I was in the middle of making the kids laugh as I read the first chapters of the second Harry Potter book when the common room door creaked open and Aidan appeared, throwing me an apologetic look. My pulse skittered at the sight of him, but I continued to read on, even as he got in Sylvie’s eye line and gestured for her to come to him. She did so reluctantly, and then I heard her say, “But I want to stay.”
That stopped me. I lowered my book. “Everything okay?” I called over to them.
Aidan straightened from being on his haunches, his hand on Sylvie’s shoulder. “Sylvie’s dad is on his way. He’s got the rest of the day off and wants to spend time with her.”
“Oh.” Disappointed I wouldn’t have my lunch with her, I nodded. “Well, of course.”
“But I want to stay,” Sylvie said, looking as disappointed as I felt.
I walked over to her and gave her a reassuring smile. “I bet your dad has a great day planned for you. And we’ll see each other soon.”
“Can’t I stay until the end?”
I looked up at Aidan and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was annoyed. Not at me but at Sylvie’s dad. He shook his head.
“I think your dad is on his way right now, sweetie.”
Her lip trembled and I thought my stoic little Sylvie might cry. However, she shook it off in a gesture that was so adult, it was unsettling. As though she were used to shaking off sad things and moving on quickly. “Okay. Next week?”
Again, I looked to Aidan for confirmation. He nodded and I smiled down at her. “Next week.”
She hugged me and then took her uncle’s hand. “Bye,” I said to him too. He gave me a frustrating nod of acknowledgment, and nothing more.
I bit my lip at the feeling of deflation that came over me when they left. Even though I knew better, I’d let Roddy’s opinion get to me. I’d started to think maybe he was right and Aidan had other reasons for wanting to get to know me. Maybe the sexual tension wasn’t all one-sided.
However, the fact that he could walk away from the few hours we spent together every week without seeming disappointed at all knocked me back down to earth.
I longed for Sylvie and Aidan like they were something I was addicted to.
Sylvie seemed to feel the same.
Aidan, however, probably really did see me as the slightly nutty young woman his kid had developed a surprising attachment to.
With them gone, I tried to get my head back in the game. I threw all my energy into acting out the book in my hand. I was good at pretending, so none of the kids were aware of my sadness as they laughed, gasped, and leaned in close to hear more about Harry and his friends.
After Jan came in to wrap up our time together, I said goodbye to everyone and got permission from Jan to use Aly’s bathroom to change in. Aly had her own private room, one that she was in more and more the sicker she got. I didn’t know how much longer she’d be attending my readings. That sweet kid was going to get worse before she got better.
I changed in her bathroom before Jan brought her back in, and then said goodbye to the nurses. The city had emptied of festival-goers, and I was contemplating buying a smoothie from the nearby Meadowlark Café when the sight of Aidan standing outside the hospital drew me to a stop.
He was on the phone and hadn’t seen me approach yet. What was he still doing here? Where was Sylvie?
I’m not going to lie—I thought about hurrying by him before he noticed me. I was unnerved by the way my heart galloped away from me anytime he was in the vicinity.
But he looked up, our eyes locked, and the whole world stood still. All I could hear was the rushing of blood in my ears.
And then Aidan telling whoever was on the phone that he had to go. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and walked over to me, stopping inside my personal space. I had to tilt my head to maintain eye contact.
“What are you still doing here? Did Sylvie’s dad come get her?”
Aidan nodded. “Aye. Thought I’d wait for you, though. See if you wanted to grab lunch.”
Shocked, I could only stare at him in reply. And then Roddy’s voice was in my head, telling me that Aidan was clearly interested in me. I couldn’t understand why someone older, sophisticated, gorgeous, and successful would be interested in me. And yes, I knew that didn’t say much for my self-esteem, but it was how I felt.
Before meeting him, I felt like I’d lived more years than I had. I was weary and tired and life had felt too much like a fight.
Then Aidan came along and he made me feel like I hadn’t seen anything of the world at all.
We were very different people, and I had no doubt wanting him was a bad idea … but my heart was racing, my skin was tingling, and there was a flurry of excitement in my belly. I felt alive. Awake. For the first time in forever, I felt anticipation fizzing inside of me and I didn’t want to lose that feeling yet.
“That sounds good.”
I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw relief flicker in his expression. But then it was gone and I only saw tension. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is it Sylvie’s dad?”
“This way,” he said instead, and I followed him to his SUV.
He opened the passenger door for me, something no guy had done for …well, ever … and I stood a little stunned by the gentlemanly action and how much I liked it.
“Nora?”
