Chapter Twenty-Three

AMELIA

Amelia: Good morning.

It’s the same text I’ve sent every morning I’ve woken up this week.

Aaron: Good morning, baby. Dream of me?

And that’s the same response I’ve received.

When Aaron said he wanted to take it slow, he wasn’t kidding. We see each other briefly in the morning, text throughout the day, and then at night, he either makes me dinner or I make him dinner. He doesn’t kiss me, he only holds my hand, sometimes he’ll touch my leg if we’re sitting on the couch, but other than that, he’s very hands off.

He was NEVER like this when we first started going out. He was all over me, couldn’t get enough of me, but now, the respect he’s showing me is incredible. I’m not going anywhere, but a part of me wonders if he’s guarding himself, thinking if he pushes too quickly, I’ll disappear. Having Aaron back in my life on a consistent basis, and not feeling guilty about enjoying it, causes me to crave to see him more. That is what I used to feel.

I stretch my arms above my head, the comforter slips down and exposes my naked body. I don’t normally go to bed naked but after Aaron once again tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead, I needed some kind of release, so I stripped down, pulled out my vibrator and thought of his big, strong body hovering over me. Took me a minute before I was saying his name under my breath.

Feeling a little naughty, I pull up the camera on my phone and take a picture of myself. I pose in a position where he knows I’m naked but can’t see any of my naked bits. I want to send it to Aaron, but stop myself. He is waiting for me. But he’s not waiting for me to strip, so we can make love all night. He’s waiting for me to be ready to make love to him for forever. And I will respect that. Physically? Yes, I want him with every fiber of my body. Emotionally? Mentally?

I spend the next half hour taking a shower and getting ready for work while thinking about my upcoming Christmas break and my visit with my dad tonight. As the play is in a week and a half, we spent last night putting all the pieces of wood together. We’ll tackle painting next week, but the volunteers have been painting all the buildings, so we won’t have to do much.

Looking in the mirror, I curl my hair into long tendrils, letting the loose waves fall over my shoulders. I don’t spend much time on my makeup, just a little mascara and bronzer to get me through the day. I change into a pair of black leggings and put on an eggplant-colored wrap dress and black flats. I check myself in the mirror and adjust my dress so it sits properly on my body.

Pleased, I head downstairs where I smell coffee. My lips twist to the side with a smirk. When I turn into the kitchen, Aaron is leaning against the counter, arms crossed, and a cup of coffee in one of his hands. His hair is still wet from his shower, and he’s wearing his worn work clothes but looks handsome as ever. And seeing him in my kitchen, the first person I see to start my day, I know.

I’m ready.

“I don’t think as a property manger, you’re allowed to come into my house anytime you want.”

He pushes off the counter and walks toward me, pure testosterone dripping off him with each step. God, he’s so sexy.

“Just in case I need to check on something or if anything illegal is happening on the property, I’m allowed to enter at my own will, says in the lease.”

I move in closer to him and press my hand on his chest, hoping for a little kiss. “Anything illegal happening here? Anything you need to check on?”

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “I think you know the answer to that.” When he pulls away, he hands me a coffee cup. “I have to get to work. We have a lot of molding to nail today.” He nods at the coffee. “Just the way you like it.”

“Thank you.” I take a sip and love how he knows how I take my coffee. It’s a small thing, but it matters.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and gives me a smile before he starts to walk away.

“Hold on.” I set the coffee down and press my hands against his chest, loving how strong he is beneath my palms. “What are you doing tonight?”

His hands circle me and pull me close, engulfing me in his fresh soap smell. “Depends on how late we have to work tonight. The boys and I might have to pull some extra hours.”

“Oh.” I bite my lip and second-guess asking him my question.

“Why?” He tilts my chin up so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “Did you have something planned?”

“Not really.” I toy with his shirt. “I’m going to go visit my dad and I wanted to ask if you want to go, but don’t worry about it. If you have—”

“I’ll be there.”

“What?” I ask, a little stunned.

“I would love to go with you. Just let me know when. I’ll grab some spare clothes to change into at work, so I’m not visiting your dad in paint-covered jeans.”

