Page 62 of Almost True
Relief gusted out in a sigh. “Okay. Good. First, I guess I should tell you how we met...”
And I did. I told her about loving Viv as a friend first and then falling more and more for her as we moved through college up at Utah State. By the end, we knew we were both coming back here, and we knew we didn’t want to be apart. We were married for years before we had Luca, our miracle baby she called him, and then had three years together.
That’s when my life changed in ways I’d never imagined. A nightmare come to life, I lost her and lost myself for a long time, too. When I choked up telling Maddie about the days Luca wouldn’t stop crying for her, she’d gone silent, too. I composed myself after a few seconds. “Sorry. Remembering that time still gets me.”
I heard her sniffle on the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you went through that, and I’m so sorry Luca lost his mom. She sounds wonderful.”
I nodded, eyes glassy again. “She was. She was my best friend, and I miss her every day. But I’m not half a person anymore.” I breathed through the ache for a moment before continuing. “I remember thinking I’d never feel whole again—that I’d be this version of me walking around with a gaping flesh wound, my chest torn open and my heart mangled.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“I hope you don’t ever have to. But I’m not there anymore. It wasn’t one lightning bolt of clarity or some realization that I’d love again or whatever. It was more the inevitable passage of time and dulling of that constant agony. And I can say that we are well-loved. John, his brother, his parents, even many of the locals who were here when she died… they try to smother us.”
She chuckled like I’d hoped she would. “And your parents?”
What used to hurt only released a dull ache now. “They retired to Florida. They were here for us the first year and a half, but they’d been planning to leave before the accident. They’re good people, but they’re older and were ready to start their new life as retirees in a warmer place. I don’t blame them, though I wish Luca had more of a relationship with them.”
“And her parents?”
I smiled even as I sighed. “I love them. I do. But as I’ve mentioned, I feel this… obligation to them. To make up for what they lost. To make up for how they had to help with Luca when I couldn’t get out of bed. I know I can’t ever repay them or make up for losing their only child, and yet there’s this gut-level feeling that it’s up to me.”
She was quiet again for a moment, then hummed. “I can see why, I guess. But I hope you’ll let yourself off the hook. And I hope they’ll agree to one of the offers.”
That had me exhaling roughly. We’d received two very solid offers on the farm and they were dragging their heels even more than they had been—or, Rich was, anyway. “Me, too. I think we’d all be a lot happier, especially if we found someone who’d really love the place. I think that friend of Wilder Saint’s could be a great option. He seems like he’s ready to put down roots here. I like the idea of it going to someone who’s going to make a life from it, and who’s also seen a lot of hardship. I get the sense that he needs the space and the trees for himself as much as he wants them for the business.”
“That does sound like a good match. Rich doesn’t see it?”
I sighed again, which tipped me off to the fact that I needed to move on from this topic. Too much sighing was always a bad sign. “I don’t know. But… never mind him. It’s getting late. I appreciate you letting me talk about her. It’s kind of an odd thing to tell the woman you’re dating about your wife, but I hope…”
What did I hope? I couldn’t put that into words.
She saved me from having to. “I’m honored to hear about her. I’m so glad to be here with you, and I’m grateful you’ve given me this glimpse into your past, and your present. And I’m honestly so glad you got to love someone as amazing as she was. I guess that probably sounds like a line, but I mean it.”
I swallowed past a lump in my throat and worked to keep us in lighter territory. “You’re not really one to use lines, are you?”
She laughed softly. “No. I don’t suppose I am.”
“Lunch tomorrow?” I asked, knowing for sure I wouldn’t last until the weekend without seeing her.
“I’d love it. Just text me.”
“Will do. Night, Maddie.”
“Night, Aidan.”
The line went quiet, and I let my head fall back on my pillow. Last year, I’d spent the day feeling the loss, but honestly, I’d thought about Maddie. We’d met nine months before for a matter of hours and it was the first time I’d thought I might actually find someone again. My first encounter with a woman who I was both attracted to and interested in. And yes, the reprieve from her knowing my history helped, but it wasn’t just that, as our time together lately proved.
The fake date that rolled into the Night in Bloom real date… those, too, had given me a glimpse of what could be. What was… for now.
Tonight, I was closing out the day feeling the familiar ache of missing Viv, but also like she was with me in a new way. Maybe just telling Maddie about her had done that. Maybe remembering how devoted John and my aunt and uncle had been to us helped.
Or maybe it was sharing this huge piece of myself with a woman I wanted, for whom I could easily care deeply, and not have her want to save me or heal me or do anything but accept me. To accept my past and a life I’d loved, but lost.
I wouldn’t dare put my growing feelings on her, but tonight, Maddie had cared for me well. Maybe even loved me by letting me share with her.
Whenever this was all over, I’d remain grateful for this night.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
