Page 53 of Fight or Flight

CHAPTER XVIII

“BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK?” I hiss as soon as Jenny sits down in her chair next to me.

We’re sitting in the garden behind the house where my friend decided to host her baby shower slash family barbecue.

Brody’s aunt and uncle arrived first to set the whole place up, bringing Jenny’s friend Amelia with a bunch of kids. I was surprised to see Nora among them but also relieved when she seemed to get along with the other children, even if she lacked the ability to fool around and laugh as they played in the garden. A few of Brody’s friends arrived soon after, and then Jenny’s former boss Garry with his wife.

And everything was great. Until the only person that I definitely wasn’t ready to face yet marched into the backyard, fitting perfectly among the rowdy group of people ready to smile at him. Then his eyes caught mine.

Aidan, who showed up with his friend Tommy, is presently sitting stiffly four places away from me, but since the table is round, he’s placed practically opposite my chair.

“What?” Jenny asks innocently and digs into her cake enthusiastically without sparing me a look.

“What is he doing here?” I glance at Aidan and meet his frightened eyes before he looks away.

“Who, Aidan? Oh, you know... Brody and I decided to invite all his workers since they spent so much time together at the construction. They are practically a part of the family now, so...”

“Oh, yeah? I thought Brody had at least four workers, if not more. How come they aren’t here?” I question and scrutinize the impassive way in which she eyes people around us from above her dessert.

“Couldn’t make it,” she replies easily, and I glare at her.

“You could’ve at least given me a heads-up.”

She tilts her head to the side but still doesn’t look at me directly. “Why? So you could run?”

Yes, that’s exactly what I would do. But I don’t voice that, not wanting to see her satisfied smirk. With a huff, I grab my plate and march toward the long table full of snacks, salads, and drinks, just to be free of my nosy best friend and Aidan’s scorching looks.

I balance my plate on one hand and start filling it when I feel a presence next to me. Close. Too close.

“Hey,” he says quietly, and I swear his voice awakens parts of me that stayed dormant since I was seventeen.

“Hey,” I say without looking at him, and continue to layer my paper plate with food that I surely won’t eat, but it gives me something to focus on.

“You look great, Claire,” Aidan says and shifts his body even closer to mine.

I scoff and try to move away from him, but a hand on my arm stops me. The touch of his warm palm on my cooled skin causes me to gulp as yet another bolt snaps in my head as my body remembers the familiar touch, and memories flood my mind.

“I never thought I would see you again. After everything... But do you think that maybe we could meet sometime and... talk? I know you don’t owe me anything, but...”

His voice trembles slightly in obvious nervousness, but I don’t help him out; I just continue to stare at my plate.

“I tried to contact you after, you know? To explain. I guess you know that, but I just wanted to see if-”

“I didn’t know that,” I cut in and, for the first time, look up at him. Of course, that’s a mistake.

Aidan was always very handsome, but he still had boyish features when I last saw him. Now, he’s more manly. The softness that his face held is gone, and there’s something new in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“You didn’t know? I mean, the letters were always returned unopened. And I couldn’t reach your phone or call your house. So I just assumed you didn’t want to hear from me, so I stopped after some time,” he rushes to say, and for a second, I have this weird need to console him. To take away all his doubts and worries.

But then I snap myself out of it.

“You assumed correctly. I didn’t want to hear from you,” I say slowly, and then glance at the hand that’s still on my arm and lift my eyebrows at him.

“Oh,” he backs away, looking as if I kicked his puppy, and again, I have to struggle with my true nature.

I’m not good at being mean, cold, or playing indifferent. I know if I stay any longer in Aidan’s presence, then I will crumble and crawl into his arms. That’s just who I am. A weak, spineless person who would gladly run to the person who hurt her, hoping that they won’t hurt her again.

“I thought maybe if you heard my side of the story, the hurt would lessen. I never wanted to be the reason you cry, Claire. The opposite, actually. It kills me every day to think that I caused you pain. If I could somehow take it all away, I would,” his eyes glaze over, and I can hear the truth in his words.

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