“Are you serious? You’ll go?” I don’t know why I feel so surprised. Aaron loves my dad. I’m still disappointed that Trey intended to pass my dad off as a lost cause.

“Of course I’ll go.” Aaron hugs me tightly. “Your dad means a lot to me, Amelia. He was my role model, the man I strove to emulate. Of course I want to visit him. I’ve missed him. I’m glad he’s close by so I can see him. If he’d like that. As long as he’s comfortable seeing me. I read that it can be confusing with Alzheimer patients if there are too many changes too quickly.”

My eyes well with tears, and I press my cheek against Aaron’s chest. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“No need to thank me. I’m glad you asked.” He presses another kiss on my head and then pulls away. “I have to go. I’ll see you later. Have a good day.” He tips my chin up and takes off, leaving me feeling all tingly and warm inside while I prepare my breakfast.

I’m in an Aaron fog when I receive a text message. Smiling, I look at my phone, and I’m shocked when I see the name across the display.

Trey: Amelia, can we talk? I totally fucked up. Please, I want to try to fix this.

I freeze in my kitchen, my cereal getting soggy as I stare at my phone, speechless. I haven’t heard from Trey since the weekend we broke up. What’s changed? And does he really think there is a way to fix this? I thought I made it clear when I left that there was no way I was changing my mind about sticking close to my dad. I still don’t understand why he urged me to leave him yet had no intention of changing his mind about our future. He sent me away under a ruse that he wanted what was best for me, only to attempt to pin me down. Aaron sent me away to make sure I thrived.

I can’t imagine Trey has had a change of heart, given his promotion and the new apartment.

Feeling a little sick to my stomach from being slightly blindsided, I put my phone down and ignore the text. Honestly, I think Amanda was right. I’ve already closed the emotional door to Trey. I can’t process this right now. It’s been over a week since I left him, yet I’m not a mess. I’m disappointed in his choices, in the sadness associated with our breakup, but I’m not heartbroken.

I need to move so I’m not late for work. Catching my breath and steadying my heart, I focus on my day, pushing thoughts of Trey’s text out of my head.

***

Aaron: Want me to grab dinner for tonight? I can pick up some Nirchi’s pizza and bring it to the nursing home.

Amelia: Only if you want to. Don’t feel like you need to.

Aaron: I’ll get half Buffalo and half pepperoni since your dad is a classic man when it comes to his pizza.

Amelia: He’ll like that. Hopefully he’ll eat it.

Aaron: If he doesn’t, it’s no big deal. Maybe I should get some half-moon cookies too.”

Amelia: Now you’re just trying to suck up.

Aaron: And that’s bad because . . .

Amelia: Don’t you want to play hard to get?

Aaron: Not even a little. I’m showing all my cards, babe. I want you and I’ll do anything to make sure you’re mine again.

Amelia: And half-moon cookies are your way to my heart?

Aaron: It’s a start.

Amelia: It’s a good one.

Aaron: I better get back to work. I’ll see your pretty face tonight.

Amelia: Don’t hammer your finger.

Aaron: Lol, noted.

This has been our week. Fun texts that affirm our friendship. I know his intent, but he is also being patient and thoughtful.

***

I pull into the parking lot of the nursing home and spot Aaron sitting on the back of his truck with the tailgate down, his long legs dangling, and a huge smile on his face when he sees me. His hair is wet and styled, he’s changed into a pair of khaki chinos, and a navy-blue button-up that makes his eyes pop. When he hops off the back of his truck, I see he’s tucked in his shirt and is wearing a belt. I smile to myself remembering the outfit he wore when he first met my father. He learned from his “mistake” and wears a belt this time. And it makes me sad that Dad may not notice.

I grab my purse and when I go to reach for my door, Aaron is already opening it. He greets me with a huge, heart-stopping grin. “Hey baby.”

“Hi, you.” I look him up and down once again. “You look very handsome. When did you get a chance to take a shower?”

“Stopped at the gym on the way here and used the showers.” He shrugs shyly. “I didn’t want to smell bad.”

A laugh pops out of me. “I’m sure you didn’t smell bad.”

