Page 66 of Everything We Give

She shows me her palm. “Not yet. I need a moment.” She goes to her roller case, lifts the luggage onto the rack, and unzips it.

Thank God. She’s not leaving. Yet.

My knees buckle. I back up, leaning my weight on the table. I roughly run both hands through my hair and lock my fingers around the back of my head.

Aimee digs through her case and removes her toiletries bag. “I’ve been up for twenty-four hours. I’m exhausted. I can barely think straight. I’m going to ...” She glances at the door, then the patio slider, and back to the bathroom. “I’m going to go in there.” She points at the bathroom, then lets her arm flop against her side.

My joined hands slip to the back of my neck. “Do you know how long you’ll be?”

“As long as it takes to figure out what I walked into.”

“There’s nothing between Reese and me.”

Aimee glowers.

“OK.” I nod. “I’ll wait.” I’d wait forever.

She walks into the bathroom and quietly shuts the door.

I listen for the shower, for the faucet to run, the toilet to flush. Anything to tell me she isn’t in there silently crying. I picture her sitting on the closed toilet, elbows on knees, face in her cupped hands, her shoulders quaking. My heart splinters because I’ve probably broken hers.

My stomach clenches and makes a gurgling noise. I feel pressure at the base of my throat. The faucet runs in the bathroom and I blow out a long, even breath, relieved she’s doing something other than sobbing. I shiver. Pushing away from the table, I cross the room to the thermostat and turn on the heat. My damp clothes are stiff and uncomfortable. They stick to my skin. Shedding my jacket, I proceed to strip. I’m down to my boxer briefs and stepping from my pants when the bathroom door opens. I look up from my hunched position.

Aimee’s eyes narrow and I slowly straighten. Her gaze drops. “Sex isn’t going to solve this.”

“I wasn’t ... I’m not ...,” I groan, exasperated, and kick aside my pants. I thrust a hand at the dirty clothes pile. “They’re wet. I’m just changing.” I put on jeans and a shirt, my torso shivering, skin clammy. I slide my arms into a hoodie and zip it to my chin.

Aimee frowns. “Are you feeling OK?”

“No,” I snap, shoving my fists into the front pockets. “I’m standing on the edge of Half Dome wondering when you’re going to shove me off.” Lord knows I deserve it. “Would you please listen to me? I want to explain.”

Aimee slowly shakes her head and returns her toiletries to her case. She zips up the luggage.

My heart knocks into my ribs. “Are you leaving?”

She turns around. “I’m not sure yet.”

I close my eyes. “Don’t go.”

“Do you see what I meant the other day when we drove back from Nadia’s? How I feel you’ve glossed over your history with Reese? It’s like you were holding something back. Is she the reason you left in such a hurry?”

“No! I had no idea she’d be here, let alone assigned to the story. She was waiting for me when I checked in.”

“It’s true, then, you were married.”

My shoulders drop. “Yes. For nine hours.”

“Nine—what?”

I cross the room to her. Only inches of air divide us. “It was a stupid decision during a drunken night full of them. You’ve got to believe me.” I lift my hands to her face, but I don’t touch her. My palms hover over her cheeks, hands trembling. “It meant nothing. She means nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter what it means. You should have told me.”

“You’re right.” My arms fall to my sides. I back up a step. “You’re right. I should have and that’s my mistake.”

“We’ve talked a little about your relationship with Reese. Why didn’t you ever mention you were married?” She searches my face and it takes me a moment to answer. A very long moment.

“Before I met you,” I begin, “I’d lost everyone important in my life. For years it was just me and my camera and the next destination. Then I saw you that night at the gallery. You were so beautiful in your black dress with your curls framing your face.” I touch her hair. “I saw in you what I had felt for years after my mother left. I was alone and totally out of sorts with my place in life. I felt like I had no purpose and that made for one reckless teenager,” I rasp, thinking of those hellish years. “But you smiled at me, and you let me buy you a cupcake, and I fell for you. I fell so hard for you. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt something important in here.” I press a hand to my chest.

---