At Delilah’s reaction, Caleb furrowed his brows. “What? Mommy didn’t say it was a secret.”
“Your mom went for a walk?” Aidan persisted, surprising even himself with the urgency in his voice. “Where’d she go? How long ago?”
Caleb gnawed his bottom lip and glanced at Delilah before he answered. “She said me and Maggie were giving her a headache, so she wanted to clear her head. She just left.”
“But she’ll be back soon,” Delilah quickly added, closing the children’s book. “She said she’d be back in a bit. She just needed a little bit of alone time. That’s all.”
Aidan vaguely nodded, though he was barely listening now. He turned back around, his fatigue now forgotten.
Tracey had gone for a walk without him. She hadn’t asked him to come with her like she had every time in the past. But she had been acting strange lately. Almost like she was avoiding him. He had felt some tension between them while Emma Lynn had stayed at Harbor Hill, but it had been almost a week since she’d left, and yet the tension lingered.
“She doesn’t need you following her, Aidan,” Delilah called across the living room.
Mind your own business, he snapped inwardly then chided himself for the misplaced anger.
It wasn’t Delilah he was furious at or even Tracey, but the disoriented feeling that had plagued him for the past couple of days. Something between him and Tracey had shifted. He wasn’t sure what it was or why it had happened, but he was about find out.
He headed out of the living room. As he stepped into the foyer and grabbed his coat again, he felt a cool hand clamp around his wrist. He whipped around to face Delilah, who was glaring up at him.
“Aidan,” she whispered harshly through clenched teeth, “leave her be!”
“Stay out of it,” he warned, yanking his wrist out of her grasp.
“I don’t know what went on between you two, but I can tell it was something. I thought you would’ve had good enough sense not to try something with her,” she said, pointing her finger up at him. “She’s not like the other ones, Aidan, and you know it! Don’t try to make her into—”
He didn’t let Delilah finish. Instead, he yanked open the front door and strode across the porch. He shrugged into his coat as he headed down the steps at a near run, hoping to catch up with Tracey along the path they usually took to the waterfront.
He found her a minute or two later, hearing her first—the sound of gravel crunching under the soles of her shoes. Then he saw her shadowy silhouette set against the orange flame of the setting sun. She was walking on the dirt path. Her head was bowed slightly, and her hands were shoved into her coat pockets.
“Hey, Trace!” he called, startling her.
She jumped and turned. When she saw him, her face changed. He would have accepted surprise . . . maybe even anger. But instead, she greeted him with marked disappointment, like he was the last person she wanted to see walking behind her at that moment.
“I didn’t know you were out here,” she said as he drew close.
“I wasn’t. Caleb told me you went for a walk, so I followed you.”
She didn’t comment.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were headed for a walk? I could’ve come with you.”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought you were busy out back. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You wouldn’t have disturbed me. You could never disturb me,” he said warmly, reaching up to touch a lock of hair near her brow that had fallen into her face. But she tilted her head, pulling out of his reach.
“Or maybe I just wanted to walk alone.”
Her tone was flat and cool.
Aidan’s jaw tightened. He knew he should turn around then, head back to the house with his tail between his legs. But he stayed and continued to walk by her side.
“Why? Is something on your mind?”
“Things are always on my mind, Aidan.” She stared at the view of the bay in front of her, squinting against the light. “I’m a mother of two with no money and—”
“You know what I mean. Something else is bothering you. Is it me?”
She loudly sighed and adjusted the scarf around her throat. “Look, it’s been a long day, and I’m not up to this conversation right now. I came out here to get some peace. All the tables today were filled with assholes, and Maggie and Caleb have been at each other’s throats for most of the afternoon. I just want to—”
“You’ve been avoiding me for the past five days! I try to talk to you, and you pretend like you’re busy. I walk into the room, and you make an excuse to leave!”
“I do not, Aidan.”
“Yes, you do! Goddammit, you do! Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what it is. So solve the mystery for me and tell me what’s going on.”
She halted but didn’t answer him.
“Jesus Christ, Tracey, just tell me! Put a man out of his misery,” he said, only half joking.
She stood silent for a bit longer, and for a second he wondered if she still would keep whatever secrets she harbored. “I saw you,” she said, making him frown.
“You saw me? You saw me what?”
“I saw you, Aidan. I saw you with her . . . with Emma Lynn the day that she left. You were . . . you were in her bedroom, and I saw you. I heard you.”
And suddenly, it all made sense: her inability to look at him and not wanting to be alone with him anymore. He remembered his conversation with Emma Lynn. He remembered the way she had groped at his fly, like she owned his dick—like she owned him.
“I wasn’t trying to spy on you. I came upstairs to find you for dinner, but I should’ve knocked. I know I should have knocked, but I didn’t. I opened the door, and I saw you two.” She finally looked up at him then. She had traded her look of disappointment for a look of pain. “I asked you, Aidan. I asked if you were ever with her and you told me no. You should have been honest with me!”
“Trace, you asked if we were a couple, and we weren’t. We never had been! We were just—”
“Buddies,” she finished for him. “Buddies who happened to have sex with each other.”