“Babe.” He gives me a pointed look. “I just finished doing manual labor for eight hours straight—I smelled.” He helps me out of my car, our hands linking together. He pulls me in for a quick hug and takes me over to his truck. He opens the passenger side door, never letting go of my hand and picks up a sheet of pizza from Nirchi’s with a bakery box on top. Half-moon cookies. This man is too good.

“You didn’t have to get pizza and cookies.”

“I wanted to.” He squeezes my hand and looks at the building. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Uh . . . the last time your father spoke to me was before we broke up.”

“You afraid he’s going to punch you?” I joke, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“A little.” He chuckles.

I pull on his hand toward the entrance. “Come on, it’ll be fine. And if he does decide to punch you, let him.” I give him a sly smile.

When we walk into the nursing home, we’re immediately hit with a wave of heat. It’s unseasonably warm today, but the nursing home is always at least ten degrees warmer for the residents. Aaron leans down to me and whispers, “Holy fuck, it’s hot in here.”

I chuckle and say, “You might want to roll up your sleeves.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding.”

“Amelia, it’s wonderful to see you,” Darra at the front desk says. “And who is this young man who’s joined you?” She eyes Aaron and smiles.

“This is my friend, Aaron,” I say, feeling awkward calling him my friend, but I’m sure as hell not going to say boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend for that matter. That would be even more awkward.

“Aaron, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Darra.”

“Darra, what a pretty name. Pleasure’s mine.”

My brows cinch together in confusion as I look up at Aaron. Look at Mr. Charmer over there. My, my, my.

“Oh, isn’t he dreamy?” Darra gushes and puts a pen on the sign-in sheet. “Just sign in for me and you can head upstairs to visit your father.”

“Thank you.” I don’t agree with her on the dreamy part, because I’m not ready to admit that out loud in front of Aaron. His ego is already big, and I don’t need to inflate it any more than it is.

All signed in, we head to the second floor. The nursing home is quiet today, not much going on, and I wonder if it’s because the holiday is over and visitors have gone back home. That makes me sad, because it must be so lonely for them. It’s one of the reasons I moved closer. Dad deserves more than biannual visits.

“It’s nice in here,” Aaron says as we make our way to my dad’s room. “I’ve always thought nursing homes were cold and uninviting, but it seems like a comfortable residence.”

“It is and the staff is loving. I’m glad Dad is taken care of here.” I eye Dad’s room but turn toward the nursing station where I spot Heather. I wave at her and in return, I get a sad smile. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Aaron asks, concern is his voice.

Heather approaches. “Amelia, how are you?”

“Good. How’s Dad?”

The sad smile fades and a disheartened look crosses over her face. “It’s been a bad day. He’s been very confused since morning so much that he lashed out and we had to sedate him again. Last time I checked, he was sleeping.”

My hopes for a good visit fall flat. I’m trying to stay positive, but it’s so hard to tamp down my sadness with every visit. I just want my dad back.

“I’m not sure he’s up for visitors, sweetie.” Heather squeezes my arm, and I can feel the tears starting to form.

I know he hasn’t been well for a while, but I didn’t think it would get to where I would be turned away, or at least have a nurse suggest I don’t bother.

I think of things my father has told me through the years, what he would do in this situation . . .

Leaning down and pressing his lips against my ear, Aaron whispers the two words that were on the tip of my tongue, the two words my dad raised us on. “Who cares?”

He gets me.

He knows my dad and loves him. This feels right.

I squeeze my eyes shut as tears drip down my face, those two words rolling around in my mind. He’s right, who cares? Taking a deep breath, I say, “I still want to see him if that’s okay.”

“Go ahead, sweetie. You know I like to prepare you.”

“I appreciate that.” I pat Heather on the forearm and turn toward my dad’s door, Aaron holding my hand tightly, following closely behind.

When we reach the door, I peek through the window and see him sitting on his bed, his back to us. What must he be thinking right now? Does he know where he is?

I turn to Aaron and say, “I’m going to go in first to see how he is. Do you mind standing out here?”

