Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Brooke chuckled as he rolled his eyes, but she grew serious again. “I didn’t say anything, and maybe I should have. But our relationship wasn’t like that, and I couldn’t see telling you my feelings, so I kept my mouth shut. Still, I wanted you for so long, I already had those girlish dreams of happily ever after before we slept together.”
He raised his head and met her gaze. “I had no idea.”
“I know. I guess the point is, maybe I put hopes on you that weren’t fair. When you said you didn’t want to be together, you crushed my dreams, but they were my dreams. Not yours.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I know. It’s a surprise to me, too.” The words came as a shock to her, too, but they’d spawned from an unconscious part of her that just maybe was accepting some responsibility for the debacle that had happened.
He reached out and clasped her hand. “Looking back, it really does feel like I could have done better, no matter how much I didn’t realize about your feelings.”
She nodded. “That’s true. But let me accept some of the fault. You didn’t lead me on. I assumed things were more than they were.”
He groaned. “You weren’t. I felt everything for you. I just needed to leave.”
She swallowed hard and asked the question that had been gnawing at her for years. “Why, Aiden? Why did you need to leave so badly?”
Chapter Eighteen
Why had Aiden felt the need to leave? He’d had a job most graduating seniors would kill for, a family he loved and who loved him back. Brooke had been his best friend at the time he sent out the résumés. He’d always loved the news. Loved journalism and chose that as his second major. But he’d lived in New York, could have taken an apartment in the city, and applied for news media jobs at home.
He’d already revealed the other reason he’d wanted to leave to his father. If he was going to reach for a future with Brooke, he needed to tell her the truth.
“Given your friendship with Fallon, I’m sure you know the details of how my mother died.” He glanced at Brooke, who nodded, but the crinkles around her eyes told him she didn’t understand the correlation. But she would.
He drew a deep breath and went on. “That night, Dad was away on business. Remy was supposed to have dinner with Mom, but he had a shot with a girl he liked, so he canceled. Mom stayed home. Fallon was upstairs asleep and I was away at summer camp when it happened.” There was no reason to rehash the murder, not out loud and not in his head.
“Oh, Aiden. The story is so tragic. Alex is such a good man and the whole idea of an angry client…” She shook her head, obviously choosing not to speak the horrors out loud, either. “But what does that have to do with your need to travel?”
He dipped his head. “Guilt.”
“What?” She reached out, touching his shoulder, and he glanced at her. “Why would you feel guilty?”
“Because if I was home… if I’d been there…” He shook his head. “And because I wasn’t, she was killed. Once I understood what had happened, as I got older, the idea of getting away from New York and the memories held more and more appeal.”
Unfortunately, he’d learned he couldn’t run from his problems and pain.
“Aiden.” Her voice sounded determined, not soft. “You were twelve years old. What could you have done against a man hopped up on drugs and determined to take revenge? Even if you were home, it would have meant your family lost two members, not just one.” She clearly needed him to see the situation from her eyes.
And he did. Finally. After he’d hurt her, after he’d left his family, and after he’d been away for so long, he’d returned home and realized the same guilt had followed him around the globe.
“You’re right. I see that now. Dad and I had a long talk about it when I came home.”
Her gaze softened. “I’m so glad you were able to open up to him. What did Alex say?” she asked, leaning forward, listening to every word he said.
He shifted on the corner of the bed. “He said there wasn’t anything any of us kids could have done to prevent the tragedy. Remy felt guilty for canceling plans with Mom, and I couldn’t handle being away, but it’s like you said. Maybe we would have been killed, too. Nothing can or could have altered what happened.”
She rose to her feet, stepped across the carpet, and walked to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you told me.”
He returned the hug, holding her tight and breathing in her warm scent. “It feels good to get it out.”