Page 34 of Beneath the Midnight Sky
“I know that actions and time will prove you wrong, Aspen. But I also recognize that that doesn’t help you right now with this fear. When you’re feeling nervous or scared? Don’t be afraid to come to me and tell me. No matter the time or how silly it may seem in your mind, I’m here, Aspen. I’m here for all of it. Good, bad, broken, healed. I don’t care. I’ll glue you back together one piece at a time if that’s what you need. Or I’ll stand next to you and help you glue yourself back together. You tell me what you need, and I’m there.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead, wiping the tear that had escaped her eye before leaning back in my seat. “I’m here, little angel.”
She nodded and squeezed my hand. She leaned back in her seat, getting comfortable but not releasing my hand. Taking that as a positive sign, I put the truck in drive and took my girl back to hertemporaryhome.
16
I JUST NEEDED TO
Aspen
It had beentwo weeks since Rowan and I had lain on a blanket eating cheese and crackers, painting, and watching the stars shoot across the Colorado sky. To say the man was perfect would be the understatement of the century. I was truly just waiting for the other shoe to drop and something to be majorly wrong with him, because him beingthisperfect for me was just…unnatural.
He showed up at my work and brought me home, only staying the night if I asked. He made sure I ate more than chips and soda while on the clock, bringing me food whenever he noticed I didn’t have any. He took me to The Raven dancing with Ivy and Todd—who was back again and apparently here to stay. We’d been on a few more dates, always something new and different. Dinner, horseback riding, a local rodeo, and hiking through his family's ranch. He’d even shown me how he trained the bulls and the horses for the rodeos, which had no business being as hot as it was.
Rowan was sweet, kind, funny, and attentive, but not overbearing. Essentially everything I’d ever wanted in a man. I hadn’t met his family yet—I think he knew I was anxious about it, so he’d silently given me more time to adjust to the idea.
But his brother, Wyatt, had been able to confirm the calls were indeed Sam and blocked his number from calling me anymore. He also somehow updated my phone plan with a new name and address, so it wouldn’t be connected to me at all anymore.
I smiled to myself. I felt as if I could finally let myself relax for more than two seconds. Rowan had helped me realize that I could take a few moments and just be happy. Which was crazy, seeing as it really hadn’t been that long. I tried hard over the last few weeks to remember if Sam had ever made me feel this way. As if maybe, this was just the “honeymoon” phase—maybe it would all drop off, and Rowan would end up being just like Sam.
I shook my head quickly, rolling my eyes. In the five years I spent with Sam, he was never, for even a moment, anything like Rowan. It was hard for me to believe it was all an act, so I tried to shift my focus.
I took a sip of my coffee. It was my day off, and I decided to grab myself a treat from Buns of Delight. Today’s happiness was brought to you by my favorite coffee with extra whipped cream and a raspberry scone. The plan was to enjoy my treat, get in a couple of hours painting and laundry done, and then Rowan and I were having dinner at his place.
Smiling to myself, I unlocked the entryway to my apartment building and started up the stairs. It was shaping up to be a really good day, and I couldn’t be happier. I reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner toward my door, only to stop short. There was a piece of paper taped just underneath my apartment number. Walking forward, I pulled the paper down and opened it with one hand.
I read the note three times, my brain skipping around the entire thing over and over without fully comprehending, before it finally sank into my head what I was reading. My entire body went hot, and I couldn’t seem to get a full breath in. I looked up and down my hallway, not seeing anyone or hearing anything.
Hands shaking, I quickly crumbled the note and shoved it into my pocket, unlocked my door, and rushed through. I closed and locked the door, dropping my coffee on the floor, but I didn’t even care at this point. I just needed to—I needed?—
17
LET’S GO HOME ANGEL
Rowan
Knock.Knock. Knock.
My fist beat against the door for what felt like the millionth time in the last five minutes, but I knew it had only been the third time. The hallway was totally silent, and I knew I was more than likely being dramatic, but my gut said something was wrong.
I’d texted Aspen letting her know I was going to be a little late. Someone had fucked with the fence around the far side of the ranch again, so Oliver, Theo, and I had ridden over and fixed it before we could call it for the afternoon. However, she’d never replied or even opened the message. At first, I just assumed she’d gotten distracted with her painting and didn’t notice I’d texted her, so I hadn’t worried. But if that were the case, I would’ve heard the music playing when I got to the door—I heard nothing on the other side of this door.
“Aspen?” I hollered through the door, trying to keep my voice even and not sounding as if I was panicking.
I pulled out my key and released a deep breath. Worst case scenario, she was in there and rightfully shocked when I walked in. I’d have to figure out an excuse for how I magically had a key to her place. On the other hand, maybe she’d gotten sidetracked with Ivy and wouldn’t even be inside. Maybe she forgot about our plans. But then the anxious part of my brain said maybe she was hurt and couldn’t answer the door.
Yeah, not doing this in the hallway. I pushed the key in and unlocked the door. I walked in, a little surprised when I found myself standing in a puddle of coffee with a now-empty coffee cup from Buns of Delight in the middle of it.
“Aspen?” I hollered again. “Ya here, little angel?”
A smallthudbrought my attention to the bathroom, and I walked over, slowly pushing open the door.
“Aspen?” I said, quieter this time.
I walked into the bathroom and slowly opened the shower curtain. She was sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed, pressed back in the far corner. Her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, pulling them to her chest. There were dried tears streaked down her face, and her eyes were wide—staring at nothing, it seemed.
“Angel?” I whispered. I crouched down so I was in front of her and reached forward, gently rubbing her arm.
She jumped, letting out a small screech. Her arms dropped down to her sides, and she seemed to slowly focus on my face.