I looked up into his questioning eyes and hid my reaction with a smirk. “Just wondering if it’s smart of me to get into a car alone with a strange, older man.”
Aidan fought a smile. “You had to get that ‘older’ comment in again, didn’t you?”
Laughing, I stepped into the SUV, and he closed the door gently behind me. The car was spacious and luxurious inside. I’d never been in a Range Rover before and marveled at the comfort and style. It smelled of new leather too.
So, this was how the other half lived.
The driver’s door opened and unlike tiny me, Aidan slid into his seat. His seat was pushed way back to allow room for his long legs. Once he was clipped in, he put the car into drive and my eyes locked on his hands as they relaxed against the steering wheel. Like the rest of him, his hands were big, but they were definitely musician’s hands. Long-fingered, big-knuckled, but elegant somehow. A deep flip low in my belly made me squirm in embarrassment.
How could a guy’s hands turn me on so much?
“Cal is trying to spend more time with Sylvie.”
Jolted out of my sexual meanderings, I focused on his words because they were important. “Do you think that’s a bad thing?”
“No.” But his grip tightened momentarily on the steering wheel. “No.”
“Something about it is bothering you.”
We stopped at a red light, and Aidan looked at me. “I want stability for her. I worry that change right now could hurt her.”
“Change, how?”
“Seeing her dad more. Right now, he gets her two days every second week. But lately he’s been calling whenever he’s free and asking to see her.”
I wasn’t sure it was a bad thing that her dad was getting his head out of his ass and making an effort to see his kid, but I understood where Aidan was coming from. It was only a year ago that she’d lost her mom. “Maybe you guys should talk about it.”
“Aye, maybe.”
Silence fell over the car and I could tell he was lost in his thoughts about it. Wanting to leave him to muse, I watched traffic. And then I realized we were driving out of the city center. “So … where are we eating?”
“There’s a pub right on the promenade at Portobello Beach. It’s a nice day. I thought we should enjoy it while it’s here.”
That was something people said a lot around here. Scottish summers were mercurial beasts, with more rain than anything else. So when the sun came out, we appreciated and made the most of it.
“Sounds good.”
With Jim, I’d been comfortable with him from the start. Silence fell between us and I’d never felt the need to fill it. Similarly, with Aidan, the silence between us didn’t bother me. But the atmosphere between us wasn’t comfortable. I was too aware of his every movement, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he drove us east to Portobello.
“Sylvie cares about you,” Aidan said suddenly.
Warmth filled me at the thought. “I care about her. I won’t hurt her, Aidan.”
He glanced at me, his expression sincere. “I know that now, Nora.”
Relief moved through me. “Thank you.”
“I just want her to be okay.”
“It would be expected if she wasn’t,” I told him. “She lost her mom. You can protect her from everything, but you can’t protect her from that loss, and thinking that you can is only going to make you feel like you’ve failed somehow. And you’re not failing.”
He was quiet so long, I thought maybe my presumption had pissed him off. But he said, “How did you get so wise?”
When it comes to loss, I know what I’m talking about. I didn’t say it out loud. “Born that way, I guess.”
Not too long later, Aidan parked on a street facing the water. The sun glinted off the waves in the distance and I could see the promenade was busy with people eating lunch, walking their dogs, or just hanging out. The salty sea air immediately put me and everyone else in a good mood. It was a little past one o’clock so people were on lunch breaks, but with how busy the beach was, you’d think it was a weekend day.
“Do you think we’ll get a table?” I said. He insisted on opening my door and taking my hand to help me down.
Warm, calloused skin slid over mine and I drew in a breath at the sparks of electricity that danced up my arm. My eyes flew to his. Our eyes locked.
Did he feel it too?
As if I’d asked the question aloud, he squeezed my hand and closed the door once I was out of the car. To my shock, he kept holding my hand, leading me down the street toward the promenade.
“I called ahead,” he said. “I know a guy who works at the pub.”
I hurried to match his long strides, my heart banging hard inside my chest as I stared up at him. Feeling my gaze, he looked down and gave me a quizzical smile.
“What is it, Pixie?”
I decided to be honest. “You’re holding my hand.”
His smile transformed into that sexy one that cut me off at the knees every single time. “So I am.”
He didn’t let go.
I bit my lip to stop the girlish giggle that wanted to escape. “Is there a reason for that?”
“So you don’t fly off to Neverland, of course.” He winked.
I laughed. “Cute. Very cute.”
Aidan stopped to push open the door to the pub, his beautiful eyes filled with laughter.
I let him lead me inside. There was an area, a few steps up from the bar on our right, with tables at bay windows overlooking the water. The place was packed, no tables free at all.
