Page 134 of Phishing for Love
No, I won’t believe that. I can’t.
How is one person so touched by tragedy?
With a fierceness that steals my breath, I wish I’d known Aaron before life ruined him. Before tragedy hollowed him out and snatched away his hope of love and happiness.
“You can’t blame yourself. These things happen.” It’s the lamest explanation and I feel ashamed I had the gall to even offer it to him, but what do you say to a man who believes that anyone he loves will be taken from him? Who believes that if we’re in a serious relationship he’s handing me a death sentence?
Life doesn’t work like that.
I sit for a moment considering my response. At last, I say in a hushed voice, “Even if something happens to me, I’d rather have a year with you than nothing.”
He shakes his head, rejecting my declaration. “I want you to live a rich, full life,” he says, the words sounding as though they’re torn from his throat. “I want you to grow old and be happy and play with your grandchildren.”
I close my eyes against the pain of his statement. The irony. He thinks that by leaving me he’s giving me all that, but he doesn’t grasp how bleak life will be without him. He doesn’tunderstand that I’ll spend the rest of my life living in the shadow of a great and consuming love.
I know, with every fiber of my being, Aaron is my soulmate, the one who completes me.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too. And I never thought I’d love someone that way again.”
He leans over the console and cradles my face in his palms, his thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to memorize every detail of my face. While it makes me feel seen and special, it also leaves me worried. You only try to memorize something if you think you’re leaving.
Lowering his head, he touches his lips to mine, so soft and light. I close my eyes as he deepens the kiss, like he can’t get enough of me. I match him hungrily because I can’t get enough of him either.
Only a fool would fall for someone like him. Broken. Damaged. Off limits.
Looks like I’m the biggest fool of all.
In the days and weeks that follow, as we inch closer and closer to November when Aaron’s contract ends, my feelings for him grow deeper, not less. I’m hopeless at protecting myself. Whenever I’m in his presence, I feel an invisible tug, my eyes seeking him out, my body turning to him like a plant straining for the sun.
We’re in a strange kind of blissful limbo, avoiding any discussions that involve the past or the future. We are two people living manically and desperately in the present.
I know Aaron has the capacity to love big. In truth, I think that’s why he hurts so much. Because he had loved so hard and now he’s left with a heart held together with duct tape. And the tape is peeling.
I want that big, beautiful heart. I want to tape up whatever needs taping to prevent any pieces from tearing away. I want to somehow make that heart whole again.
When I tell Grandma this at our Tuesday evening dinner, she looks at me with compassion shining out of her eyes and says gently, “It sounds like Aaron needs saving from himself, but you can’t do the saving, honey. You can throw him a life preserver, but he’s the one who has to grab it and hold on. He’s the one who has to have the strength and the will to pull himself out of the water and into the boat.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
On a Friday night, with a little over a week left in October, I open my front door and make my way down the hallway to find Aaron sitting in my living room in the dark, holding a tumbler of what smells like whiskey, staring at a blank wall. It’s no surprise to see him in my house. I’ve given him a key and he sometimes lets himself in to wait for me, especially if I’m working late.
What’s different about this time, though, is the defeated slump to his posture that immediately tells me something is wrong.
He must hear me approach, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. He tips his head back and drains the whiskey.
With dread radiating through my body, I deposit my purse on the kitchen island, draw in a jagged breath, and switch on a table lamp. The room is thrown into shadows. Ash is nowhere to be seen. He probably senses what’s coming and is hiding.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask Aaron, my voice trembling. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Looking up, he gestures to the couch opposite him. “Sit, Tess. Please.”
In the half light of the room, the air is so thick with his sorrow it’s choking both of us.
I perch on the edge of the couch, clasping my hands in my lap to hide their shaking. I allow my eyes to wander over him. He’s tired and sad, and I love him. Sometimes, I feel as though I know him better than I know my own body. But sometimes, like now, he’s a stranger to me.
I knew the first time I laid eyes on him that this man was going to upend my world. I just didn’t know he was going to break my heart doing so.
