His to Cherish

by Stacey Lynn

  I kept my eyes on Shane as Beth’s arms squeezed so tight I was afraid what little breakfast I’d had might end up on her shirt.

  “Thank you for coming,” she whispered into my shoulder.

  In front of me, Shane’s expression was blank and uncaring. He took in his mom hugging me before turning toward the television hanging in the corner.

  It was off, but he stared at it as if the most fascinating show were on.

  My heart splintered into fragments at the lost and sad look in his eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” I finally replied to Beth. I moved my hands to her upper arms and gently peeled her off me. “What can I do for you?”

  Her hand dropped to my wrist and she tugged me toward the door. With a frantic look, as if Shane were going to evaporate into thin air if she left the room, she told him we were leaving for a minute.

  “We’ll be right outside, though,” she assured him.

  Shane didn’t respond, and Beth’s shoulders slumped forward with defeat.

  “C’mon,” I whispered, opening the door and ushering her through. Once we were in the hallway, I rested a shoulder against the wall. “What happened?”

  In front of me, the always perfectly coiffed Beth Johnson broke down. Her eyes watered and tears began falling down her cheeks before she could answer. Her shoulders shook and I pulled her into my arms, wrapping her in another hug, but his time I didn’t let go.

  I let her sob and wail, her grief and her fear apparent and filling the hallway with devastation.

  “Beth,” I said, rubbing her hair and trying to comfort her. “What happened?”

  She sniffed, eventually her shoulders stopped shaking, and she pulled back, wiping her cheeks. I gave her all the time she needed.

  “Overdose,” she answered, her chin still trembling.

  My hand flew to my mouth, covering the gasp, and my own eyes began to water. “What? How?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t know and we…they don’t…the doctors…” She struggled again, her voice breaking until she inhaled a deep breath. “They don’t know if it was intentional or not.”

  Suicide attempt?

  My skin chilled with the thought…the fear of Shane doing something so horrible. He screamed of pain, but I had never thought he was in that bad of shape. I should have done something earlier, spoken up to the guidance counselor, insisted he went in for help.

  I should have done more. Guilt raged in me as Beth began to cry again.

  “I’m not sure. The hospital called me in the middle of the night to tell me he’d been brought into the emergency room. Apparently he was at a friend’s last night and found some pills…”

  Oh God. My hand dropped to my chest and I rubbed the aching cramp inside that was squeezing my heart.

  Turning my head, I looked at Shane through the small window next to his door. His head was back against his bed, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He looked like he’d completely given up, drained of all energy and hope.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked Beth, not looking back at her over my shoulder.

  “He talks to you.”

  I shook my head. “Not about this.”

  “Please,” she pleaded behind me. Her desperation seeped off of her, like she truly believed I was her only hope to help her son. “Just talk to him, see if he’ll talk to you about what’s going on in his head so I can get him help.” I could almost taste her pain when she continued. “They have him here, but they can’t keep him past tomorrow if he doesn’t start talking. I could have him committed, but if he doesn’t need it…”

  Her voice trailed off. I was not a mom. I was an only child, born to parents who had died in a car accident shortly after I married Cory, and while I had known great loss, I knew that there was nothing more devastating than the loss of a child. She was watching him waste away, and I couldn’t bear to think that she’d ever have to go through anything similar to Aidan.

  “Can I have some time alone with him?” I asked, my voice hoarse and thick with nerves when I turned to face her.

  She nodded frantically. “Of course, please. Take whatever time you want. I’ll go get some food and come back, or I’ll stay in the waiting room until you need me.”

  She looked lost, as if she didn’t know which way to turn.

  “Beth.” I reached out and squeezed her hand in order to offer some minimal comfort. “He’ll be okay for a while so you can eat. It’s okay.”

  “Okay. Right.”

  She stayed in the hallway while I reentered the room, which was filled with a fog of apathy. Not that I expected Shane to jump for glee or even smile, but I felt more depressed just being there.

  I took the chair Beth had been sitting in and clasped my hands together.

  For several moments, I rolled the words that I wanted to say around in my head, but I tried to wait for some sign from Shane that he was willing to listen.

  When I sensed he could outlast my silence by a fair margin, I closed my eyes and started talking.

  “My parents died in a car accident a few years ago.” I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his eyes shift to me. I’d at least gotten his attention, if not his interest yet. “I know it’s not the same thing as Derrick. I was born in Ohio, lived there my whole life until I graduated from high school and moved north for college. They were on their way to see me, got caught in a bad snow storm, and lost control of their car after they hit a patch of ice.”

  I let that sink in for a few moments. Without meeting Shane’s eyes, I looked up and saw him fidgeting with the sheets covering his legs.

  “I understand that guilt of feeling like it’s your fault. If I would have insisted they come the next weekend. If I would have checked the weather, I could have flown them up instead of letting my dad drive. They were getting older, and he didn’t like driving outside our small hometown.”

  I chanced a glance at Shane to see his eyes closed, but tears were falling down his cheeks and his chin was quivering.

