Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
We are finally making some miles toward our destination. The closer we get to it, the more I dread it. The L.A. traffic jam isn’t making it any better.
Emma’s holding the world on her lap. Literally, since the store had a break it and buy it policy.
I sensed her freaking out at breakfast. I didn’t help. I have my own fair share of fears. Plus, I didn’t know what she wanted. We’d avoided the conversation. I think she’s afraid I might be an anglerfish after all. That maybe I’m angling her.
I am not.
I am trying to figure this out. I am trying not to be pissed off that she’d rather move to Sudan than talk to me rationally. Okay, I know the Sudan thing isn’t going to happen. But a part of me wonders if it’s her way of saying she doesn’t care where she ends up, even if it’s away from me.
I sneak glances at her while I drive. She is so sad and lost. She’s a natural optimist with nothing to feel optimistic about. I’m to blame for some of that because I shared my feelings with her in present tense only. I didn’t talk about the past, and I certainly didn’t hint toward the future.
Cut me a break, Emma. I’m in new territory with no map or compass. Give me a second to find my way to you…please.
She’s holding on to that stupid globe like it’s a fucking crystal ball.
“We haven’t known each other very long,” she says.
“True. But you know more about me than anyone else. In fact, you’re probably an expert when it comes to me.”
“I believe that.” She’s quiet for a while staring out her window. “Why mythology?”
“What?”
“You name dogs after mythological characters. Why that?”
At least that’s an easy one.
“When I was young, I read a book about it. Then I read every book I could find on the subject. It made sense that the gods are vengeful. That they deceived, cheated, stole, and caused chaos just for the hell of it.”
“That’s bleak.”
Okay, maybe not as easy as I thought.
“I’m bleak.”
“You’re not. You’re funny and kind and affectionate.”
I crack my neck. Is that what she sees in me? “Thank you.”
“Will you tell me about the scars?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?”
“Explaining it would be talking about it, wouldn’t it?”
“And Amy? Who is she?”
Amy is her mother before she changed her name. But I can’t tell her that, can I? Sometimes, the truth will hurt a person more than lies. I’m not about to hurt Emma. “Off the table.”
“This is a very small table.” She tilts her head. “Is it a table set for one?”
I grip the wheel tighter as my heart pumps uncharacteristically loud. “Your talent for interjecting metaphor into everyday conversation is almost as impressive as your knowledge of the animal kingdom.”
“You hide behind jokes, Sheffield.”
“See what an expert you are when it comes to me?” She looks away. I put my arm around her, pulling her toward me. I stroke and kiss her hair. She lays her head against my chest. “Give me a little space on some things. Can you do that for me, angel?”
“Sure, Aiden. I can give you all the space you want.”
That didn’t go well. I expect her to shut down, but she asks another question. Thankfully, it’s one I can answer.
“Did you have dogs as a kid?”
“One.”
“What was his name?”
“Her. Her name was Sassy. She was a hunting dog.” The memory is bittersweet.
“What happened to her?”
“I had to give her away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. She was a good friend. She taught me what loyalty is.”
“Why did you give her away?”
“I couldn’t take care of her anymore. Although, looking back I think she took care of me more than the other way around.”
“You miss her.”
“Every day, Emma.”
She squeezes my hand. “She sounds very special.”
“Why don’t we talk about what happened back at the hotel?”
Emma turns to the window. “I don’t want to.”
“Will you tell me why you lied to me at least?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were afraid of flying, but you have a passport.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of flying.”
I take off my sunglasses and turn to her. “So you do have that fear?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “No, you’re right. I was lying.”
“But why, Cooper?”
“I lost my parents so close together. I figured the longer I held on to the urn, the longer my mom was still with me.” She shakes her head as if she hates her explanation. “So stupid.”
I squeeze her knee. “No, it’s very sweet, but you realize it’s not true.”
“I’m so confused. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be in the same place as my daddy. We scattered his ashes in the Redwoods.”
“Emma, she is with him. The bones and blood and dust we leave behind don’t mean a damn thing. In Afghanistan, there were times we had to leave men behind because we couldn’t carry their bodies. But we said a prayer and moved on. They found their way home because their souls were still intact. The soul will always find its way back. You have to trust me on this.”