“Uh …” A young woman with bright blue eyes and short, white-blond hair glanced at the seating and then back at us. “It’s about a thirty-minute wait right now.”
“Where’s Giggsy?” Aidan asked.
“Right here, mate.” We turned to watch a guy walking down a passageway by the bar. When he reached us, his eyes flicked to Aidan’s hand in mine and he shook his head laughing. “They get younger every time.”
“Fuck off, Giggsy.”
“Nice. And here I’ve been enduring bleeding ears from these buggers,” he thumbed behind him at the bar staff, “to reserve you a table last minute on the promenade.” Without saying another word, he strolled away and Aidan followed. He led us up the platform to a set of French doors that opened out onto the promenade, and to my delight, to one of only four tables set out there, looking over the water.
A sweet breeze blew up off the North Sea offering a light relief from the rare hot September sun. Gulls cried out as they flew high in the sky above us.
“There you go.” Giggsy gestured to our table and Aidan held out a chair for me. “What a gentleman.” His friend clapped him on the shoulder. Aidan rolled his eyes and Giggsy mock frowned at me. “Please tell me you’re legal.”
While I was mortified by the idea that I looked that young next to him, Aidan sighed heavily. “Have you got a death wish?”
“I can’t help myself. They get hotter and younger while mine get older and nag a lot. How do you do it?”
My irritation with this man grew by the second, not only because he kept referring to Aidan’s love interests like they were products on a conveyer belt, but because he was talking about me without even looking at me. Like I didn’t matter. Sexist … Grrr!
Giggsy grinned down at me. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”
“Water, please. Although if I wanted to, I could have a beer. For nearly five years.”
“American?” He turned to Aidan again. “Very nice. A different state from the last one, I imagine. Are you collecting states now? You’re my hero, mate.”
“Oi!” I snapped my fingers, drawing his attention back to me. “I’m not Aidan’s latest piece, so stop categorizing me as one, and stop talking about me like it doesn’t matter I can hear you. It’s disrespectful. Didn’t your momma teach you manners?”
I have no idea where the angry outburst came from. Maybe I wanted Aidan to know I wasn’t some bimbo to decorate his arm, in case that’s where his own thoughts were going.
Giggsy looked a little shell-shocked. He murmured to Aidan he’d get his usual and be back to take our order. I looked determinedly out at the water, unable to meet Aidan’s eyes.
“I’m sorry about Giggsy.”
I watched a couple walk hand in hand down the beach, each carrying their shoes in their free hands. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Nora, look at me.”
I did so reluctantly.
He appeared concerned. “I didn’t ask you out to lunch as a lead-up to sex. You’re definitely not my latest piece. I wanted to spend some time with you.”
Confused, I could only stare at him, hoping somehow to magically figure him out. If he didn’t want me to be a fuck buddy, but he wanted to hold hands and spend time together … well … shit. What did that mean?
Then something occurred to me.
And I didn’t know how I could’ve been so blind.
Maybe … maybe Aidan was lonely. “How are you?” I suddenly blurted. “We’ve talked a little about Sylvie and how she is after her mom passed, but we haven’t talked about you. Are you okay, Aidan?”
I could tell he was surprised by the question. He stared at me, almost as if he couldn’t believe I was real. I didn’t understand his reaction but I couldn’t ask about it because Giggsy came back with our drinks and to take our order.
It was too hot for a heavy lunch so I ordered light, as did Aidan, and I waited after Giggsy left to see if he would answer me.
Finally, he did. “You want the truth, Nora? Something I’ve never told anybody? I resented it. Nicky, my sister, being sick. Dying. Expecting me to take care of Sylvie. I’m a selfish bastard who actually resented her for it. I had no fucking clue what was ahead of all of us or what she’d go through in the end. I couldn’t see any of that for my own selfish inability to see past my fucking career.”
What he didn’t know was that I understood that resentment. “But you did see past it eventually.”
As if my lack of judgment took him aback, Aidan studied me thoughtfully. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly with emotion. “Our parents are not strong people. They could never handle the bad stuff. They hated that Nicky was a single parent, and once they moved down south, they made very little effort to come see Sylvie. They weren’t strong enough to be there for my sister. They only came at the end. After I watched cancer eat my sister alive. I watched her stay strong and brave and selfless to the end, caring only about me and Sylvie and what was to become of us. Those months changed everything.”
“How long was she sick?”
