Blowing out a sigh, I reluctantly stepped aside.
As he walked into my hotel room, he seemed smaller. Nervous and timid. I’d spent so much time trying to build him up after the crash, I fucking hated it.
I perched on the edge of the king-size bed, and Aaron stood at the foot. An awkward silence blanketed the room. It felt so distinctly wrong that it was painful.
Jesus. How the fuck had we gotten here?
“What happened before the crash?” I asked evenly.
“I fucked up. And never in my life have I regretted anything more.” He chewed on his thumbnail. “It’s just… When you went missing, everything was so crazy. The police were saying one thing. Bowen said something totally different. Your dad kept looking to me and Mark for answers. We knew you better than anyone else, but we were just as clueless. Well, almost. Let’s be real here. Commitment has always freaked you out.”
He was not wrong there. For the most part, I’d avoided dating in general just to avoid even the possibility of a relationship—or more accurately the inevitable failure of a relationship. Still, I rolled my eyes and circled my hand in the air, signaling for him to continue.
He scratched the back of his neck. “Then Bowen came along and you were smitten from day one. But you were still you, so when I’d found out he’d asked you to move in after only three weeks, I just…hoped that you’d taken off.” He gestured around the room. “Ya know, to get some space to think.”
“You hoped?”
“Well, the alternative was that there was a maniac out there who had kidnapped my best friend, held her captive for almost a week, and drugged her to the point she couldn’t remember anything but the sound of another woman crying.” His handsome face crumbled, and tears welled in his eyes. “And worst of all, if it was true, I had to accept that it was all my fault.”
My whole body locked up tight. “W-what?”
“When’s the last time you went for a run by yourself, Remi?”
I shook my head. I didn’t run by myself. I actually hated running in general. Give me a spin class or elliptical any day of the week. However, when it came to putting one foot in front of the other in the great outdoors, my experiences were limited to when our neighbor’s dog got out of the backyard or if Aaron had guilted me into going with him.
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
His shoulders shook with a silent sob. “You shouldn’t have been there. I got called into the office early that morning. You were still in bed when I left, so I texted you on my way out the door. I figured you’d see it when you woke up and be damn near ecstatic that you didn’t have to run with me. I never thought you’d go alone, but every day over the last year and a half, I have shredded myself over it.”
A vise cranked down on my chest. Just what Aaron needed—more guilt in his life. This did explain a lot about how different he’d become after the plane crash. Though maybe the crash hadn’t been the root cause of his survivor’s guilt to begin with.
He walked over to the bed and sank down beside me. Not touching, but close. “I didn’t handle things well after they found you. I couldn’t stop blaming myself, so I was defensive about everything. You tried to tell me it wasn’t my fault, but hearing and believing it were two very different stories. So one night, I lashed out at you and told you I thought you were making it all up. It was fucking dumb and by far the biggest lie I’d ever told.”
My lips thinned and I gave him a pointed glare.
“Up until that point, I mean,” he amended.
I nodded at his appraisal and bumped him with my shoulder. A simple gesture to let him know I was there, even if I wasn’t anywhere ready to throw my arms around his neck and tell him it was all forgiven.
“Did you apologize at least?” I asked.
He scoffed. “At least a hundred times. Often daily. But so many people, the police included, thought you had fabricated everything to cover a drug problem that had gotten out of control. I think when I said it, the words grew claws and dug into your flesh. I was never able to convince you that I hadn’t meant it. At first, you stopped speaking to me. Then just the sight of me would set you on fire. We’d had a huge fight the night before your second suicide attempt. After that, Bowen asked me to move out.” He lifted one shoulder. “So I did.”
“What the fuck?” I gasped. “You moved out?”
His eyes met mine. “It was for the best. It was for you.”