She wipes a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“I’m not. If we were on a plane, we’d miss this.” I jerk my head to the road surrounded by trees and the valley below us. “And not just the scenery.” I gesture between us. “Probably this, too. Emma, I’m not exaggerating when I say, regardless of all the fucked-up stuff that has happened, these have been some of the best days of my life.”
“Me too, Aiden.”
A part of me thinks she’s lying again because she’s had such a good life despite the last year. But the way she looks at me, her expression so genuine and pure, I cannot doubt her.
“Now let’s talk about you freaking out.”
“I’m calling for more space, too.”
“Sorry, space is limited. Besides, I was there, remember? I already know what happened. I need to understand the reasons behind it.”
She shifts away from me, gripping the globe tight like a basketball. “I’m just trying to figure out my place in the world. My methods might be…”
“Stupid.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s one word.”
“Why don’t you throw the world out the window for a second?”
She arches her brow. “That’s littering.”
“I don’t mean literally.”
“Okay.” Her laughter is hollow, laced with cynicism. She lifts the globe. At first, I think there is a crack at the equator, but it breaks into two clean pieces. She’s been holding it together the whole time. “I was holding the world and I broke it.”
You may have broken your world, angel, but you opened mine.
I take each piece and toss it in the back. Then I clasp her hand, kissing the underside of her wrist.
“Let’s figure it out together this time.”
“You don’t have to fix it for me. I can fix my own stuff. I’m working it out in my head. I’m sorry you have to witness my fucked-up decision-making process. We had great sex, a few amazing days, and we said some really beautiful things to each other. I don’t expect you to rescue me. I don’t need rescuing. I’m not going to force you into something you’re not ready for.”
Oh, Emma, you rescued me already. Let me just return the favor.
“Emma—”
“I don’t want charity. I’m not one of those girls who needs someone to take care of her. And I’m certainly not imagining what our babies would look like if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Our babies would be beautiful. Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?
“Quit your pain-in-the-ass pride and just listen up. It’s not charity. It’s me caring about you, and being your friend. It’s me not wanting you to go to Sudan.”
“I wasn’t going to Sudan.”
“Sudan’s a fucking metaphor!” I sigh in frustration, gripping the wheel harder.
“Oh, okay.”
“Move to the Sanctuary. Butte Falls is a nice town. You like small towns, right?”
“I love small towns. Are you asking me to move in with you? It’s too soon.”
“Not exactly.” But you wouldn’t be away from me, either. “You can have your own place there. You won’t get paid much, but it does come with room and board. You saw the cottages.”
“They look nice.”
“They’re small but sturdy homes. The job is rewarding. You already know that. There are a few colleges close by, too. You could schedule shifts around school if that’s what you want.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I’m not done yet. “Let me finish. It’s not just because I want you close to me, even though it would be the biggest bald-faced lie I’ve ever told if I said I didn’t. It’s not because of the situation you are in, even though it requires immediate resolution. It’s definitely not because I think you can’t do it on your own, Emma. You’re a survivor. I figured that out a while ago.”
“Then why?”
“You’re suited for it. Most people aren’t, but you are. You’re strong and compassionate. The dogs love you, and dogs know how to read a person’s soul. You have a good one, Cooper. What do you think?”
She smiles her first smile of the day. For a brief second, I get lost in it. I think it’s such a nice smile that it can fix a cracked world. She kisses my cheek. “I’d love to.”
I turn my head and kiss her lips. A horn blares behind me. I step on the gas to close the huge gap I’ve left between the SUV and the car ahead of us.
“You gotta learn to keep your hands off me. I’m driving.”
“Sorry,” she says, falling back on her seat, her smile growing. “Could I adopt Faith?”
“Yeah, Emma, we can make it official, but I think you belonged to her the moment you rescued her. There’s an old Indian proverb that says if you save a life, then you are responsible for it.”
“I’ve heard it. I always thought it was backward, but it does make sense now.”
She’s quiet for a while. We are both absorbing the sharp turn our lives are taking.
“And us?” she asks.
“And we keep doing us.” My fingers relax around the wheel for the first time since we left the hotel. Truth is, I want her in my life. Hell, I want to make a life with her. It scares me how much I want it.
“That’s good because I really want to keep doing us, too.”
“So it’s settled?”
“Yes.”
There’s a loud, solid swoosh of two people exhaling at the same time.
Amy, I don’t know why you sent me your daughter, but I’m thankful you did. I pray to God you approve and I’m doing the right thing by keeping your secrets.