the ovary I had to have removed at the age of twenty due to a large ruptured cyst. It simply wasn’t something you shared with a man you weren’t seriously dating.
He let me give him what I could, just like I did for him.
By the time the sun began to dip behind the trees and the yard was shaded and cooling, Aidan offered to build a campfire so we could stay out back.
I let him and loved watching him bend over in his perfectly fitted jeans while he arranged the logs, started the fire, and then pulled two deck chairs over to the fire pit near the back of my yard. I used it frequently in the summer, sometimes by myself with music playing from my phone when I needed to relax, but mostly when I had the girls over and we drank too much wine and made s’mores like we were still teenagers. Last summer, Declan and Tyson also joined us when they could.
There were nights I craved the quiet paved and landscaped area—alone with my thoughts, my music, and the crackling of firewood.
It relaxed me in a way nothing else could, but nothing could beat the sight of Aidan walking out of my sliding door, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Thank you,” I said as he pulled the stopper out of the already-opened bottle of wine and handed me a glass. I stared at the burning, dancing embers in the fire pit, trying to enjoy the heat from the flames and the silence in the air besides the chirping of the cicadas.
I freaking loved my yard.
When Aidan broke the silence as we both sipped on our wine, he managed to stun me.
“He talked about you.”
He
…Aidan hadn’t talked about Derrick all day except when he told me about Mandy. Nothing. Not when he’d been young, not more recently.
“Always thought you were nice,” he continued, “and pretty.”
I forced myself to take a small swallow of my wine, unable to look at him, but feeling my fingertips buzzing with unnamed emotion.
Quietly, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it over the crackling fire and chirping bugs, he kept going. “He wasn’t wrong.”
My lungs expanded until they burned. I blinked. Tears fell down my cheeks before I was able to stop them.
There was sweetness in his words and pain in his voice.
Seeing him so broken over remembering his son, even if he was being nice to me, slammed the entire tragedy to the forefront of my mind.
His loss.
Shane’s loss.
The school’s loss.
Everyone who knew Derrick had lost so much. Such a great kid, gone, all because of some completely pointless accident.
Where was the justice? The fairness?
Shame rushed through me, choking me. I was crying, sitting next to a man who’d lost his son, who’d given me a compliment—and I couldn’t handle it.
I jumped up from the chair, needing space. Or a stiffer drink. More chocolate, maybe.
I didn’t know what I needed, but I couldn’t sit there anymore, feeling all the things my mind was unable to process, yet I couldn’t say any of it because compared to what Aidan was going through, it was all so damn minuscule.
“Hey.”
I jumped from the burning contact of his hand wrapping around my wrist.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Aidan stood in front of me, concern thick in his eyes and that same damn sadness that was so apparent all the time.
I hated it for him.
Despised it. He was such a good man. None of this was fair.
My lips parted when he reached toward me, his thumb gently swiping beneath my eyes. He stared at the tears on the pad of his thumb before dropping his hand.
“I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“I don’t always know why I cry, either. Sometimes I’m thinking of him and laughing and before I know it, I’m a fucking wreck.”
Oh God. If hearts could be shredded to pieces, mine would have been at my feet.
A sob hitched in my throat.
Aidan pressed his lips together and stared over my shoulder for the briefest of moments before he bit down on the inside of his cheek.
His chin wobbled and more tears fell from my eyes.
Crap. If this
He let me give him what I could, just like I did for him.
By the time the sun began to dip behind the trees and the yard was shaded and cooling, Aidan offered to build a campfire so we could stay out back.
I let him and loved watching him bend over in his perfectly fitted jeans while he arranged the logs, started the fire, and then pulled two deck chairs over to the fire pit near the back of my yard. I used it frequently in the summer, sometimes by myself with music playing from my phone when I needed to relax, but mostly when I had the girls over and we drank too much wine and made s’mores like we were still teenagers. Last summer, Declan and Tyson also joined us when they could.
There were nights I craved the quiet paved and landscaped area—alone with my thoughts, my music, and the crackling of firewood.
It relaxed me in a way nothing else could, but nothing could beat the sight of Aidan walking out of my sliding door, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Thank you,” I said as he pulled the stopper out of the already-opened bottle of wine and handed me a glass. I stared at the burning, dancing embers in the fire pit, trying to enjoy the heat from the flames and the silence in the air besides the chirping of the cicadas.
I freaking loved my yard.
When Aidan broke the silence as we both sipped on our wine, he managed to stun me.
“He talked about you.”
He
…Aidan hadn’t talked about Derrick all day except when he told me about Mandy. Nothing. Not when he’d been young, not more recently.
“Always thought you were nice,” he continued, “and pretty.”
I forced myself to take a small swallow of my wine, unable to look at him, but feeling my fingertips buzzing with unnamed emotion.
Quietly, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it over the crackling fire and chirping bugs, he kept going. “He wasn’t wrong.”
My lungs expanded until they burned. I blinked. Tears fell down my cheeks before I was able to stop them.
There was sweetness in his words and pain in his voice.
Seeing him so broken over remembering his son, even if he was being nice to me, slammed the entire tragedy to the forefront of my mind.
His loss.
Shane’s loss.
The school’s loss.
Everyone who knew Derrick had lost so much. Such a great kid, gone, all because of some completely pointless accident.
Where was the justice? The fairness?
Shame rushed through me, choking me. I was crying, sitting next to a man who’d lost his son, who’d given me a compliment—and I couldn’t handle it.
I jumped up from the chair, needing space. Or a stiffer drink. More chocolate, maybe.
I didn’t know what I needed, but I couldn’t sit there anymore, feeling all the things my mind was unable to process, yet I couldn’t say any of it because compared to what Aidan was going through, it was all so damn minuscule.
“Hey.”
I jumped from the burning contact of his hand wrapping around my wrist.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Aidan stood in front of me, concern thick in his eyes and that same damn sadness that was so apparent all the time.
I hated it for him.
Despised it. He was such a good man. None of this was fair.
My lips parted when he reached toward me, his thumb gently swiping beneath my eyes. He stared at the tears on the pad of his thumb before dropping his hand.
“I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“I don’t always know why I cry, either. Sometimes I’m thinking of him and laughing and before I know it, I’m a fucking wreck.”
Oh God. If hearts could be shredded to pieces, mine would have been at my feet.
A sob hitched in my throat.
Aidan pressed his lips together and stared over my shoulder for the briefest of moments before he bit down on the inside of his cheek.
His chin wobbled and more tears fell from my eyes.
Crap. If this
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