Page 82 of Make You Stay

“Your nothing and my nothing are two different things. Go ahead, keep talking.”

“After the show, I motioned to Chloe to join me in the back room. But Barbara got there first and planted one on me. Chloe saw everything and told me she didn’t want to speak to me anymore. She wouldn’t even let me explain.”

“You want my advice?”

“When has my wanting it or noteverstopped you from giving it?” It’s the truth. Enid has long told me her opinion on things in my life. Why change now?

“I’m only going to say this once. Consider it tough love, from me to you. Give that woman a child. She’s amazing, drop-dead gorgeous, smart, and she adores our girls. She also adores you, for some reason or other. Stop screwing up, Aidan. I promise you will regret losing her.”

Hopping to my feet, I pace the carpet. “Why do you think I played that song? Hell, why do you think I wrote it? I’m trying to win Chloe back. I tried last night, reassuring her I want what she wants. That I would give heranything. She stopped me last night, and after the Barbara debacle, who knows what will happen.”

Enid stands, grabbing her coat. “Since when do you let anything stand in the way of what you want?”

“I’m scared, Enid,” I admit aloud for the first time. “What if I’m not enough?”

“You’re more than enough. You are a wonderful man, and I know you love her.”

I nod in agreement. No contesting that statement.

The wind howls against the window, and despite the warmth in the house, I shiver. “You’re welcome to stay here. The roads are a mess.”

“It’s only a couple of miles. I’ll be fine. I expect you to be next door within ten minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” After offering Enid a hug, I watch her pull into the snow-laden streets.

My ex-wife is right. Go big or go home.

Time to win the woman who owns my heart.

Chapter 18

Chloe

Icollapse against my door, my body sliding to the floor as the tears are finally given their due. Somehow, I held it together for the ride back to my house, namely because Enid doesn’t need my petty worries on top of her mammoth issues.

A broken heart is child’s play compared to what she’s dealing with, even if she knew I was lying when I told her—about forty times—that I was fine.

But Enid opted not to pry. She reads me well, and she knew I wasn’t up for speaking about it yet. Perhaps never. Instead, she dropped me in my driveway with a hug and a promise to call and let me know she arrived home safely.

After a few additional moments on the floor, wallowing in my own misery, I stand, the anger overtaking the anguish.

Screw Aidan. He doesn’t deserve my tears.

He didn’t deserve them when he broke my heart, chiding me for wanting a baby and telling me to settle for a dog.

He didn’t deserve them on those lonely New York nights when I lay in my apartment, missing the feel of his arms around me.

He certainly doesn’t deserve them now. Not after I found Barbara’s lips attached to his, right after he played a song which I foolishly believed was written for me.

That’s the trouble with assumptions—you believe what you want to believe. You can convince yourself of any story, provided it suits your narrative. If you want to believe a man loves you, you will see all the little ways he does. The opposite also holds true.

When I landed in Asheville the other day, I held the belief that Aidan and I were done, a blip in the matrix of relationships. But he appeared to feel the opposite, telling me everything I wanted to hear until my heart, desperate to find a reason to believe him, did just that.

I went to the bar tonight with the idea we would reconcile, and somehow, through a shift in the universe, we might even pursue a future together.

That concept lasted until I walked backstage and found him and Barbara kissing, and I realized that reality and dreams rarely walk hand in hand.

At least Aidan’s actions answered one question. The house goes on the market as soon as the blizzard moves out of the area. I’ll hire someone else to finish the reading nook because that man will never set foot in here again.

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