“Not at all. You do your thing, Amelia.” He squeezes my hand before letting go, giving me one last reassurance that he’s here for me. This is the first time I’ve visited with someone, and it’s incredible how less lonely it seems.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and set my purse by the door. He doesn’t hear me, or at least he doesn’t show that he does, so I clear my throat and say, “Hey Dad, it’s Amelia.”

He stays still. Doesn’t even flinch.

Sighing, I walk forward so I’m in his line of sight. He doesn’t glance in my direction. Instead, his eyes fixate on the window in front of him.

“How are you, Dad? Heather told me you didn’t have a very good morning.”

Nothing.

“Is everything okay?”

No answer.

Well, doesn’t seem like he’s going to be responsive once again, which scrapes at the open wound of my heart. Will this be the new norm? Should I accept this truth so my heart will stop splintering in half with each attempt at conversation?

With a heavy heart, I walk to the door, open it up and spot Aaron leaning against the opposite wall, pizza and cookies still in hand. He lifts off the wall and asks, “Everything okay?”

I shake my head just as my emotions win over once again, my throat choking up on me.

“Ah, babe. Come here.” He walks up to me and wraps his arm that’s not holding the pizza around my shoulders, pulling me close into his chest.

“We should leave. Maybe we can give the pizza to the staff.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I’m good with that.” He pauses and then says, “I just want to say hi before we leave. I haven’t seen him in so long. I know he’s not the same man I used to know, but I still want to look him in the eyes, to let him know I’m sorry for the pain I put you through.”

“That’s not necessary, Aaron. He probably doesn’t remember.”

“Can I at least say hi?” His eyes plead with mine, and I can’t say no. My dad means that much to Aaron, and I’m thankful I’m with someone today who is as gutted as I am. He understands my agony.

“Of course. Set the pizza on the table inside his room and say hi.”

Aaron solemnly nods, and we walk into my dad’s room. He sets the pizza down and quickly rolls up his sleeves. I watch in fascination how his tan forearms flex with each roll, his tattoos popping off his skin, so dark, yet vivid. Bad timing to be turned on by arms, but it takes away the pain running rampant through me for a few seconds.

Giving me an unsure look, Aaron presses a kiss against my temple and walks to my dad and squats in front of him, his large body eclipsing my dad. His approach is sweet, caring. It makes me want to wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug. Aaron places one of his hands on my dad’s leg and says, “Hi, Mr. Santos.”

My dad doesn’t flinch.

Aaron continues. “It’s Aaron, in case you don’t recognize me. I’ve developed some muscles, I know, I was trying to bulk up in case I ever ran into you again. Didn’t want to get my butt handed to me like you said you would if I ever hurt Amelia.” Nothing. “I think I could take you now, though.” Aaron smiles, and I sadly shrug my shoulders when he peers at me. Chuckling to himself, Aaron motions around his head and says, “I love what you’ve done with your hair. No doubt the whole bullseye on top of your head is fun for birds when you’re outside.”

My dad went incredibly bald over the last few years. Aaron’s comment makes me snort laugh. I place my hand over my mouth, and Aaron smiles up at me. We both share a little chuckle over this horrible situation. Normally, if someone joked about my dad’s hair, I would defend him, but Aaron and my dad enjoyed a special relationship where they would tease each other all the time, so Aaron’s comment makes me feel somewhat normal during this otherwise melancholy moment.

Looking up at me, Aaron winks. My heart stutters in my chest as my body feels like it’s floating into bliss. Dad might not be doing well, but at least I have Aaron here, supporting me. I feel less . . . alone.

“If you want, I can get you some Velcro shoes to go with that haircut,” Aaron continues, making me smile even harder. “I’ll steal them from one of the neighbors on my street.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

The room stills as Aaron and I both turn to my father, who is looking directly at Aaron, his brow pulled together, and a stern look on his face. Did he just . . .?

“I might be old, but I can still shove a stick up your ass to teach you a lesson.”

My hand goes to my mouth as Aaron stays in a squat position, almost dumbfounded.

My dad gives Aaron a once-over and then nods. “At least you have your shirt tucked in. Only took you a few years to figure it out.”