  “It’s okay to cry, Shane. It’s okay to be sad, and you’re going to be. And while I know we’ve already talked about that, I know that everything I say is the truth, because I’ve lived it. But you don’t have to let Derrick’s death be yours, too. He wouldn’t want that.”

  I sighed, exhausted from the spiel that might have been completely useless. I rarely talked about my parents anymore for the simple reason that it hurt so much to dredge up those memories—the guilt, the second-guessing, the wondering.

  It was all so freaking pointless, yet instinctual to anyone who had someone die and felt they could have prevented it.

  “Shoulda-coulda-wouldas won’t help you heal, Shane.”

  He sniffed and opened his mouth before shutting it again.

  A muscle jumped in his cheek and I leaned forward, hoping for anything.

  But while in one moment he seemed to compose himself, in the very next he dried his cheeks and shut down, turning away from me.

  “Shane, honey. We just want to help you.” My eyes burned with unshed tears. I was so sick of freaking crying all the time. It seemed to be all I did. At school. At night when I still heard Shane’s terrified screams…With Aidan. “In order to do that, we have to know if you meant to take all those pills, sweetie.”

  He flinched, whether from my coddling tone or my quiet accusation, I didn’t know.

  Finally, his chin quivered as he inhaled a shaky breath.

  “I don’t want to die,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “But I don’t want to hurt anymore and I can’t stop. I hear him, I see it…I see him fall and hit his head every time I close my eyes, and I just wanted to sleep.”

  “Oh, Shane.” I rushed to his bed, and before I knew it, I did something completely inappropriate for a school employee to do with a student. I didn’t care. In that moment, I was just a family friend and my heart was bursting to get out of my chest. I climbed onto the bed next to him and wrapped him in my arms.

  He stiffened before
collapsing into my embrace.

  His sobs echoed through the entire room and I had no idea how long I held him, shushing him and comforting him.

  “I just wanted to sleep!” he cried out. His entire body began shaking and I held him tighter, pulling him so he was sitting up, so I could fully wrap my arms around him.

  “I know, honey.”

  And I felt so lost, like I was running through a dark forest with no way out. I had no idea how to help this boy. There was nothing left to say that could make him feel better, but I knew he needed help. Serious help.

  Yet I was not the one capable of providing it for him.

  So I stayed for as long as I could, doing the only thing I could think of.

  I held him.

  —

  I had grown up on a small farm in Ohio, and our land was usually overrun with stray animals. Most of them were there because I couldn’t, and never had been able to, leave a stranded animal on the side of the road. Every time I saw a stray cat or dog, I screamed and shouted until my parents would stop the car and bring it home with us.

  I nursed birds back to health.

  I once bottle fed a baby raccoon I found.

  I took care of a litter of baby bunnies after my dad had almost mowed over their den and the mommy rabbit never came back to take care of them.

  Our house and barn were filled with stray cats.

  My parents used to constantly tease me that there wasn’t an animal alive I couldn’t bring back to health and wholeness.

  I left the hospital after I told Beth what Shane said had happened, and then spent more time comforting her. Once in my car, I drove around for hours thinking of all the time I spent taking care of everyone and everything else since I’d been a small child.

  It was too deeply a part of my makeup to leave either a wounded animal or a person alone when they were hurting.

  And as I drove, I considered all of that.

  I was sad.

  I was overworked.

  I was stretched too thin.

  I hadn’t devoted nearly enough time in the last few weeks to doing the things that I enjoyed, the things that helped me, because I’d been so concerned with being there for everyone else.

  But no matter what my clouded feelings regarding Aidan were, I felt like I needed to take a step back. Reevaluate. See if what I felt for him was something more than him being another wounded animal before I let things go too far.

  The last thing I wanted was more people hurting.

  Especially me.

  My shoulders sagged with relief when I pulled into my driveway well after the sun had set and his truck wasn’t there.

  After the last twenty-four hours, I didn’t have it in me to be there for anyone tonight.

  I needed sleep. I needed quiet. I needed time to myself to figure everything out.

  Upon entering my house, I made sure the garage door was firmly shut behind me and headed straight to the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but my stomach felt too tight from stress and sadness and food didn’t sound good. Instead, I drank a glass of orange juice and programmed my coffeemaker for the morning before going to my room.

  I didn’t bother turning on lights. I knew the layout of my house, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I slowly stumbled down the hall to my bathroom, where I took a long shower, climbed into bed, and prayed that sleep would come quickly.

  It didn’t.

  I lay in bed for what felt like hours, listening to the crickets chirping outside, before I realized I hadn’t even looked at my phone after turning it off when I got to the hospital that morning.

  I also never called the school secretary to update her on Shane.

  Sighing, I threw off the covers and grabbed my purse off of the floor by my bed where I had dropped it on my way to shower.

  After I turned my phone on, my eyes jumped wide open at the number of missed calls and text messages on the home screen.

  I slid my thumb across the arrow and my phone came to life with a long string of notifications.

  My chin started to quiver when I saw a text from Beth.

