Page 48 of Almost True
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Aidan
Ibreathed out slowly, willing myself to stay calm even though I didn’t feel it. “Rich, I know Viv loved this place. And I know you and Martha do, too. I want to do right by you all and make sure we get what this place is worth.”
My father-in-law had this way of frowning that made it look like his whole head was sad, and it shot me in the heart every time.
“I just don’t know about letting it go, Aid. I know we’ve talked and talked about this, but—”
“We have. The reasons we’re listing it are still the reasons we discussed, but these reasons have grown. I don’t want you toiling anymore. And frankly, I don’t want your future hanging on how bad the drought is. It’s only getting worse for the next ten years, and I can’t stand the thought of losing crop and you and Martha taking the hit. I won’t do it.” And my gut told me if we could just get past this, everyone’s lives would improve.
Somehow, his frown intensified, and another arrow notched, ready to fire and shatter my control. I blew out another breath. “Let’s just see what kind of offers we get. You don’t have to accept them. But I think we need to do this.”
He nodded, admitting temporary defeat for now. “All right. All right. There’s sense in seeing what comes in.”
“There is. Night, Rich.”
“Night, Aidan.”
And with that, he exited the small office building where I’d been buried for the last seven hours and would shuffle his way the half block to the home he’d lived in for forty-odd years. The house he’d raised Viv in and the place where he’d originally run the farm. They’d put in the small office and employee room a few decades ago, long before I’d joined the family, and I thanked God for that degree of separation. They could keep their home, and we could still sell the place.
If they’d actually accept an offer. Which I’d begun to doubt would really happen. Maybe that was the source of this dread creeping in from the edges.
Why don’t you try being honest?The voice, as usual, sounded like my brat of a cousin, John.
Why wasn’t I honest with my in-laws? I scrubbed a hand over my face and closed the laptop in front of me. Nothing else productive would get done tonight, especially not now that I’d let my mind wander off track.
As I gathered up my things and locked the building, I reminded myself: the reason I couldn’t tell them I had no interest in the business and wanted to live my own life was because I knew it would gut them. It would feel like yet another loss—no. It would actuallybea loss. Selling the farm was loss enough, and though part of me feared they were still holding out hope I’d “come to my senses” and want to take it over and have that be my whole life, I didn’t have the heart to outright destroy that for them.
Speak of the devil, John texted right as I got in the car.“You need to come home. It’s eleven at night and I want to go home. Your son is asleep and my guess is you’re not about to tell them the truth, so hang it up and get back here.”
I shot back saying I was on the way and drove carefully, window down, because sleep pawed at me and had been for hours. My day had started at five a.m. and while it’d been a good day, running into the farm issues and having yet another late-night heart-to-heart with Rich about its future hadn’t been on my list. It would be an insane week between a site visit for a new design project, managing the last pieces of Night in Bloom wrapping up, and making sure I actually saw my son while he was awake… I didn’t need farm drama, too.
But hell, could I blame them for being unsure? For dragging their heels? No. That was the brutality of it. I couldn’t blame them for not wanting to sell their life-long business even if it would give them—and me—freedom.
At some point, they’d see that. Hopefully when we had a handful of solid offers coming in and they got a glimpse of what was possible.
For now? I’d get home, get cleaned up, and let myself relive the few minutes I’d had with Maddie.
Just thinking her name sent a rush of warmth and anticipation through me. Her jeans and T-shirt had surprised me, but the second I’d seen her, I’d wanted to touch her. I’d had that privilege at her party in the alternate universe of our pretending to be together and now, bereft of that access, I wanted it all the more. I’d never had that compulsion to be near and touch someone until her. Even before, with Viv, we’d been friends first. Our love story was best friends who’d loved each other and started a family. We’d had a great marriage for the most part.
But I’d never felt this overwhelmingneed.Not like with Maddie. And the short drive back to my house had me almost on edge just remembering her smile, her curiosity about John and Dahlia, and how much I wanted to kiss her again.
Why had I resisted something with her so resolutely? Someone I had so much connection with, and who’d already proven to be better than I’d imagined? That was why I’d asked—John’s pushing had been the perfect excuse, as had the event itself. But more than anything, I’d asked because I wanted to.
Probably due to general exhaustion, or maybe it was a leftover bit of the fantasy that we’d spun together months ago and had revisited in a small way the other night playing out in my head. It seemed so possible, and in this moment, I wanted it. Whateveritwas, after parking in the garage, I sent a message to Maddie before stopping myself.“Any chance you’re free for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Crap,” I said aloud in the empty, quiet cab of my truck. Too late. I shouldn’t be asking her outagain, even though she’d said yes today. Too much, too soon, and coming on way too strong. And late.
I shoved out of the vehicle and made it inside without stomping up the stairs like I sometimes did. It wouldn’t wake Luca, but I still felt like a jerk doing it. Inside, John sat snuggled into the corner of the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose, book balanced on the armrest.
“Finally. Dude. You’re lucky I get to sleep in tomorrow.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He launched off the couch, book and glasses in hand. “You should be. You said ten at the latest. He was trying to stay up for you.”
The painful ache of knowing I’d disappointed Luca twisted through me. “I know. Rich was at it again, and we’ve had some other issues. It should be fine until after next weekend.”
