I arch my brows, and he shakes his head before continuing, “That was the Times.”
“The Times? As in the New York Times?”
He laughs in disbelief, leans back in the chair, and tugs his hands through his hair. “They want me to come up for an interview.”
“No way.”
My mouth is on the floor. This is Aiden’s dream.
“Yeah. Dave said he put in a good word for me a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think anything would come from it.”
Dave is the editor-in-chief at Texas Monthly. For years, he’s been Aiden’s advocate, believing in his talent and throwing him hardballs in the hopes that he’d knock them out of the park. I’m not surprised he provided a good reference for Aiden, and I’m not surprised they want him to go to New York for an interview.
I’m just surprised by the timing of it all.
“So then you’re leaving the trip?”
“I mean…I have to, right?”
His green eyes have never seemed so far away.
“Absolutely, you have to go. It’s the Times.”
“The Times,” he repeats.
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“How do you feel?” I ask, aware that my voice doesn’t carry the exact right tone. I’m not masking my emotions enough. My worry is seeping through.
“Like it’s not real. I mean, it’s not.” He shrugs. “I don’t have a job or anything. Just an interview.”
He has to say that, but I know the truth. Aiden will get that job. This is his moment, the time and place he’ll look back on in a decade with a rueful shake of his head.
“And then what?” I prompt, needing to know.
“What do you mean?”
“Would you be a Texas correspondent for them or something?”
Aiden’s brows crinkle down the middle, and I have my answer. The last shred of hope I was naively hanging on to is crumpled up and thrown out.
“The position is in New York,” he says lightly.
I shake my head as if correcting my thoughts. “Of course it is. Duh. Wow, that’s…” I point behind me. “I was just coming in to check what you were up to, so I should probably alert the others—”
“Yeah, okay.” He glances back down at his laptop. “I still have to figure all this stuff out and try to see if I can get a flight from El Paso or if I should try to drive back to Austin.”
“Oh! Sure.” I take this as my cue to leave. “Okay, good luck.”
I appear externally optimistic right up until I close the door of our bungalow behind me. Then, my shoulders sag, my smile drops, and I take in an unsteady breath. It feels like there’s a boulder sitting on my chest, like I couldn’t move from this spot even if I was being chased by a lion. I squint out at the desert landscape, trying to identify how this could possibly be happening. Aiden is interviewing in New York. If he gets the job, he’ll move.
Just like that, poof. He’ll be gone.
I feel sick with dread, not quite wanting to believe this could be happening so fast. Sure, Aiden has mentioned working for the Times, but it’s always seemed like a pipe dream, like some ten-year-old in a football jersey talking about starting in the NFL. I never thought he would actually do it.
This is wrong.
This isn’t how our lives were supposed to play out.
Last night was the start of something. We both lost ourselves in the moment, sure, but doesn’t that mean something? Surely there are repressed feelings on his end too? You don’t kiss someone you find repulsive, right? So maybe he likes me? Maybe he wishes we hadn’t been interrupted by Stephanie?
I’m in a full-on argument with myself now, walking back and forth on the concrete path out in front of our bungalow, contemplating my options in my head, gesturing wildly with my hands as if I’m a lawyer in a courtroom. I could go back to the pool, procure a bottle of vodka, and proceed to drink it down to the very last drop. Or I could go back in, tell Aiden the truth, and beg him to stay.
Neither sounds especially appealing.
There’s a reason why I’ve kept my feelings secret for all this time. If I were the type of confident live-and-let-live woman who proclaims her love for all to hear, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. I would have told Aiden I had feelings for him, oh, I don’t know…TWO years ago!