if you need anything,” Tucker answers sincerely.

“Thanks, man.”

A few nights ago, Tucker had a mini heart-to-heart with me. He let me know I was welcome to stay with him and Emma for as long as I wanted, as long as I promised not to revert to drinking. He knew the kind of destruction I could make when trying to drink my sorrows away. I promised him I wouldn’t drink, and I would leave his place soon, but every time I started to pack, the thought of going back to my house, being close to Amelia again and not able to hold her, I couldn’t stomach it.

I’m trying to put her in my past, but it seems like everywhere I go or everything I do reminds me of her, of the laughs we shared, the adventures we took, the nights we spent simply enjoying each other’s company again. Deep down I know I was made for loving Amelia, but despite that, our paths never perfectly crossed. You can love someone with all your heart, but if the timing is off, it never works out. And I’m not saying it’s timing that got in the way of my relationship with Amelia, but I’ve never had the best of luck when it comes to her. There always seems to be something in the way where we’re concerned, and I don’t think that’s going to change.

I scan the sets and check for loose screws, un-sanded edges, or spots that need paint touch-ups. I spend the next hour examining everything. The last thing I want to happen is for a child to get hurt because I didn’t double-check.

Mr. Buster charges through the backstage. “Twenty seconds, people. Get to your places.” He spots me and says, “Aaron, get the heck out of there, we’re about to open the curtain.”

“Yeah, okay.” I stand and work my way to the side of the stage where I lean against a pole and fold my arms over my chest, watching Mr. Buster count down. It’s comical, seeing this grown man take a children’s holiday musical so seriously. This is like his World Series; it’s almost as much fun watching him as it is watching the kids try to remember their lines, dance moves, and song lyrics.

The opening song plays on the piano and the curtain is drawn. The children mill about the “town” and sing “Holly Jolly Christmas” as Mr. Buster taps his foot off to the side, mouthing the lyrics and performing the dance moves himself. He’s a dance mom to the extreme.

“Everything looks amazing.”

I still, my eyes trained forward as the hairs on the back of my neck stand and goosebumps rattle over my skin. That voice. Like honey.

Unfolding my arms, I turn to see Amelia standing next to me, wearing a green dress with long sleeves that ends just above her knees. She’s wearing red earrings and her hair is in a low braid that falls to one side of her body, a small poinsettia flower tucked behind one of her ears. She looks beautiful.

“Amelia,” I breathe out, nerves wracking my body. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Well, I did put together half of the set.”

“Oh, right.” I nod and swallow hard. Fuck, she looks so damn beautiful, my arms itch to pull her into my chest and keep her there forever. I turn back to the play, feeling more awkward than ever. Should I step aside and let her watch by herself? Should I give her space?

I’m about to do just that when she says, “Would you mind catching some fresh air with me?”

“Uh”—I look around, still thrown off that she’s talking to me—“Sure.”

I head toward the side door when Amelia stops me, and says, “No, this way.”

Confused, she takes me to the back of the school where we were told to park and leads me into the chilly winter night. Thankfully it hasn’t hit single digits yet, so even though we can see our breath in the air, we aren’t about to get frostbite.

“Over here,” she calls out, leading me around to a dark corner of the building, as she shrugs on her long coat. Eh, should I be concerned?

When I turn the corner, I see my truck with its tailgate down and the bed decorated in Christmas lights. When I stop to take it all in, Amelia grabs my hand and leads me the rest of the way.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up, trying to steady my rapidly beating heart.

“Mind giving me a lift?” she asks, pointing to the tailgate of my truck. Not giving it a second thought, I lift her up on the tailgate, and when she pats the spot next to her, I take a seat as well.

Reaching behind her, Amelia pulls up a box of Nirchi’s pizza. She hands it to me, a huge smile on her face and says, “Open it.”

Thoroughly confused, unsure if something startling is going to pop out of the box, I carefully open it up. When I see what’s inside, I almost break down.

Staring back at me, written in Buffalo chicken pieces are the words, I love you.

I stare at the pizza for what seems like forever, trying to figure out if I’m dreaming, but when Amelia takes the box away from me and cups my face, forcing me to look at her, I know this isn’t a dream.

“I’m so in love with you, Aaron, desperately in love with you. I’m so sorry you thought otherwise.”

A smile breaks through my lips, total elation coursing through me as she presses her lips against mine. I reciprocate the kiss, taking in this moment, a moment I never thought I’d have again.

