Pen Pal

I freeze. My heart stops. Feeling as if I’ve been kicked in the gut, I lean against the car door to steady myself. Then I stand there in cold shock, trying to decide what to do.

But there’s nothing to do. Aidan and I aren’t in a committed relationship. Hell, we haven’t even talked about whether or not he’s dating other people. I don’t know a thing about his personal life.

“Oh God,” I say aloud, horrified. “Kayla, you idiot!”

He could have twenty other women on a rotating fuck schedule for all I know, with nary a condom in sight.

This is exactly how lifelong regrets are made.

I quickly get back in the car and slam shut the door. Groaning, I lean forward and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. With my eyes closed, I curse myself silently, alternating every few moments with a nice juicy curse for Aidan, too.

Not that he deserves it. No promises have been broken here. That awful pain in my chest is just my ego smarting. Or maybe it’s my heart, I can’t tell. Whatever it is, it’s painful.

Boy, I’d really like to swing a hammer at a few of his most tender body parts.

When the sharp knock on the window comes, I jerk upright.

Aidan is bent over outside the driver’s-side window, peering at me quizzically.

Shit.

When I don’t make a move, he says, “Thought that was you. What are you doing?”

Heat rising in my cheeks, I say quickly, “Nothing. Sitting here.”

After a beat, he asks, “This a bad time?”

I know what he means, and he isn’t talking about my impending mental breakdown. “I’m alone.”

“Okay. Back to the other question, which you answered but not really. What are you doing?”

“I was just…out running errands.”

He furrows his brow. His gaze grows piercing. I sigh and wish for the power of invisibility, which inconveniently doesn’t materialize.

“Get out of the car, Kayla.”

I make a face at him. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

He steps back and folds his arms across his chest, waiting.

I consider starting the engine and burning rubber, but decide against it. He’d probably run after me and catch me at the next stop light. So I brace myself for an uncomfortable conversation and exit the car.

He takes my arm and leads me safely over to the sidewalk, then stands across from me with his arms folded over his chest again. He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, silently looking me over.

I say, “Okay, fine. I’ll start. Hi, Aidan. How are you?”

His eyes narrow. Other than that, he makes no response to my question.

From experience, I know we could stand here all night before he tells me what’s on his mind. If ever. So I point at the car and say, “I’m gonna go.”

“Why are you acting so strange?”

“Me? I’m acting strange?”

He gets this look on his face, this annoyed look, like he’s seriously considering taking me over his knee right here on the sidewalk and spanking my ass raw. A warning in his voice, he demands, “What’s wrong, bunny?”

Hearing him call me that makes my blood boil.

I sternly remind myself that this man doesn’t belong to me, that we have no commitments, that all the hot, incredible sexual chemistry in the world does not a relationship make, but can’t quite get myself to believe it.

I’m hurt, I’m angry, and I’m embarrassed that he caught me slumped over my steering wheel because I was so hurt and angry.

But I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit it. I might not have much, but I still have my pride.

I lift my chin and say calmly, “Nothing’s wrong. I was out running errands. It’s nice to see you.”

His eyes flare with anger. His voice low and controlled, he says, “Three fucking lies in one breath. Try again, and this time be honest.”

Heat pulses in my cheeks. I stare at him, aware that my hands are shaking and that I’d like to curl them around his neck and squeeze very hard.

With every ounce of self-control at my disposal, I ask, “How’s your date going, Aidan?”

He blinks. He huffs out a short laugh. He glances over his shoulder toward the restaurant, then turns back and pins me in a look of such burning intensity, I take a step backward.

Eyes shining, he says softly, “Oh, bunny. You’re gonna pay for that later.”

Then he takes my arm and leads me across the street. Ignoring my protests, he opens the restaurant door and guides me past the hostess stand and through the main dining room to a table near the back.

A table where the brunette he walked in with is sitting.

Right next to his friend Jake, the security guy.

I understand instantly that my tendency to assume the worst of human nature has just come around to bite me in the ass.

Stopping tableside, Aidan gestures to the brunette. “Deb, this is Kayla. Kayla, say hi to Deb.” He gives me a pointed stare. “She’s Jake’s wife.”

Face flaming, I say, “Of course she is. Hello, Deb. Nice to meet you.”

My face flames hotter when Deb bounces in her chair and claps in excitement.

“Kayla! We’ve heard all about you! It’s so great to meet you! Come join us, please!”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to interrupt your dinner.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not interrupting at all. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

As I stand there with Aidan’s big hand curled around my upper arm and my mortification painting my entire face red, Jake smiles at me. “Hi, Kayla.”

“Jake.”

“How’s the security system doing?”

“Great, thanks.”

“Good to hear.” He glances at Aidan. “You gonna sit, or is your man here gonna throw you over his shoulder and stalk off into the woods?”

“There’s really no telling.”

Aidan puts me into a chair. He takes the one next to me. Then he props his elbows on the tabletop and stares at my profile with the intensity of an FBI interrogator.