He roughly shoved his fingers through his hair, blowing air through his clenched teeth. He knew how ridiculous it sounded at the time. It sounded even worse now coming from her lips.
“And were all the other women who came to Harbor Hill who you had sex with just ‘buddies’ too, Aidan? Did you plan to add me to your little friend list?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said, shaking his head.
I shouldn’t have gone back upstairs with Emma Lynn, he thought. He was mentally kicking himself for it now. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t. He should have escorted her to her car, kissed her cheek, shut the door, and walked away. Why had he let her talk him into going back? Why had Tracey stumbled upon them at the worst possible time?
“Then what was it like? Explain it to me, Aidan. What am I not understanding?” she persisted, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. “Because it looks like you were taking advantage of vulnerable, broken women . . . that you used them for sex!”
He continued to shake his head. “That’s not what happened.”
“Did you plan to take advantage of me too? Make me think you really cared when you didn’t? Was I supposed to be some—”
“No! No, of course not! Look, I never took advantage of anyone. Every woman I ever slept with knew what was happening. I never made any promises I couldn’t keep, and I didn’t lie. I didn’t make them think I could give any more than what I could give! I was always up front! I—”
“But you weren’t up front with me,” she said softly. “You weren’t up front with me.”
He lowered his head. “No. No, I wasn’t, and I should’ve been. I was just . . . just worried about how you’d react if I told you everything. If I told you the truth. I know how bad it looks.”
He took a step toward her and, after much uncertainty, reached out and held her shoulders. He wanted touch her m
ore—hug her, kiss her—but knew he’d be pushing his luck if he did.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Tracey, because I care about you. I have feelings for you that I haven’t had for . . . for anybody in a long time! What we have—”
“We don’t have anything, Aidan,” she said calmly, pulling away from him, taking a step back. “You said before that your wife left you because you weren’t ready to put her first. Well, you’re still not ready. That’s pretty evident.”
Her words sliced into him, tiny paper cuts made with inflection and syllables.
“You’re still selfish,” she continued, slicing again. “You’re still emotionally stunted. It’s why you did what you did. It’s why you lied to me. I’m glad I finally realized that. Besides,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “I need to focus. I have two children to worry about. I have classes to finish and a degree to complete if I want to make a better life for them and myself. I can’t live with Delilah forever, and I have to make plans for when I leave here. This thing—whatever it is, whatever it was—has distracted me. I needed to wake up. What you did woke me up.”
She was masking cruelty with honesty, but it was her honesty that wounded him the most. He had no right to be hurt or angry. He had done this to himself, shot himself in the foot, as he had so many times in the past. But he was hurt all the same.
Aidan fought to control his features, to keep the blandness in his voice. “Well, I’m glad my screwup helped you focus.”
She nodded half-heartedly, then turned back toward the waterfront, looking longingly at the trail beyond the tall grass. “I better keep going before I lose the light and end up walking back in the dark,” she said softly. “Will you tell Delilah I should be back in about a half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes at most?”
“Sure,” he said, because there was nothing else he could say.
He watched as she strode alone down the path with her ponytail swaying listlessly behind her. He then turned on his heels and headed in the opposite direction, feeling the burden of missed opportunity and loss weigh him down as he walked.
Aidan didn’t head toward the house but walked to his pickup truck. He climbed in the cab with no idea where he was going or how long he would drive. He just needed to get away from here.
He drove around Camden Beach, through downtown and along the waterfront. He drove into neighboring towns and then the entire length of the county, passing houses and strip malls, office buildings and fast food joints. He turned on his headlights when it got dark, all the while listening to his CDs, letting the music fill the car compartment. He turned up the volume to drown out his thoughts but didn’t succeed.
He thought about Tracey and that look of disappointment on her face and the hurt in her eyes. He remembered how she had turned her back on him and walked away. He couldn’t blame her. He was a man riddled with weaknesses and mistakes. She should stay as far away from him as possible.
He thought about Trish, their marriage, and their baby girl. He remembered the counseling sessions in which Trish had made tear-filled admissions while he’d fought the urge not to check the clock on the wall to see when the session would be over or his BlackBerry for messages from clients. He recalled with vividness the day his father-in-law had carried her suitcases out of their condo while Trish toted a wailing Annabelle in her arms.
“I’m sorry, Aidan, but I have to do this. I can’t stay,” she had whispered.
It was after 11 o’clock when Aidan crossed the Camden Beach border and the gas tank needle hovered dangerously close to E. Aidan had no choice but to stop driving. He spotted a blazing white and red sign of a Stop ’n’ Go in the distance and made his way to the gas station. He pulled up to one of the vacant pumps, hopped out of the cab, and strolled inside the small convenience store.
When Aidan walked back to his truck a few minutes later after paying the sales clerk, he saw a BMW come to a screeching halt at the pump behind him. He raised the gas nozzle and turned to fill his truck with unleaded but paused when he heard someone shout out.
“Aidan! Aidan Dominguez, fancy running into you here!”
He glanced to his left and saw Teddy Williams striding toward him. He nodded politely. “Hey, Teddy, how you doin’?”
