Page 58 of Down the Aisle
Whatever turmoil churned inside of Eliza never subsided as the days went on.
Things haven't been sailing too smoothly since the night Asher called me “Dada”. Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't upset about that by any means. If anything, I was more than elated, and I still felt the same pure joy whenever Asher called me that. I was worried about Eliza and how she took all of it.
Every time I brought things up to her, she'd brush me off, which I hated. I never pushed her about the issue, even though I wanted to. I could practically see her visibly wince every time Asher called me his dad, but she refused to talk about it. Shy of manipulating her somehow or turning it into an ultimatum with punishment (which would be the completely wrong thing to do), I didn't know what else to do besides give her time and space to arrive at things at her own pace.
"What's got your panties in a bunch?" my friend Rowan asked with a mocking sneer.
"Pretty sure that's my question to you, considering how you're here." Lincoln City was quite a bit of a drive from Seaside, and I might call the police captain a friend, but we were merely acquainted because of his cousin, Max.
With the way his face dropped with a heavy sigh, I was sure I got him back good. Soon, an awkward silence filled the area until Max cleared the tension with his throat. "Come on, guys, we're all on the same level here." He chuckled awkwardly, bouncing his eyes between his cousin and me.
Unable to help it, I coughed out a curt laugh before sipping at my drink. "Oh, please, the almighty police captain of Lincoln City could never be on the same level as us no-good mafia thugs," I snarked, flashing a dirty scowl at Rowan.
Max's cousin made it damn clear in the past that he didn't appreciate us doing what we did, but he left us be because we didn't create any problems for him, nor did he have any cause to arrest us. Well, that and Max was his good cousin who had done more good than not for Rowan.
Straightening my face out seriously, I peered at him past the rim of my glass. "So, what brings the good captain around?" He only ever showed his face if there was some big celebration that Max dragged him to.
Well, there was the occasional visit from Rowan if very shady business was involved, or if he needed something shady done for the better good. "Who do you need implicated this time? What confession needs some pulling? Or do you need someone gone finally?" I mocked him with a smug smirk, leaning back in my seat at the armchair across from him.
Rowan's jaw ticked with a click of his tongue, and his jaw clenched for a second before he threw down a manilla envelope on the coffee table. "That's payment for later…" he grumbled, averting his eyes from me.
Max's hands clapped against his thighs, snagging my attention. "Rowan needs some lessons on how to charm a woman, and I suggested you because you're the most charming guy in the whole state," my friend deadpanned with a sheepish smile. "And I thought, 'Hey, why not kill two birds with one stone' and whatnot because we were kind of getting stuck with our Eliza case."
My eyes narrowed sharply at Max as the nasty feeling surfaced and chewed at my sternum. "Get to the fucking point, Max," I demanded in a low voice.
Holding his hand up, Max leaned back in surrender. "I was having some trouble with pulling some files, so I asked for Rowan's help, given his knowledge and expertise." His smile fell with his long sigh.
"You better start from the beginning before I chuck this drink at you," I threatened somewhat playfully, clinking the ice in my glass for extra effect.
"Long story short, I was coming up with some roadblocks with the facial aging and recognition program, needed to work some of the kinks out, so I turned to Rowan for some help pulling some things…" Max's face lit up with interest, his little flat frown turning upside down a little too much for my liking. "Now, I'm pretty confident with the information, but again, take shit with a grain of salt and whatnot."
Reaching out, Max picked up the envelope Rowan plopped down, waving it in my face rather tauntingly. "Gotta say, your girl is interesting." There was an edge of sympathy to his intrigued voice that hooked my interest fully.
Setting my drink down, I reached out and snatched the file from Max. Keeping my eagerness hidden under a collected exterior, I pulled the contents out and slowly flipped through them.
Never thought I'd be excited about some ink on pressed wood, but I felt like I'd finally hit the jackpot. To be fair, I did because my Eliza has been nothing but a mystery to me thus far. Well, correction: everything about her life and history has been a mystery. I've no doubts about her personality and attitude being faked, not with how vulnerable and genuine her eyes were whenever I gazed into them.
"And before you ask, yes, it's all true," Rowan said, his voice low and weighted with frustration. He let out a huff, leaning back as if the confirmation had drained him. "I called a buddy of mine on the force in Idaho Falls to fact-check, and he verified everything Max and I uncovered about your girl." The way he said it—your girl—carried a bitter edge, but I could tell it wasn't directed at her. It was the frustration of chasing shadows for so long. "And before you say anything, my friend's solid. Actually…" He let out a sharp, humorless snort. "He can't stand the piece of shit she's married to. From what he says, nobody does."
Elisabella.Elisabella Stone.
The name felt foreign and familiar all at once, as though it both confirmed and unraveled everything I thought I knew about her. My gaze dropped to the file in my hands, a storm of papers filled with details I hadn't dared imagine. Reports, histories, fragments of a life she'd hidden so carefully. It wasn't everything—I knew that much—but it was enough to paint a picture I couldn't ignore. Enough to finally give a name to the woman I loved beyond reason.
“And before you ask,” Max interjected, his voice cutting through the tension, “I've got every shred of Elisabella Stone's life boxed up on your desk, ready for you.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, not looking up, my focus locked on the file as if it held the answers to all the questions she hadn't been ready to give me. Frustration and relief churned together in my chest, a storm of emotion I couldn't quite settle. She'dbeen a mystery to me from the start, a puzzle I couldn't solve but couldn't let go of either.
And now that I finally had the truth in my hands, one thing was clear—I'd still choose her. Every time. No matter the name, no matter the past, she wasmine.
After a moment of somewhat tense silence, I peered over at Rowan. It was sudden, but the change of topic was needed. "Quit being an ass to her. If this is still the same girl, the one you bullied throughout all of your guys' childhood and school years, then lay off." The man didn't have a lick of luck when it came to dating and courting partners with how rough and tough he was.
Well, maybe that might be a bit harsh to say. He had a game, just not when it mattered.
"Take her on a fucking date, whatever she likes. Dinner and a movie, movie and a dinner, shopping and meals, a picnic, hike, hike and a picnic, take her shooting if that's her thing. Honestly, the options are endless. You just gotta put your little brain cells into it." Sometimes, I felt a little bad for the poor, fumbling man when it came to his relationship endeavors.
Groaning exasperatedly, Rowan slumped in his seat on the couch, throwing his hands up in defeat and letting them drape across the back of the leather furniture. "I can't just take her out on a fucking date," he bit out with a frustrated scoff.
Lowering the papers, I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why not?" Seriously, what was so hard about shoving a girl into your car and dragging her out to a restaurant?