Still staring at him, Aaron doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t need to say anything, because my dad stands and yanks Aaron up by the arm. I didn’t know that was actually possible. The man is not small. I’ve lost hope that Dad would acknowledge Aaron, yet he not only spoke, but spoke with clarity and accuracy. It’s as though he’s lain dormant, and by some miracle, we’re getting to glimpse his beautiful heart again. How I’ve missed him. And Aaron’s face. He has tears in his eyes, and the sight of them is slaughtering my self-control. Aaron wears his heart on his sleeve, so right now, I’m seeing awe mixed with pain, mixed with joy.

Aaron is a few inches taller than my dad, but without warning, my dad pulls Aaron into a hug and says, “I’ve missed you, son.”

And just like that, the big-hearted, larger-than-life man who towers over everyone crumbles in my dad’s arms. His arms tighten around my father’s frail body and tears fall from his eyes as he buries his head into my father’s shoulder.

The connection they share doesn’t escape me. Neither does hearing my father’s deep voice once again. Feeling weak, I lean against the wall, hand to mouth, throat constricted as tears of joy fall continuously down my cheeks.

For what seems like forever, Aaron and my dad embrace. Aaron’s eyes squeeze shut and his grip tightens on my father as I lovingly watch them. And I know one thing. I love both of them. It isn’t until my dad pats Aaron on the back and says, “Do I smell pizza?” that Aaron releases his grip and laughs.

Wiping his face, he says, “I brought Nirchi’s.”

My dad points his finger at Aaron and says, “I hope you got pepperoni. You know I don’t eat that Buffalo crap that my Bedelia eats.”

“I got half and half, just for you.”

“Good man.” My dad pats Aaron on the shoulder and turns to me. He smiles and pulls me into his chest where he kisses me lightly on the head. “When did you get here?”

“With Aaron,” I choke out, shocked that somehow a switch has flipped on, and a lucid man has emerged. He’s more coherent than I’ve seen in a very long time. How long will it last? For now, I’m not going to worry about that, because even if it’s only for a few minutes, I have a piece of my dad back.

“It’s about time you brought that fella around. I thought he would never show.” Turning to Aaron, he asks, “Been working extra hours at the sanitation plant? Trying to save some money so you can finally ask my daughter to marry you?”

My heart catches in my chest. My dad’s perspective is from three years ago. I cringe wondering how Aaron is going to handle this.

But when he speaks, I shouldn’t have worried at all. “Yes, sir. I’ve been saving a lot lately. Don’t you worry, I’m going to marry your daughter one day and protect her for the rest of her life.”

“That’s my boy.” My dad smiles and grabs the pizza box, eyeing the bakery box. “Are those half-moon cookies?”

“Can’t have pizza without them.”

“Hot diggidy dog, we hit the jackpot today, Bedelia.” He licks his lips like a fool and adds, “Let’s dig in. I’m starving.”

My dad opens the pizza box and starts claiming pieces as Aaron walks over to me and bends down to speak into my ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life. Thank you for bringing me here, Amelia.”

I can’t help it. I stand on my toes and kiss him on the corner of his mouth. His face goes soft, his eyes hazy. “Thank you for being here, for bringing my dad back to me. This means everything to me.”

“You mean everything to me,” he replies, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

***

I shut my car door and shimmy out of the small garage in time to see Aaron pull into the conjoined driveway. My stomach flutters at the mere sight of him. It would be easy to think over the course of one week, I’ve done a complete one-eighty. I was in a safe, reliable relationship with a man I loved dearly. And now . . . I desperately yearn for Aaron. I’m in love with my ex. Again. It seems like a flip of a switch. But if I am completely honest, I knew it was feasible to open my heart again to Aaron after the night of the storm. His protective nature, his ability to pull back and not disrespect the relationship I had with Trey, and his insanely talented ability to have fun in what could have stayed a very awkward night proved his love for me. Had my heart known then, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go to the city at Thanksgiving. Had my heart not been pulled to Aaron, I would have driven to Amanda’s rather than back to Binghamton. Had my heart not been consumed by Aaron Walters, I would now feel pain and anguish instead of joy and peace. It’s not as if I simply fell out of love with Trey. That was a slower process, one I wasn’t completely aware of. It’s like my heart expanded to its full width as I accepted Aaron back into my life.

