“Scotch, Aid?” his father asked, serving himself and Evan.
Aiden had done enough drinking over the last week to justify a lengthy stay at Betty Ford. He’d better lay off before he had a bigger problem than his swelling liver. “No, thanks. I was thinking of going for a run.”
Evan cast a dubious glance out of the window. “Tonight? You’re crazy.”
“It’s pouring, son,” Mike said.
It was. Rain beat the roof, the windows, but there wasn’t any lightning, and the temperature wasn’t too cold. Since his chat with Shane yesterday, Aiden had some extra steam to burn off. A run in the cool rain might be just the thing he needed.
Shane’s proclamation that Crickitt had given him one more chance had burrowed beneath Aiden’s skin. And last night he’d lain awake in bed and actually, foolishly, considered going back to Sadie and seeing if she’d take him back.
Maybe he didn’t need a stay at Betty Ford; maybe he needed a padded cell with a locking door.
He woke this morning recalling everything she hadn’t said while he’d stood outside her door spilling his guts. Her continued silence spoke volumes. She hadn’t called him this week. He’d given her what she wanted, then she’d drawn the line in the sand. Not that making love to Sadie was a hardship for him, but they’d made love on her terms. If he had his way, he’d be engaged by now.
“I’m not made of sugar,” Aiden said, watching the rain hit the window behind his brother and father’s head. He spun his ball cap so the bill covered his eyes. “Be back soon.” He left his father and brother in the den and snagged his black waterproof running jacket on the way outside. Under the small front porch, he watched it pour, reconsidering that glass of scotch.
A memory of Sadie’s übercool shrug the night he was going to propose—the casual way she suggested they have sex a few times a week—pissed him off enough to propel him into the storm. He splashed through a puddle, then another, keeping his head down as he found his pace.
This last week had been one of the hardest Aiden had ever endured. And that was saying a lot, since the last woman he’d committed to spend a lifetime with had left him for someone else. But as bad as it was to learn Harmony had chosen his best friend and business partner over Aiden, at least now Aiden could look back and see things had turned out for the best. When he looked back, or maybe forward, at the life he and Sadie could have had, he didn’t see it as a dodged bullet. He felt as if he’d taken two to the chest.
He loved her. Still loved her, dammit. And when pretending he was okay didn’t lessen the pain of losing her, or drinking to forget her hadn’t made her the least bit fuzzy in his memory, he knew he was in trouble. In trouble and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He didn’t know why he’d thought he could get over her this time. It wasn’t like he’d been able to get over her the last time. The pain of losing her was dull, but still there. Like the pain in his back now, reminding him of the night he’d wrecked his bike.
He wondered if loving Sadie would ache in the same way. If it’d be a persistent reminder that never fully healed. If she’d remain a lingering, distant memory regardless of who came into his life next. A small, dark part of his heart knew she would be there forever. And that made him want to go to her and give her—and himself—one final chance to be who they were meant to be.
But he wasn’t going to beg.
It wasn’t a matter of pride. It was a matter of needing to get used to not having her around. Because casual wasn’t going to cut it for him. Not where she was concerned. He loved her with every fiber of his being. It was the only way he knew how to love her. He couldn’t do half measures. Not where Sadie was concerned.
And, yeah, maybe he wasn’t going to her partially out of self-preservation. He was afraid if she did talk to him, she’d suggest they “see where it goes.” But Aiden had figured out a long time ago that with Sadie, he knew exactly where he wanted it to go. And while he wasn’t sure he could ever feel exactly this way for another woman, he was sure a truncated relationship with Sadie wasn’t a good solution to his problem.
And so here he was, alone. Running in the effing rain.
But he wasn’t alone, he reminded himself. He had plenty to be grateful for. His brothers, his nephew, his sister and her dorky husband. And yeah, he missed his mom. Losing her made him appreciate his family, and the time they had together, that much more.
The ache in his heart would subside. He may be crying into his beer (or Jim Beam or vodka tonic) for the remainder of his days, but he couldn’t let this crush him. He was being melodramatic yesterday when he’d told Shane he wished he could run away from home. That was kid stuff, the running away. Axle’s was Aiden’s legacy. Aiden was equipped to run those stores better than anyone, and he’d be damned if he’d turn away from it now that everything was lining up the way he wanted it.