Page 33 of Heart Strings
The third course comes and everything is delicious. It’s a shame I can’t fully appreciate it since my attention is pulled between my parents and Aidan’s grounding touch.
My mom picks at her food with disinterest. I remember the headache medicine I’d left to retrieve and pass her the bottle.
“That should help,” I say. She nods mechanically.
“Tracy,” my dad says. “Everything okay?”
“She’s fine,” I answer curtly. He wasn’t concerned with her well-being when he decided to show up without notice. “Mom, let’s call it an early night.”
After we each give Lark a hug, I escort my mom to her room in silence. We both pretend like I can’t see her chin waver as she slips off her shoes.
“Try to get some rest,” I tell her in my best “caring physician”tone. My bedside manner still might need some work, though, because she responds with a faraway, “Yeah, good night.”
I slip into the hallway and her door clicks shut behind me. Going back to the garden and facing my dad again sounds awful. Is it too rude to simply grab my dessert and hide in my room?
On my way back, I dig my phone out of my clutch and notice the screen is covered in notifications. Aidan had tried to warn me before I stepped into the garden. So had Lark. The realization makes my heart lurch in my chest. Footsteps thump down the hallway. I jerk my head up, anticipating another conversation with my dad that I simply don’t have the bandwidth for right now.
But it’s Aidan. A tiny sigh of relief passes my lips.
“I just saw your texts,” I say softly.
“The second you stepped into that garden, I could tell you hadn’t read them yet.”
“You tried. And I appreciate it.”
Aidan leans down and examines my face. I self-consciously swipe at the moisture collecting in the corner of my eye.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “That was quite the ambush for you and your mam.”
“Yeah, I just walked her to her room. She doesn’t feel well.”
“And you? Are you okay? Hell of a move from him, showing up like this.”
“I’m okay. I’m upset for my mom,” I answer automatically, despite the long-suppressed emotions roaring back to life since dinner began. Protective. Jagged. Hurt. Abandoned. “He tried to talk to her during dinner and I had to run interference—”
Aidan’s brow furrows. “Why not let them sort it? Protect yourself.”
The question catches me off guard.
“I just don’t want her to feel trapped into talking with her ex when she doesn’t want to.” I look at him pointedly, though I know the comparison isn’t really fair.
“You’ve managed it,” he says.
“I didn’t want it to ruin her weekend. Seeing your ex can bring up lots of feelings. I’m sure it’s worse to do it at a wedding when you have memories of marrying them.”
“I’d imagine so,” Aidan agrees. “But I know he didn’t just hurt your mam.”
My teeth grind.
“Put out your hand.” Aidan pulls something from his pocket and holds out his fist.
My only movement is a lifted brow.
“I’m not an eight-year-old trying to surprise you with a frog.”
“I dunno. You were fully dressed in a creek earlier today. A frog in your pocket wouldn’t be completely out of left field.”
“Give me your hand, Lo.”
