Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Aiden let out a harsh sound that was a mix between a yell and a growl and then hurled the book into the water behind me. I grabbed his face to force him to look at me.
“It was not your fault! Do you hear me?”
He tried to push me away, but I refused to release my hold on him. I practically crawled onto his lap to keep him from moving. It was a dirty move because I knew he’d never do anything to hurt me, not even push me away so he could run. His fingers closed around my hips, but he didn’t try to dislodge me.
“Aiden, the pain he had to have been in that night wouldn’t have come from just one event. It would have been something he’d been living with for a really long time. Even if you’d stayed with him, it would have kept building within him, and he would have tried it as soon as it became too much to bear, whether you were there or not. He only saw one way out— he only saw one way to get the peace that character in the book found. You said he got along with your mother and father, right?”
Aiden nodded.
“Did either of them worry he’d do something like that?”
“No,” Aiden said softly.
“Because they didn’t see it. They were his parents… the adults, yet they didn’t see it either. How were you supposed to have seen something they couldn’t? You were sixteen years old, Aiden. You were just a kid.” I let my fingers skim the damp track of tears that lingered on his skin. “You didn’t fail him, Aiden.”
Aiden just shook his head. I gripped him by the neck gently and used my thumbs to stop the movement. “Aiden, do you believe in God?” I asked.
“I used to,” he murmured noncommittally.
“I stopped believing after I lost my parents because I couldn’t make sense of how He could take them when I needed them most. But I couldn’t stop myself from believing that my parents were still watching over me somehow— it was something I needed to hang onto. Does that make sense?”
He nodded.
“If Danny’s out there, watching over you like my parents are watching out for me, do you think he’s found that peace he was looking for? Knowing what you’re going through?”
He took a breath. “No.”
God, he sounded so damn tired. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go.
“It’s okay to be angry with him, Aiden. And it’s okay to wish things had been different. But don’t carry all this by yourself. Wrong or not, if there is such a thing as heaven, then Danny’s there, and he has a chance at finding that peace he wanted so badly. You do, too, because you did what you promised him you’d always do. You were there for him. You grabbed his hand and held on with everything you had. It was all you could do.”
I leaned down to press my forehead against his. “Let him go, Aiden. You need to be okay with letting him be at peace. I need you to be okay with that.”
“I don’t know how, Ash. I don’t know how to let go,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears.
“I know, baby. But we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
He didn’t answer me, not with words, anyway. But when he nodded against me and then wrapped his arms around me in a brutally tight grip, I knew he’d finally found his way back to me.
“I’m not letting go, Aiden,” I promised. “Not ever letting go.”
There were still no words to accompany his next nod, but I didn’t care.
What he’d given me was enough.
More than enough.
Chapter 21
Aiden
When we returned home from the shore, Ash automatically began sleeping in my room as if he’d been there all along. With his warm body holding me through the night, I was able to get much better sleep than before our trip. It wasn’t that the nightmares were gone— they weren’t— but they weren’t quite as real or long or violent. It was as if my subconscious was finally able to give me a break in that little way.
In the meantime, sharing my days and nights with Ash was like walking through a dream. I was able to watch him relax more and more and come into his own. After that first time playing the guitar for me at the beach house, he gained confidence and began indulging me by playing for me whenever I asked, which was usually after dinner when we curled up on the sofa together.
And he was good.
Really, really good.
He didn’t believe me, of course. But every time Ash played for me, I felt it deep in my soul. It was the kind of music that made you stop and connect, wondering who the hell was singing and playing.