kissed.
Tonight, she’d even dressed differently. Nothing flashy or showy. But definitely not the usual Janie plaid flannel shirt and jeans. The dark-green sweater with a V-neck hugged her curves in a way that made them impossible to miss and impossible not to remember exactly how she’d felt on top of him.
Serving that table tonight had been another one of those cruel moments that would stay with him for a long time. Janie fit in at that table, sitting there with Logan. And when Lainey and Tyler announced their baby news…he’d been happy for them—for Lainey especially—but it reminded him of his own failings. He’d never been able to announce that he was going to become a dad, because he hadn’t even known, because he’d screwed up. But no one else at that table had screwed up that badly, had failed their kid for fifteen years.
And the other thoughts, the childish ones, crept in. Like how he wanted a chance at having it all—with Janie. He wanted to go all in, to act on everything they felt for each other and have a real relationship. But he was paying for past mistakes. His kid didn’t trust him enough to be with Janie. Aiden deserved that.
He paused when he reached the top of the stairs, taking in the musky scent of the rarely used upper level, thoughts of Janie slowly receding. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through. He didn’t want to come up here, but he owed Will something, some kind of history from his side of the family. Will had been asking for some family pictures; he wanted to see what Aiden looked like as a kid. Aiden could have kicked himself for ever putting that thought in Will’s head. He’d thought he could just come here, grab some old photos, and leave, but he felt sick now.
Walking with a dread that filled his limbs with weight he hadn’t felt in a long time, he unlocked the door to his childhood apartment and flicked the light switch on.
He stood in the doorway and was engulfed by dust and memories he didn’t want. Moving forward slowly, he told himself to just go to his old room, do what he came here to do, and then leave. But as he passed the dingy, shit-brown recliner his dad had spent most of his last years sitting in, his legs stopped moving and he stared at the empty chair, at first not seeing anything, just staring, still feeling the weight of his dad’s presence suffocate him like a dirty, itchy wool blanket.
But the chair didn’t stay empty for long. He could envision his dad there, holding a beer in one hand, whipping the remote at Aiden with the other. Aiden had just come home from school and had proudly shown his father his report card—straight As. He’d backed away when his dad had started yelling, calling him a show-off, arrogant, boastful, and then he’d ripped up the report card, telling him it meant nothing. Humiliation, anger, and confusion had consumed him as he fled to his room. Aiden hadn’t understood. The year before, his dad had told him his grades were garbage. Now they were perfect, but that was bad, too? He remembered the humiliation the next morning at school, when everyone was handing in their signed report cards and he couldn’t because his dad had destroyed his.
Aiden ran his hands through his hair and swore out loud in the empty apartment. None of that shit should matter anymore. He was dead. Aiden was an adult. That was over twenty years ago.
But he pictured Will showing him a report card, or telling him something he had accomplished, and it physically hurt to think of reacting to him like that. To picture his face filled with pain, all the joy stripped away. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the fact that he had a kid now. He may just be learning about being a dad, but there were things that were absolutes, that he knew were wrong no matter what. That he knew would take a lifetime to heal.
He’d thought he was healed. He’d thought he was done with this shit.
This was his other life—the one no one in town knew about. Old Man Rivers was just a little rough around the edges, but everyone liked him enough. No one had suspected he was actually a first-class ass who beat his kid. That resentment still lingered.
There were so many times he’d wanted to tell people,