She’s right. I keep forgetting how new every single experience is to her. Even the act of trying on a dress or getting a paycheck is unfamiliar. And I’m downstairs looking at rings like an idiot. I wish there was a way to make Stella believe in herself the way I do, but that kind of faith can’t come from me. It’s a process. A process I’m rushing.
And I’m probably going to push her away in the process.
That thought makes my spine feel like ice. I’m going to lose her if I don’t slow the hell down—and I can’t seem to remember to pace myself when she looks at me. My resolve just goes straight out the window and next time? Next time she could just walk. “Yeah, you’ve just blown me away so often, sometimes I forget you’re inching forward,” I manage past my numb lips. Why are my vocal cords aching? Probably because what I need to offer her, to keep her, is going to split me in half. “If you need more…space, Stella. I’ll give you that.”
The glow leaves her face. “What? I…no.” She takes a step forward. “No, that’s not what I meant—”
Her phone rings on the bench. A riotous series of notes.
That’s not her usual ring tone. I’ve been with her when Jordyn called. I’ve called her phone to locate it when she lost it in my apartment. Normally it’s just a light, repetitive chime. This is different. Judging by the way her face drops, it’s not a welcome sound.
“What’s wrong, Stella?” I reach out and cup her bare shoulder, brushing my thumb over the smoothness. “Who is that?”
She looks up at me, then away. Doesn’t answer me.
Instead, she moves out of my reach, snatches up her ringing phone and closes herself in one of the changing rooms. It’s a very scary thing, how fast everything has shifted in the space of one goddamn minute. I can’t get my footing. Or think straight. But I’m pretty sure I just fucked up. Badly. I created a divide between us out of fear of that exact thing. What the hell is wrong with me? And now she’s shut me out in a moment that I sense she could really use someone to talk to. “It’s Nicole, isn’t it? She’s out.”
“I think so. It’s her old number,” she whispers. “I’m afraid to answer.”
“Let me in. We can do it together.”
She laughs without humor—and I don’t blame her. I just got finished offering to give her space when that is the last thing on this earth that I want. Jesus. Does she feel insecure with me now? “Look, Aiden…this is too complicated.”
I watch the green silk pool on the floor of the dressing room. Her hand appears, picking it up and the sound of a hanger clangs against the wall. I’m experiencing all of it in fast motion. Everything is getting away from me. Moving too fast for me to fix.
She opens the door of the changing room, dressed once again in the black turtleneck dress and tights she wore to work this morning. I watched her put them on over the rim of my coffee mug and now I think…are we breaking up? I just found her.
“Stella, slow down.”
“Now you want to slow down,” she says in a shaky burst, avoiding my eyes. Her movements are unnatural. Nervous. I’m realizing too late how serious this situation is with Nicole and somehow I’ve forfeited my right to help. She tries to go around me and I step into her path to block her without thinking. “I have to go. Let me go.”
I can’t. I’m in love with you.
It’s the exact wrong time to tell her. To say those words out loud. So I keep them locked up tight even though they’re fighting to get out. “I swear to God, Stella, if you’re going to see her…and that puts you in some kind of danger, I’ll go fucking ballistic.” My vision starts to turn gray. “The thought of you hurt—”
“Stop.” She closes her eyes momentarily. “Look, Aiden. You’ve been my hero since day one. We can pretend it’s not true, but it is. I was trapped under all this…debris and you pulled me out. Gave me a place to heal. But if I’m going to stay here, if I’m going to feel like I earned this second chance, I have to be my own hero. Okay? And you need to have faith that I can do it. That I can do anything.” She pauses. “Please? Because I don’t even believe it right now.”
“Of course I do,” I rasp, heat searing the sides of my throat. “I believe in you every day of the week. Set your watch on it.”
“Thank you.” She hesitates on the threshold of the dressing room, then goes up on her toes and kisses me on the cheek. “Bye, Aiden.”