by Nikki Chase
Aiden chuckles. “I was hiding from Earl’s nosy aunt. She kept asking me all these questions, like what my star sign was and whether I knew my aura said I was ready for love. I felt like she was about to put together her own version of The Bachelor, with her as the host and a bunch of girls from her neighborhood as the contestants.”
“Oh . . . ” I give him a sympathetic grimace. Sounds like his day hasn’t been too different from mine.
“Yeah. And then she coughed on me, and I had to go up to my room to change my shirt.”
I laugh at the mental image of Aiden as The Bachelor at a rose ceremony and Earl’s Aunt Greta coughing all over the roses, ruining the show.
Aiden’s laughing, too, but mostly because I’m laughing. He gazes at me with so much tenderness my heart aches at the sight.
His pupils have dilated, darkening his eyes and making them seem even deeper. I can’t help but get drawn to them, like there’s a force pulling us closer together.
“You look amazing tonight,” he says as he takes another step, closing the gap between us.
My heart hammers in my chest, and my whole body feels unstable. “Thanks,” I whisper. “You do, too.”
“I mean it.” Aiden’s breath falls hot on my skin.
He’s too close—someone’s going to see us. But at the same time, he’s too far away, and I need him right against me, skin on skin.
Aiden seems to feel the same way, because he puts his hand on my waist and pulls me close.
“We shouldn’t,” I say. “Someone might see.”
“Just one minute.” Aiden puts his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.
I can’t help but melt into his touch. Before I know it, my eyes are closed and my head is tilted up, while Aiden leans down and puts his lips on mine.
It’s gentle, tentative, and more than just a little bit scary, this kiss we’re sharing. It feels new like the first one, but I know these lips and the way they kiss—I replay his kisses in my head all the time.
“I miss you, princess,” Aiden says when he pulls away.
My body tenses. “There it is again. ‘Princess.’”
I break free of Aiden’s arms, which only seconds ago felt like heaven.
I raise my gaze to meet his. “I’m not your princess now, Aiden. I used to be, but you just disappeared without an explanation. I waited for you all night at our meeting point. I waited until the diner closed and they shooed me out, luggage and all.”
I want to add that it was raining, too, to add insult to injury, considering I was literally in a desert city. But I think I’ve gotten the message across.
Regret and realization flash in Aiden’s eyes, but there’s something else: hurt.
He was the one who left me hanging; what’s he got to feel hurt about?
Aiden opens his mouth. But before he can say anything, the big door opens.
Music blares from the gap through which I can see the party. It’s in full swing now. With flashing lights and a popular dance number to set the mood, Hannah and Earl’s wedding guests are getting wild on the floor.
I take one big step away from Aiden when I realize the person who’s just opened the door is my dad.
“Aubrey, you’re here. Your sister’s looking for you,” Dad says with a big smile on his face.
I let out a surreptitious breath of relief. He didn’t see the kiss or suspect anything.
“Yeah, I was just getting her some powder from upstairs. Took me a while to find it,” I say, pulling out the compact from the pocket in my dress before I follow Dad back inside.
I glance back over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Aiden. Looks like I’m getting texts with sad emojis tonight.
Aiden
Are you in Vegas?” Mom asks. She talks slowly, enunciating every word to make sure I listen. This is how she always speaks when she's unhappy with me.
Great. I’ve got not one, but two women angry at me.
“Mom, I don't know what you're talking about,” I say calmly into the phone.
“A, you know I don't like it when you lie to me,” she says. “Have you forgotten that we're friends on Facebook? I saw the pictures someone just posted of you.”
I knew those fucking cameras were trouble.
“A?” Mom says when I remain quiet.
“Mom, you remember Earl?” I ask.
“What does that have to do with anything? Are you or are you not in Vegas?” she demands.
“That has to do with everything. And I’m sure you remember Earl. He was this kid a few years older than me. He used to bring us food whenever his aunt came to visit with her baked goods. You liked her blueberry cookies.”
“Greta. She was a great baker, but I didn't like listening to her talk for hours about her boring life.” Mom says. “I remember Earl. Now, I’ve answered your question. How about you answer mine now?”
“Well, my question was the first part of my answer. The second part is, it's Earl’s wedding.” I give it a dramatic pause. “You know how close we used to be. I hadn’t seen him again since he moved to Vegas years ago. Today’s his wedding, and I couldn't have missed it.”
The line goes quiet except for Mom’s breathing, which grows more labored by the second. Even though we’re in completely different cities, separated by hundreds of miles of brown desert, the intense silence turns my whole hotel room cold.
“So you are in Vegas?” Mom asks again.
“Mom, I don’t want you to worry. I’m not drunk driving or burning my entire savings at the casino. I’ve just been spending some time with old friends. It’s just a wedding. It’s completely safe.
“You remember how scared Earl’s aunt was of crossing the road, and yet she’s here in Vegas too, and she seems to think things are great.” I speak slowly.
I don’t mean to treat her like a child, but she’s irrationally afraid of this city, and I feel like I need to spell everything out to her if I want the slightest chance of putting her mind at ease.