“Good! Good! Just leaving a late night dinner with the wife.” He gestured over his shoulder to the BMW’s tinted windshield. Aidan could see a plump brunette in the passenger seat who was staring down at her cell phone, tapping at the screen.
“It’s our twenty-five-year anniversary,” Teddy elaborated with a grin.
“Congratulations.” Aidan then returned his attention to the gas nozzle and the readout on the digital screen behind him, hoping Teddy would take the hint that he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Besides, the man’s cologne was almost as overwhelming as the smell of gasoline filling Aidan’s nose.
“I’ve been thinking about you guys, you know . . . about how things are going at Harbor Hill.” Teddy took a step closer to him. “Did you call the police, by the way? Did they find out who were the bastards that vandalized poor Ms. Grey’s house?”
Aidan shook his head. “No, we didn’t call the police. She insisted that we didn’t and I . . . well . . . I had to respect her wishes.”
No matter how crazy they are, he thought but didn’t add.
“Well, that’s a shame. That is a shame.” He inclined his head. “So Ms. Grey isn’t worried that things will only get worse? I mean . . . if someone paints that on your garage, you have to wonder what else they’ll do!”
Aidan rolled his eyes. “I’ve had this conversation with her already. She says she’s not worried.”
“She’s not—but you know better!” Teddy thumped him on the shoulder. “Look, Aidan, I can tell you’re a rational, practical man. You know that house will get to be too much for her eventually, and all these shenanigans will only make it worse for her. She’s an old woman who should be enjoying her later years in life, not dealing with this nuisance!”
Aidan pursed his lips.
“And you’re a single young man with your own life, your own aspirations! You’ve done a fine job of taking care of her and Harbor Hill, but don’t you want something for yourself? If I were your age, I’d be eager to get out! You’re not an old married guy like me with a wife and three kids. I envy you, fellow!”
Aidan lowered his eyes, not feeling particularly worthy of Teddy’s envy at that moment.
“I know you and I have both tried to convince her to sell Harbor Hill, but maybe a better tactic is to get her to come to my office instead.”
He laid a hand on Aidan’s shoulder when Aidan started to mount an argument.
“Just hear me out! Bring her by my office, and I’ll give her the full dog and pony show. I’ll pull everything out of my salesman’s hat. I’ll show her what I would do with Harbor Hill so that she’ll know it would be in good hands. Maybe that will finally do the trick!”
Aidan considered his offer for several seconds before he finally nodded. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll try my best.”
CHAPTER 28
“What do you mean you’re moving out?” Delilah asked. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open.
“I’m not moving out right away,” Aidan said, taking the armchair facing her. He ran his hands over his jeans-clad legs. “It probably won’t be for a few months. But I want to be gone by June at the latest.”
“So another bird leaves the nest,” Cee whispered in her mind with a chuckle, though she told him to hush up.
She set her opened paperback of The Color Purple aside on the footstool, making Bruce narrow his eyes. Now, having had his sleep disrupted and unwilling to share his space with Alice Walker, the tabby cat rose to his feet and hopped down from the stool. He then walked out of the living room, leaving Delilah and Aidan alone.
“But why?” Delilah asked. “Why now?”
She had anticipated this day would come eventually. To be honest, Delilah hadn’t planned for Aidan to stay at Harbo
r Hill for the four years that he had lived there, but this revelation felt like it had come out of nowhere. She felt blindsided, as she had so many times these past few weeks. She’d thought things settled down the older you got, that life became more predictable. Instead, she was finding the opposite.
“You said I would never leave, and I told you I would. Now is . . . well . . . it’s just the right time.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
She frowned, taking in his facial expression and his body language. He was trying his best to convey nonchalance, but she could see what was lurking beneath. She knew him too well.
“This decision . . . is it because of her?”
He squinted. “Her? Her who?”
“You know who I’m talking about, Aidan. Is it because of Tracey . . . because of whatever happened between you two? Is that why you’re leaving?”
He paused for a beat. She saw his Adam’s apple bob over the collar of his shirt as he swallowed. “No, this has nothing to do with her.”
He was lying. She knew that he was lying.
Delilah was now even more at a loss for words. She had worried that Tracey would get hurt if something romantic developed between her and Aidan and it inevitably fell apart. She hadn’t considered that he would suffer any emotional blows. But here he was, putting on a brave front when she could see the wounds and the bruises as clearly as if they were on his face.
Staring at him, she recalled the young Aidan, the quiet boy with the lanky limbs and the sad eyes who also tried to mask his hurt and disappointment with nonchalance, with a casual teenage bravado that didn’t fool her even then.
Like mother like son, Delilah thought.
He had inherited Rosario’s depression, carrying it around with him like the stacks of old CDs she used to play, which he now played all the time. But while Rosario wallowed in her pain, taking laps in the cesspool of torment and gloom, Aidan would deny he’d ever set foot in the water.
“You’re not ready,” Delilah said, sadly shaking her head. “I’ve seen this enough times to know when someone is better after being here. I can see when they’ve healed, and you haven’t, honey.”
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