  He’s talking and has asked for help. I owe you my son’s life. Thank you so much for what you did for us today. I’ll never forget it.

  I pushed back the tears and pressed my lips together to maintain control of my emotions.

  “Thank goodness,” I whispered, and lifted my eyes to the ceiling. Not being overly religious, I didn’t pray often, but I believed God existed and he watched out for people. Most of the time, anyway. I’d seen too much death to think he had a role in everyone’s life every moment of the day, because if he did, I didn’t understand why he allowed so many horrible things to happen. But still, I prayed. “Take care of Shane, please. Watch over him. Keep him safe.”

  Wiping the escaped tears from my cheeks, I inhaled a breath, opened my eyes, and scrolled through the rest of my phone messages.

  Messages from the school were normal. It wasn’t often I took a sick day and it made me smile to think that I had been missed during the day. Either that or Rebecca went straight for the gossip phone tree letting everyone know something had happened to Shane. I frowned at the thought while I saw a slew of messages from coworkers asking how I was doing.

  Texts and missed calls from Aidan were what made my heart pound against my chest. My pulse kicked up as memories of the morning flashed through my mind—not that the dull ache between my legs hadn’t reminded me of it all day long.

  Had it really been just that morning that he had been in my arms and inside me?

  I shivered, my body already warming with arousal at the memories, yet I pushed them down when I saw the texts take on a more frantic tone.

  His last one, left twenty minutes before I got home said:

  Call me. Please. I need to know you’re safe even if you’re avoiding me.

  I frowned, my teeth finding my bottom lip and biting down. I wasn’t avoiding him. At least I hadn’t been then.

  But I could imagine him worried, pacing his house wondering how Shane was doing or if something had happened to me, tugging at his hair when I continued to not answer his calls.

  Aidan had taken a piece of my heart the very first day he showed up to help me with the landscaping, the first night he manned my grill, and the next day when he returned to continue helping.

  It might have been for escape, but something else—something deeper—was beginning even then, and I was a fool for denying or questioning it.

  He had a piece of my heart, and not only did I not want him to give it back, I didn’t want it anymore. It was his.

  I checked the time and, seeing that it was almost midnight, I hesitated to call him, despite his recent text. It had been a long day and I wasn’t sure I was ready for more drama.

  But I didn’t want him to worry anymore, either.

  He answered on the very first ring, as if he’d been holding the phone in his hand, waiting for me. I couldn’t help but smile, even though his voice was heavy when he said, “Thank Christ. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. I was just about to call the cops.”

  “I’m sorry I made you worry,” I murmured into the phone, and stretched out in my bed. “It was a tough day.”

  He was silent for a beat, for too long, and I almost regretted mentioning my day with Shane.

  “How is he?” he finally asked.

  I picked at my sheets and closed my eyes. “Hurting. Badly.” I swallowed, uncertain how much to share. Beth’s message that Shane had decided to get help was good news and gave me hope. But would Aidan think the same? How much could he handle on top of everything else?

  It surprised me when his voice dropped an octave and he whispered, “How are you?”

  “Hurting,” I responded without having to think, and while I might have felt like I was the one who should have been strong through all of this, I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “Badly.”

  He shocked me further when he said, “I’ll be there in five.”<
br />
  Before I could argue, before I could tell him I just wanted to be alone, he hung up.

  Chapter 15

  In the time it took for Aidan to arrive, I unlocked the front door, flipped on the outside lights for him, and mindlessly wiped off my already clean kitchen countertops.

  When I heard his truck pull into the driveway, my stomach tied into a knot.

  Aidan walked through my front door without knocking and stood in the entryway as he closed the door behind him.

  As if he sensed not only my hesitation but my unspoken need to be comforted, he spread his arms wide open. “Come here, Chelsea.”

  I did. My feet moved quickly until I almost ran into him. He braced himself for the impact, though, and his arms immediately closed around me.

  Warm. Strong.

  I breathed him in, inhaling his scent, and allowed him to fill me with the strength I knew he had.

  “I wasn’t avoiding you,” I told him, thinking of the text he’d sent, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I didn’t look at my phone all day and I needed some time alone.”

  His lips pressed against the top of my head and I squeezed him tighter. It was an intimate gesture, one that said he wasn’t using me for avoidance or distraction this morning. One that said maybe he hadn’t been for a long time, but it was my own insecurities breaking through that had left me doubting him tonight.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  It. He meant Shane, and I pulled back to look into Aidan’s eyes to see how much he wanted to know, if he wanted to know, or if he was only trying to be nice.

  His lips twitched into one of his rare, brief smiles and my stomach flipped.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “I’d like that.”

  He trailed his hands down my arms, unwrapping them from his back until he had each of my hands wrapped in his.

  He tugged me toward the hallway to my room. “Let’s go talk in bed.”

  —

  When we reached my bedroom, Aidan let go of my hands and began pulling off his shoes and jeans. I lost track of all thought due to the fact that this magnificently beautiful man was about to crawl into my bed and hold me in his arms.