Mom stops hyperventilating enough to quickly say, “I can’t believe you’re in Vegas.” She takes three urgent breaths. “This is—” two more breaths “—the only thing I asked from you.” Her voice shakes. “You cannot be in Vegas.”
“Mom, I know bad things happened to Dad when we were living here, but I’m not him, okay? I’ll stay safe.”
I don’t know if it’s a good idea to bring up my late dad into a phone conversation where my mom is already on the verge of hysteria, but I don’t know how else to get her to listen.
She still doesn’t say a word.
“Mom, I’m telling you I’m perfectly fine. The wedding’s already over, and I’m going home first thing tomorrow anyway.” I check my watch. “Look, it’s already late. You probably have work early in the morning. You should take your pill and go to sleep. I’ll be there when you wake up, okay?”
I swear, the moment I start making good money, I’m sending Mom to a shrink. She needs to get this phobia under control. She can’t expect me to live my life governed by the same fear.
“Stay away from your old girlfriend,” Mom says all of a sudden in a clear voice.
My heart races. “Who?”
I have a few ex-girlfriends in Vegas, even though I moved away at sixteen. What can I say? I grew up pretty fast.
“The rich one. The one with the doctor dad,” Mom says quietly. Her voice is small.
“Aubrey?” For some reason, I’m not surprised. Aubrey was the girlfriend I had when we moved away.
“Maybe. I don’t remember her name.”
“Why?” I ask. My head hurts. I raise my hand up to my face to massage my temples.
“She…” Mom lets her voice hang in the air, her sentence unfinished.
“She what?” I insist.
“She’s bad luck.”
Of course. That’s her answer for everything, especially after Dad’s deadly car crash.
“Mom, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep telling me not to do th
is and not to do that, when you don’t have a good reason.”
When Mom speaks again, her voice is shaking, like she’s terrified. “Oh, no. You’ve already met her, haven’t you?”
“Mom, she doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Dad. I know you think everything’s interconnected, but Aubrey has no idea the accident even happened.” I know I’ve said the wrong thing when I hear her sharp gasp.
“You’ve talked to her,” she says in an accusing tone.
“Mom, I don’t know what the problem is. You never showed any signs that you didn’t like her.”
“Stay away from her,” she says sternly.
“Mom, I’m not five. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t talk to.”
Sometimes I wish we had enough money for me to move out and live on my own, but my mom would still be the same volatile person. And instead of putting an end to this kind of talk, I’d just be forced to calm her down over the phone like I’m doing—which, by the way, is harder than just doing it in person as usual.
“You can’t see her,” Mom says, not even acknowledging what I just said.
“Mom, I couldn’t not see her. She’s the maid of honor at Earl’s wedding. She’s the bride’s sister.”
“You saw her dad, too?” Mom asks urgently, terror in her voice.
I weigh my options. I can lie, but she’s going to see right through it. Or, I can tell her the truth, but I have a feeling that’ll freak her out even more.
Why all this fuss about Aubrey anyway?
Mom’s always been weird about Vegas, but she’s never said much about Aubrey until today.
“I saw her dad from a distance, I guess. He was at the wedding, but we didn’t speak much,” I say.
Also, he hates my guts and Aubrey tells me to stay the fuck away from him, I think to myself. But I keep this information to myself. I don’t want to agitate Mom even more.
“Stay away from that man,” Mom says, her voice trembling.
The way this conversation is going, I feel like I’ll end up being forbidden from seeing anyone ever again.
“Mom, I don’t intend to talk to the man. But you can’t keep telling me what to do and who to talk to.” I let out a big sigh. “Listen, we’ll talk when I see you at home, okay?”
Our schedules don’t always sync up because we’re both always busy working, so we don’t see each other every day even though we live together.
But as soon as I see my mom, I need to finally persuade her that we can afford therapy for her, despite our shitty insurance. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a necessity at this point. Her paranoia is taking over both our lives.
“Stay away from that whole family,” Mom repeats like a broken record.
“Yes, Mom. I told you. The wedding is over, and I won’t see them again tomorrow. I’ll be driving back to San Francisco and coming home, okay?”
The line stays silent.
“Mom . . . I’m coming home tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” she finally says.
“I’m hanging up now and going to sleep because it’s going to be a long drive tomorrow. You should do the same, too. It’s late.”
“Okay,” she says again. “Come home quickly, A.”
“I will. Good night, Mom.”
“Good night,” she says, almost as a reflex. She quickly adds, “And don’t talk to that whole family.”
“I know. Bye, Mom.”
“Bye. I love you.”
“Love you too.” I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally hang up.
That was a difficult phone call. I think she’s fine now, although I had to end the phone call with a lie.
I’m definitely going to see Aubrey again, seeing as we’ll be interning at the same hospital. But, I don’t know if she’ll ever want to talk to me again.
I press the Home button on my phone and check my messages. Still nothing from Aubrey. Just my own texts staring sadly back at me.
Aiden: Hey…
Aiden: Can we talk?
Since I haven’t received a reply in hours, the answer’s probably “no.”