When she pulls away, she brushes away a single tear that falls down my face.

I clear my throat. “I don’t understand.”

She holds my gaze. “I get you, Aaron. You might not communicate the way I wish you did, and you might make decisions for the both of us that I don’t agree with, but I understand where it’s coming from.” She presses her palm against my chest. “You have a beautiful heart, a beautiful soul, and you show it every day to me. Some days I might be blind to it, like I was the other day, but that doesn’t mean I won’t recognize it over time. You might not see your worth, but I see it, and you are everything to me.”

She grips my head again and speaks with firm passion. “Everything, Aaron. And no matter how many times you try to push me away because you think it’s what’s best for me, I will always come back, because what you need to understand is what’s best for me is you.” She presses another kiss against my lips. “You’re my once in a lifetime, and I’m not letting you go. So push all you want, run away, try to send me in a different direction; from now on, it’s not going to work. I’m yours and you’re mine, and it’s time you realize that. You’re my forever, Aaron.”

Fuck.

Warmth, the warmth of Amelia and her love, spreads through my veins, igniting me, awakening a part of me that’s been dead for quite some time. Needing to be closer to her, I pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. I hold on to her hips and rest my forehead against hers.

“I love you so much, Amelia.” I kiss her lips. “Don’t let me push you anymore. I want you to follow me, even into the dark parts of my life.”

“I will, always, Aaron.” She presses a kiss against my lips. “Always.”

“I didn’t purposely lie to you about knowing who Trey was, Amelia. At first I was so shocked, but I didn’t want who he was to me to influence you. I stepped back, hoping you would see me as the man for you.”

“I know that now. It makes sense. And I did. You are the man for me.” Thank fuck.

“Trey knows?”

“Yes. I talked to him before he drove back to the city. I think he regrets punching you.”

I nod. “He wrote me an email.”

“I didn’t explain everything to him about us, because I decided it wasn’t because of us that I broke up with him. I didn’t mourn his loss when I left him on my birthday. I mourned the breakdown of the relationship, of my visions of him and me in Binghamton. But I had already felt that we had pulled away from each other. I didn’t tell you why we broke up, but he taken a promotion in the city and bought an apartment for us—”

“But your dad . . .”

“Exactly. Anyway, his decisions were the icing on the cake to some extent. As I walked up the stairs to our shared apartment on Thanksgiving, I knew I was no longer home. I told him that, too. It wasn’t only his actions that broke us. My heart had already left. Binghamton is home. You are home, Aaron. And you reminded me of that when you cared for me so lovingly on my birthday and the week afterward. I didn’t need your love to make me whole, but it made me whole anyway,” I said, barely holding back more tears. Happy tears this time.

“It’s you, Amelia. I’ll never stop loving you, but I may fuck up occasionally.”

“Yeah, you might. But so might I. But you need to talk to me, no matter how scared you are, you need to talk to me. I’m not going anywhere; I’m here to stay, just know that. Whatever you may be going through, I will forever hold you tightly. Okay?” I nod, understanding everything she’s trying to convey. With a gruff voice, I say, “I’m a bit of a broken man, baby.”

“Good thing I’m the perfect match to put you back together.”

And if that isn’t the God’s honest truth. I’ve never needed anyone more than I need Amelia in my life.

We hold each other in the barely lit space of my truck bed, the faint sound of the musical playing in the background. The only thing keeping us warm is each other’s arms. That, and the promise of a future together.

“Nirchi’s pizza, huh?”

She shrugs, placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Seems fitting. I know you can’t turn down a girl with a passion for Buffalo chicken pizza.”

“No chance in hell. I’d be a fool to.”

“Good thing you’re a smart man, then.”

Her lips find mine again and I sink into her kiss, letting her love pour over me.

When you first meet someone, it’s exciting, thrilling, that first chance is a gift bestowed upon you. And when your heart is taken away from you, when you think everything you ever wanted is taken away, sometimes you get a second chance. That second chance is pure luck. It doesn’t happen for everyone, only a select few. But that third chance, the one where you think there is no way you’ll ever be able to hold her heart in your hands again? When it happens, when that third chance is placed in front of you, it means one thing and one thing only.

You were meant to be.

Despite the roadblocks, the heartache, the stumbles and falls, the universe tells you something important: you’re meant to be together. Third chances are the rarest of them all, which makes them the most important to treasure.

Amelia is mine . . . forever.