Page 5 of His to Cherish
My heart skipped when he said my name. I wasn’t aware he knew I had ever been married. It wasn’t information I made known. And while we said hello and made pleasantries while around our group of friends, we didn’t speak about anything personal.
“No,” I responded. The air felt warmer and my hands balled into fists. I hated having to think about how my marriage ended. The day Cory came home from work and said he didn’t want to keep trying to have kids. He said he couldn’t handle the stress anymore of doctor’s appointments and specialists. What he meant was that he didn’t want kids withme,because six months after he walked out our front door, I ran into him in public, and was forced to meet his new, visibly pregnant girlfriend.
God that shit burned. My gut flipped as if I were at Target all over again that Sunday afternoon when I saw Cory walking through the store, his arm curled around his girlfriend, smiling at her when she held up a pink baby outfit.
Still, I blurted out the honest, humiliating truth before I could force the words back down my throat. “He cheated on me, got another woman pregnant, and then married her right after our divorce was final. I haven’t talked to him since the day he walked out of my house.”
“People suck.” Aidan said it simply, lacking the emotion that he deserved not to have on this day above all days, and I was pulled back to the present—to the reality of what he was going through. Compared to his pain, mine was minimal.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sometimes they do.”
“Derrick didn’t.”
He looked away, tossed his cigarette onto the patio, and snuffed it out under black, scuffed dress shoes. They weren’t a designer brand, and they didn’t look overly expensive. In fact, the entire suit looked completely out of character on him; I was used to seeing him in faded jeans, T-shirts, and worn work boots.
“No,” I replied. My voice was soft and shaky. “Derrick was amazing.” Tears threatened, because it was true.
Something kept me there for several long moments before I pointed my thumb toward the sliding door that I had exited several minutes ago.
“I should go.” I swallowed the thickness in my throat. There was no reason for me to stay, yet the last thing I wanted to do was go home to an empty house, be surrounded in silence, and relive the day from a week ago that was haunting me.
“Don’t.” Aidan stood up and walked toward me. He stopped several steps away and slid his hands into his front pockets. “Stay.”
Something about the vulnerability in his eyes along with the sadness made me pause.
I fought a small grin and failed. “There’s a lot of food to put away.”
Like he understood my need to stall, he gave me a reason to linger. “I could use the help.”
My heart ached with the need to reach out and comfort him, but I didn’t. He was like the wounded, abandoned animals I used to pick up on my parents’ farm. I’d never been able to turn away from anyone or anything that was hurting.
“Okay, then,” I said as he met me at the door to his house. He slid it open for me and stood back while I stepped inside, avoiding looking at him.
In any other moment, I would have enjoyed that. I would have liked to have Aidan open a door for me.
That day, I felt nothing except sympathy for a man who had lost so much—a man who was more than an acquaintance, less than a friend.
When we reached the kitchen, Tyson and Declan were there, Blue and Trina close by. All of them turned their heads in our direction as we entered, Aidan closing the door behind me.
A strange silence hit the room, and in addition to our friends, the remaining parents and students froze as they saw us.
“You okay?” Declan asked, looking at me and not Aidan.
I pushed a chunk of blond hair behind my ear and nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
We weren’t. I wasn’t, and we all knew Aidan wasn’t, but Declan nodded once before he walked to Aidan. They said their goodbyes after asking Aidan if he wanted them to stay.
Aidan said no to everyone, assuring them he wanted to be alone, but I didn’t think it was lost on our friends that I wasn’t preparing to leave.
After I hugged everyone, I stayed secluded in the quiet kitchen while Aidan said goodbye to the rest of the company, consciously stopping myself from staring at the fridge. Pictures of son and dad together in sports uniforms, and some with sandy white beaches in the background filled the fridge. Every time I saw one, tears burned in the back of my eyes.
There was also a calendar of the lunch menu and all of Derrick’s after-school activities. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it.
Hours later—after we tossed out the food Aidan knew he wouldn’t eat and separated the rest into individual containers, after the sun had lowered completely and the quiet set in—I realized there was no reason for me to delay heading home.
“Thank you.”
I nodded and dragged my purse strap up and over my shoulder. “I’m glad I could help.”