I sit on the nice hotel bed and let my body fall backward until I’m staring at the ceiling. I’m glad I’m alone at least. I wouldn’t be able to mope around in peace with David around. I wonder if he found some chick to spend the night with.
I wish I were spending some time with Aubrey. We don’t have to sleep together, or even touch—just her presence alone electrifies the air. And she’s hot as fucking hell, but what I really want to do is talk to her, straighten some things out.
I had no idea she went to our meeting spot. I thought she’d instantly forgotten about me, since I’d never heard from her again after moving away from Vegas.
But what am I after here? What’s the end game?
I can’t bring Aubrey home. Based on the phone conversation that’s just taken place, seeing Aubrey would freak Mom out.
Maybe that means there’s no future for us. Or maybe that means we’ll have to wait until Mom’s gotten over her irrational fear. Maybe I’m a dumbfuck because all these considerations are irrelevant if Aubrey hates my guts.
I can’t predict how Aubrey or Mom would react to my actions, but I know I can’t just leave things alone now.
The fact that Aubrey’s still angry at me, after all these years, means that she still has some feelings for me. Otherwise, she’d be indifferent and unaffected. She’d be laughing about it now.
But the emotions I saw in her eyes in the hallway just a few hours ago . . . They were raw, real, and as fresh as if everything had just happened.
I know it’s not just my imagination. She may not admit it, but at least a part of her heart still belongs to me. And I can’t just do nothing with that kind of knowledge.
At the very least, I need to kiss her again.
Aubrey
There are two things that make me nervous on my first day as a medical intern: screwing up so badly that I kill someone, and facing Aiden. I think I’m more scared of the second one.
I check my reflection in the staff restroom, running my fingers through my blonde hair. There's a small smudge of mascara under my eye, so I carefully blot it away with a piece of tissue. I smooth out my scrubs before I take one last deep breath and step out into the crowded hallway.
Maybe I don't need to worry so much about my appearance. At Hannah and Earl’s wedding last month, it seemed like Aiden liked what he saw.
I’ve been thinking about what to say to Aiden, but I can't come up with a script good enough to communicate I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do, and that's exactly why you should stay away, because I don't ever want to go through the same pain again.
I can't tell him that. It feels too vulnerable, and I’m already feeling pretty exposed.
In my blue scrubs, I attract attention. Patients and physicians nod at me as we walk past one another in the hallway. My heart thumps in my chest.
This is going to sound crazy, but I feel like someone will suddenly realize I’m just an impostor and tell me to leave the premises because I’m a fake doctor and my education is worth shit.
It takes me a while to even find my attending physician, Dr. Graham, because the hospital is a maze. But when she tells me what to do for the day, I start to breathe easy. She wants me to see some patients, make some notes privately, and then discuss how to treat those patients with her before we proceed together.
This means there’s little chance of things going wrong because of something I do.
Now Aiden’s the only thing for me to worry about.
I don’t know why I blurted out what I did at the party. And I must’ve been crazy to let myself get carried away and kiss him. I’m lucky my dad didn’t see us together, or I’d be dealing with some drama right now.
To be fair, though, Aiden seemed just as carried away as I was. But it was a wedding—of course everyone felt lonely and needed company. That’s all it was.
Now that we’re going to be
working together, it’s best if we don’t do any of that stuff. As much as I want to know how things went so wrong so quickly for us, it was ten years ago, and it’s weird to still be hung up on that.
What was I expecting? Our love affair was intense and all-consuming, but we were sixteen. Everything was intense and all-consuming at that age. I had friends who cried when Kevin left the Backstreet Boys and broke up the boyband in 2006.
Besides, Aiden probably doesn’t have any good explanation for what he did. Most likely, he just moved on because he found some other girl he liked better at his school, or something dumb like that.
As much as it sucked for me at the time . . . he was sixteen.
Well, I’m twenty-six now. I’m an adult. I should know when to let things go. And when it comes to this particular thing, I’m already ten years overdue.
By the time I see Aiden, it’s late in the afternoon.
I’ve been running around all day. My hair is probably a mess and I’m drowning in the heavy weight of my responsibility to take care of my patients.
It feels like I’ve suddenly forgotten all the things I’ve learned over the past few years. Every time a nurse asks me to do something, I want to tell her I don’t know how to do it.
But it’s time to go home now. A sense of relief descends upon me, and I can breathe easy.
Then, I see Aiden, standing by the hospital entrance.
Even though he looks exhausted from a full day of work, he looks hot as sin in his jeans and T-shirt. He’s leaning against the wall like he’s waiting for something—or someone.
Is he waiting for me?
I guess I’ll find out soon. He's already seen me coming out of the building. He fixes his gaze on me as he pushes himself off the wall.
“Hey,” he says, wearing that smile that's been haunting my dreams.
Funnily enough, after that wedding weekend, all my dreams about Aiden have been updated to show the twenty-six-year-old him, and not the teenage version of him I was familiar with for a decade.
“Hey,” I reply.
“How was your first day?” He takes a few tentative steps closer, moving carefully like he's approaching a nervous squirrel at a park.