“Aidan?” says Deb, looking confused. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer, but the tension in his body is enough to communicate volumes.

Looking at Deb, I say sheepishly, “He’s mad at me.”

Obviously surprised, she looks back and forth between us. “Why? He was literally just telling us how amazing you are before he stepped outside to take a call!”

This just keeps getting better. I want to slide under the table in shame, but manage to smile tightly and answer her. “I did something he didn’t appreciate.”

She and Jake glance at each other in surprise, then look back at me with lifted brows.

I feel like a world-class asshole.

After a rough throat clearing, I admit, “I saw him coming in here with his arm around your shoulders and assumed you were together.”

She laughs. “Us? Oh, honey, I’ve known this guy since high school. He’s like a brother to me.”

Jake slings his arm around the back of her chair and sends her a lazy smile. “You’ve known me since high school, too. You feel like I’m your brother?”

Smiling, she smacks him lightly on the thigh. “Oh, be quiet. You know what I’m saying.”

They share an affectionate kiss as Aidan continues to burn holes into the side of my face. Then he leans over and murmurs in my ear, “You were jealous.”

I turn my head. There’s no mistaking the glint of heat in his eyes. It’s right there next to the disappointment. When I chew on the inside of my cheek, he chuckles and withdraws.

The chuckle gives me hope that my punishment for breaking my promise never to lie to him won’t be too severe.

The waitress appears with a tray of waters for the table, then asks if we’d like drinks or appetizers before dinner.

Deb says, “God, yes. Give me a scotch and water, please. Easy on the water.”

I can already tell I’m going to get along well with this woman.

I ask for a glass of wine, and Jake and Aidan both order beers. When the waitress leaves to get our drinks, Deb leans over the table, smiling at me eagerly.

“So, Kayla. I understand you’re an artist.”

“An illustrator, actually.”

She crinkles her forehead. “They’re not the same thing?”

“I suppose I’m a commercial artist. As opposed to a fine artist.”

“Meaning you make money,” says Jake with a chuckle.

“Not much,” I answer ruefully. “But it pays the bills.”

Deb says, “I’m so jealous. I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”

Jake snorts. “Don’t know about that. You come up with some pretty creative stories every month when the credit card bill comes and you have to explain why you spent so much on Amazon.”

She waves a hand dismissively in his direction. “I keep telling you, honey, everything I buy is absolutely essential.”

“Explain to me how six pairs of identical black leggings are essential.”

She turns to him in outrage. “Would you prefer I go to Pilates class naked?”

He smiles at her. “I’d prefer you do everything naked.”

She turns back to me with pursed lips. “Ten years of marriage, and he’s still the Energizer Bunny.”

I try not to choke on the sip of water I’m taking. Under the table, Aidan squeezes my thigh. I know he’s smirking without turning to look.

The waitress returns with our drinks and takes everyone’s food orders. When she’s gone, Jake, Deb, and I chat about nothing in particular while Aidan watches us silently. His hand still rests on my thigh, a warm reminder that I’ve got some groveling to get to later. And after that, when I’m alone, some serious self-reflection.

I told Aidan that what I wanted was to get to know him better. To spend time with him and see where it goes. That was the truth, but was it the whole truth?

Do I really want something more?

If I’m honest with myself…yes.

The thought of it scares me. I don’t understand how I could possibly be ready to jump headfirst into a commitment so soon after Michael’s death. What does that say about the kind of person I am?

What does it say about my marriage?

These are questions I don’t really want to know the answers to. But in fairness to both Aidan and myself, they need to be asked.

“Don’t you think, Kayla?”

I suddenly realize everyone is waiting for me to answer a question Deb has asked. But I’ve been so lost in my own thoughts, I don’t know what it is. I glance around the table, my cheeks growing hot.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Deb hesitates. When she glances down at my left hand, resting on the tablecloth, I realize I’m obsessively twisting my wedding ring around my finger with my thumb. I pull my hand under the table and swallow nervously, hoping Aidan didn’t catch it, but knowing he probably did.

And why the fuck am I still wearing the damn thing? What am I holding on to?

More questions that require answers.

Deb says gently, “I was just saying we girls need to stick together.”

It’s obvious that’s not what she was saying. She’s being kind, letting me know that she can tell I’m a big mess, but that she’s pulling for me.

Jake, on the other hand, is giving me a steely stare. He’s not cutting me any slack. He turns to Aidan and asks him how the house build is going, an obvious ploy to move the conversation in a different direction.

They talk about the project while I sit and listen in uncomfortable silence, every once in a while offering a tight smile in response to a worried glance from Deb.

This is a disaster. I’m a disaster. I can’t even pull off a ten-minute conversation with other people without making a fool of myself. I’ve probably embarrassed poor Aidan in every way the man could be embarrassed, first assuming his best friend’s wife is a fuck buddy, then toying with my wedding band and spacing out about my husband.