“About four months.” He gave me his profile, looking out at the water, and I saw the pain he kept hidden most of the time. “It was the end of January last year. She called me while I was in New York and asked me to come home. She wouldn’t tell me why but I knew that it had to be bad for her to ask me. When I got home, she told me while we were alone. That she had cervical cancer.” His eyes flew back to mine, blazing with anger and grief. “Nicky was a bloody nurse. She knew, Nora. She knew and she was so paralyzed by fear she couldn’t face it until it was too late. She could have lived. She could have survived. But she left it too bloody late.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
He squeezed it. “We told Sylvie together,” he continued. “You know how smart she is. She understood. I …” He swallowed hard, clearly lost in the memory. “I couldn’t stand it. I had to leave the room. Listening to her wail like a wounded—” He cut off, letting go of my hand to take a huge gulp of water.
Pain for him squeezed my chest tight.
“Everything stopped. Life as you know, it just stops. I moved in with them, got a full-time nurse, and I hired Olive Robertson to homeschool Sylvie so she could spend as much time with her mum as possible without missing out on school.
“Aye … I stopped resenting Nicky as I watched her die, but you know what’s worse, Pixie?”
I blinked back tears at the hollow emptiness in his voice, wondering how I could not have noticed how much pain this man was hiding. “What was worse?”
“I wanted her to die. Because anticipating her leaving was fucking agony. I just wanted her to die.” He shook his head, as if ashamed of himself. “Now that she’s gone, I can’t believe I ever thought that every single goddamn day she had to spend with us, with Sylvie, wasn’t a miracle. And I hate myself for wishing those days away.”
I was overwhelmed.
It pressed down on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
Because I felt like I understood this man more than anyone ever could, and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him tight and whisper in his ear he wasn’t alone. My heart had been broken before, and right there on the promenade, it broke again. Because I knew that this man and the little girl he loved so much were going to use me up and leave me in pieces.
And I didn’t know if I could let them. They could be my repentance, I could let them selflessly take what they needed and leave me shattered, and maybe in some twisted way, I’d find peace. Yet I still had some measure of self-preservation left that made me want to run away. Because people could disappoint you, and sometimes that was okay, but sometimes, like with my dad, it wrecked you so badly it changed you irrevocably. I’d made so many mistakes because of that, and I was afraid that when Aidan inevitably disappointed me, I’d lose what little of myself I still respected.
Aidan’s eyes narrowed on me and he said, “I haven’t told anyone that.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I’m being haunted, Nora, and I sense you know all about being haunted.”
Horrified that he could see that, I shook my head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Your name is Nora Rose O’Brien McAlister. You were born November 12, 1992, in Donovan, Indiana. You lived there until you were eighteen years old when you eloped with Jim McAlister to Vegas, and then returned with him to Edinburgh. You were married three years before he died of a brain aneurysm. You work at Apple Butter on Cockburn Street and you live alone in Sighthill.” He paused as I tried to recover from the shock of him having all that information about me. “I remember you, Pixie. I remember locking eyes with a pretty girl in a pub one day and then lifting her off the floor after her husband got into a fight with a drunk over her. And I remember seeing you again the next day in the supermarket, knowing you were too young and too married, and wanting you anyway. And maybe if it had been six months earlier, I would have been a selfish bastard and tried to seduce you, damn the consequences. But my sister was in a flat above the supermarket, dying, and I’d promised her and my niece I’d make pancakes with syrup.”
A tear splashed down my cheek before I could stop it. I brushed it away quickly, impatiently.
“I’m not the kind of man who would allow his ten-year-old kid to spend so much time with a woman and not have her investigated, Pixie. So don’t take it personally.”
When I didn’t say anything—I couldn’t speak for fear I’d burst into tears—Aidan continued, his words no longer fingernails picking at my wounded memories, but a knife, slicing them clean open.
“I know your secret, Nora. I know that you really become Peter Pan for yourself, not for the kids. What I can’t understand is why an obviously talented, smart, twenty-two-year-old with her whole life ahead of her would volunteer on her day off at a sick children’s hospital … because she needs to. Because you do need to, Nora. I see it. Is this more than your husband dying too young? Or did you love him that much you can’t see that life still goes on? Whatever it is, like me, you’re haunted. And I can’t help but need to know … what the hell happened to you?”
Roddy’s voice suddenly appeared in my mind. There’s nothin’ wrong wi’ lettin’ this guy get tae ken ye. Answer his fuckin’ questions if ye want tae.
Except I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I wasn’t ready. Telling him meant finally facing all that guilt I kept buried beneath my costume.
“I’m sorry.” I pushed back from the table, nearly overturning my chair. “I have to go.”
I left him there.
Alone.
After he’d given me so much of himself.
And I’d never liked myself less.