It’s almost like we picked up where we left off. I hate to admit it, but he brings out the best in me, a part of me no one else has ever been able to extract. And then today with my dad . . . it was difficult to avoid making a scene in front of him, as I thought I would fall to the ground in a puddle of emotion.

Aaron, the man I thought I’d marry one day, swooped into my dad’s room and made him smile again. They talked about Aaron moving to construction. Aaron didn’t say he owned a company, that would be too much to comprehend, but they joked about trying to get me a job where Aaron works, given my birdhouse constructing abilities.

It was . . . perfect.

Aaron hops out of his truck, his shirt untucked now and his hair a slight mess, as if he was running his hand through it all the way home.

“Hey,” I say shyly as I walk to him.

He closes his door and locks up his truck only to lean against it, his gaze fixed on me. “Hey beautiful.”

Getting closer, I stare at his blue eyes, so loving, so soulful, and yet there is still pain in them. He grips my hips and exhales. “God, I missed your dad.”

“I missed him too. Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

Aaron shakes his head, his lips turning up. “It wasn’t me. He must have smelled the Nirchi’s. That pizza has super powers.”

I laugh and bury my head against his chest. “That’s it; it was the pizza.”

I move my hands and wrap them around his waist and then up his back. I pull him into a hug, and he reciprocates the embrace; I love how his warmth surrounds me. Tilting my head back, I kiss his jaw and he visibly tenses, so I do it again and again, standing on my toes trying to reach him. When I reach up farther and press my lips on the corner of his mouth, he exhales and gently puts distance between us.

“You should get inside, it’s getting cold.”

Frustrated with him, I shake my head. “I don’t want to go inside.” I kiss him on the chin and he growls this time.

“Amelia, say goodnight.”

“I don’t want to.” I grab the back of his neck and pull him closer to me, despite his resistance. This time, I kiss the other side of his mouth. I love his mouth. I always loved kissing Aaron. He grabs my hips, but more to pry me away, not pull me in closer.

“Amelia,” he warns again. “Say goodnight.”

“No.”

“Yes, this isn’t the time—”

“Shut up, Aaron.” I pull him closer to me and place my lips on his. At first he goes stiff in my arms—perhaps out of disbelief that I’m actually kissing him—but once my tongue moves across his lips, he parts his mouth and melts into our connection, his body softening, his restraint no longer in check.

His hands run slowly up my back, cupping me closer until they tangle in my hair. He moans into my mouth, a moan so organic, so earthy. I need to kiss him.

But it’s more than a need to touch him, kiss him, love him. It’s as though my heart has woken up. It’s as though scales have been removed from my eyes, and I can see beyond the filter of pain and hurt. It’s obvious how much he’s always loved me. I clearly see he is the man meant for me. And I’m the woman for him. After the visit with my dad and the love Aaron has for him as well, I know it’s not just about us. We’re already family. The whole time I’ve been back home, he has stood by my side. He’s provided Aaron-shaped pillows to cushion my heartache. He’s watched and relearned things about me rather than assume I’m still the same girl he once dated. And if that isn’t one hell of a neon sign about how true love works, I’m not sure what is.

He asked for a second chance, but I think it should be me asking him for that second chance. He needs to know that.

The grip is so strong yet soft, his mouth urgent yet gentle, and his groans, guttural yet sweet. He’s holding back, and I don’t want him to.

I break our connection and lace our hands, pulling his away from my hair. I look him in the eyes and say, “Take me into your house, Aaron.”

He exhales a long pent-up breath and shakes his head. “I can’t risk—”

“You’re not risking anything.” I press my finger over his full lips. “I want this; I want us.”

“You want us?” he asks, almost sounding timid.

I nod. “I want us, Aaron.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and kisses me softly on the forehead before pulling me toward his house. Thank God. This is all I want right now, this man, me naked under him, his love pouring over me.