I shouldn’t be here.

The moment that thought crosses my mind, Aidan drapes his arm over my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.

Flooded with emotion, I swallow and look down, blinking rapidly to clear the water from my eyes.

Deb says, “I’ve got to go to the little girls’ room. Kayla, want to join me?”

The woman is a saint.

I nod gratefully, then stand and follow her away from the table, feeling Aidan’s gaze on my back as I go.

As soon as we’re inside the ladies’ room and the door closes behind us, I lean against the sink, cover my face with my hands, and exhale hard.

Deb rests a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. He understands.”

I drop my hands and look at her helplessly. “Understands what? That I’m a moron?”

Deb’s brown eyes are as kind as the rest of her. She smiles gently at me and says, “Oh, honey. Aidan’s been through hell, too. He knows the only way to get through it is to keep going until you reach the other side. You’ll get there. You just have to trust the process.”

She turns and locks herself into a stall. I stand staring at the closed door until the toilet flushes and she reemerges. As she stands at the sink to wash her hands, I say, “He really has told you all about me.”

She pulls a paper towel from the dispenser on the sink. Drying her hands, she nods. “It isn’t often Aidan likes someone, so you’ll have to forgive me for getting excited. We haven’t been on a double date with him in years.”

She tosses the crinkled paper in the trash, then steps past me and pulls open the bathroom door. “Come on, girlfriend. If we stay in here much longer, they’ll start to worry and come looking for us. And trust me when I tell you that’s not something we want to happen.”

“The worrying part or the looking for us part?”

She laughs. “Both.”

I smile, thinking I actually quite like it when Aidan comes looking for me. Hide-and-seek is my new favorite game because of him.

When we approach the table, Aidan and Jake abruptly stop talking. Judging by their body language and the tension in the air, we interrupted an argument. Deb and I take our seats, then there’s a long, awkward silence where nobody says anything or looks at each other.

When Jake scowls at my left hand, I have a feeling I know what the argument was about.

He says aggressively, “Can I ask you a question, Kayla?”

Aidan sends Jake a blistering glare and warns, “Leave it alone.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “Go ahead.”

He rests his forearms on the table and points at Aidan. “This man doesn’t deserve any bullshit.”

Aidan says through gritted teeth, “Jake.”

I say, “I agree, he doesn’t. What’s your question?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what are you doing with him”—he pauses to send a pointed stare to my ring finger—“when you’re obviously otherwise committed?”

Infuriated, Aidan turns to me. “Don’t answer that.” He turns back to Jake. “You’re out of fucking line.”

“He’s just watching out for you,” I say softly.

“I don’t need watching out for.”

As Aidan and Jake glare at each other, Deb rests her hand on Jake’s forearm. She says gently, “Honey. Let it go.”

Jake snaps, “The hell I will! He’s my best friend. I’ve watched him get shit on and beat up and kicked around by life for way too long. And he’s finally in a good place, after years of the worst this world has to offer.” He turns away from Deb and pins me in a cold stare. “Then you came along.”

He drops his gaze to my finger and stares accusingly at my wedding ring.

Aidan hisses, “For fuck’s sake!”

Mimicking Deb’s gesture, I rest my hand on Aidan’s tense forearm. My heart pounding, I look into Jake’s angry eyes and say quietly, “You asked what I’m doing. Here’s the answer. The best I can, like everyone else. I recently went through a huge transition. I’m not over it. I don’t know how long it will take to get over it. But in the meantime, I’m living my life and figuring it out. I’m taking things one day at a time, just trying to sort through all the confusion. But I’m not otherwise committed. There’s no one else.”

I turn to Aidan and gather my courage. “And today proved something to me. Seeing you with your arm around Deb, thinking you were with her…” I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I don’t want there to be anyone else. For either of us. I’m in way deeper than I thought, and to be totally honest, it scares the shit out of me.”

The emotion reflected in Aidan’s eyes is overwhelming.

Deb and Jake disappear. The restaurant disappears. Everything around us fades to black. There’s only me and Aidan sitting beside each other, looking at each other’s bared souls.

He says gruffly, “Me too. All of it. Me too.”

“I know,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

He takes my face in his hands. “But you don’t have to be scared. I’ll catch you when you fall. I’ll always catch you.”

He tears me apart and glues me back together again, all with a kiss.

Jake groans. “Well, fuck me. I guess now I’m the asshole.”

Deb says, “You’ll make up for it by paying for everyone’s dinner. Ah, and here’s the waitress with the appetizers now! Perfect timing. Let’s eat, guys.”

When Aidan pulls away from me, I catch a glimpse of a familiar figure in the large rectangular mirror mounted on the wall behind our table. A tall, gaunt man in a gray trench coat with a hat pulled low over his eyes stands near the front door of the restaurant. Though I can’t see his eyes, I feel him staring in my direction.

By the time I turn around to look at him, he’s gone.