Page 80 of Almost True
Yes, Maddie had pushed me away, but we’d never planned out how things would look. We’d said only “we’ll talk,” and presumably then she realized it was too much for her. She had the bigger transition to deal with, the trauma to unpack, the identity to settle into. I had merely kept on going in my daily routines, but without her. It had been challenging, but I understood that what she faced when she left was monumental.
What kind of person would I be if I didn’t see that she might have reasons for her silence? I didn’t assume she had feelings for me the way I did her. In fact, the silence between us confirmed that she didn’t fairly effectively. But it didn’t make her unfeeling. I didn’t like that she’d had to wall herself off from life here, but again, she’d been through something life-changing, and then she’d had to return to her old life as if it hadn’t happened.
I couldn’t pretend I didn’t care she’d be here. There was no part of me that wanted to play that game. And as John and I slipped outside and left the bright yellow walls of Rise and Shine, I knew I wouldn’t.
“I wish you’d consider that seeing her might be bad. But if you’re really still in love with her, I guess I get it.” Hands in his pockets, he looked about as aggravated as he ever did.
“I appreciate you—”
“You know what? No. Because here’s the thing. You’re the best. The actual best person I know. And I refuse to accept that this woman disappears, no contact, no nothing, and suddenly waltzes back in here for… what? A weekend fling? We both know that’s not what you’re interested in and she’s got to know that, too. I don’t want you miserable after she leaves, and shewillleave. I didn’t take her for a cruel person, but this seems needlessly in-your-face.” His eyes raked down the street, then circled back to me. “Sorry. I know you love this woman. I just… I loveyou.And Luca. And I don’t want you hurt anymore.”
Well…damn.Fair points, all around, and I couldn’t ignore them. As much as I wanted to see Maddie and no part of me believed she’d purposefully hurt me, his words sent caution into my veins like an IV. The glow of possibility cooled with forced circumspection, and I nodded, patting his shoulder to reassure him I’d heard him.
“Thank you for caring so much. Thanks for loving us. And thank you for your opinion. I probably shouldn’t trust my instincts all that much with this situation.”
He sighed. “No, you have good instincts. I just don’t trustherall that much. And I’m happy to be the naysayer and bad guy who gets proved wrong, trust me. But just… go easy, okay? I know you’re going to see her, and the more I rant and rave about it, the more I get that you practically have no choice. Just… keep your expectations low.”
“Thanks.”
He grinned. “Of course.” His eyes flicked behind me. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, the she-devil is coming, and I have no desire to get reamed for merely existing.”
She-devil? I turned, andah, should’ve known. Dahlia tapped away on her phone without looking up until she nearly ran into me.
“Oh, shoot. Sorry. I shouldn’t be so absorbed in this thing, but I am dealing with a bride.” She widened her eyes.
She’d regaled me with many a story about bridezilla brides. “Fall’s a nice time to get married in Utah. That’ll be pleasant.”
Every trace of amusement fled her face. “Yeah, but having baby pink tulips in November?Pricy. And not because I’m trying to make an extra cash, but rather because getting sustainably produced tulips in early winter is just not really a thing that can be done without a higher price point.”
“That’s frustrating,” I said, wondering if the client just couldn’t understand the general concept of seasonal flowers and out of season things cost more.
“It is. But also… and this is a thing I don’t typically say to out-of-towners because they show up thinking they know, but also because I don’t often have the issue but… baby pink tulips in November?”
The horrified look on her face was so stark, I cracked up with a genuine chuckle. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Right? You promise when you get married you won’t make me use baby pink flowers in some fall or wintry scene?”
My heart swooped down low, then splattered on the ground. Why that offhand comment made me pause so dramatically when similar statements from her in the last few years I’d known her hadn’t fazed me a bit? Well, obviously. But also,ouch.
“I’m unlikely to marry again, Dahlia, but I solemnly swear I won’t ask for anything pink.”Would Maddie even like pink? She didn’t seem like she would, but it would depend on the season. Plus I—
With all my might, I shoved those thoughts away. I couldn’t be thinking about Maddie’s preferences for wedding colors because we were through. John had made a compelling argument about why I need to avoid her once she arrived. Yes, I’d see her, but no, I wouldn’t walk into the room expecting… anything.
“Are you excited to see Maddie? I’ve missed her! I’m so glad she’ll be back.”
Dahlia’s words shook me from my promises to myself and I must’ve looked shocked because she rushed to explain.
“I’m sorry. Should I not have said anything? I knew because she asked me to do flowers for the party at her house next weekend and the rest of the girls were invited, so they know.”
I just blinked back at her, stunned by the realization that Maddie had been in communication with her friends here and not me. This entire time, part of what’d soothed the burn of her total disconnect had been the thought that she’d needed to. She’d needed to focus solely on New York and life there, and not to worry about things here.
Me. Silverton. Her friends here.
But turns out, it’d only been me she’d shut out. Me and my son, who I suspected had also fallen for Maddie the first day he saw her and they gabbed aboutLord of the Ringsfor an hour.
Dahlia’s brows pinched and she squeezed my wrist. “Oh, Aidan, I hope I didn’t—"
“No. No. Not at all. I’ve got to run and get Luca, but I’ll see you soon.”
