Fearless In Love
Page 64
But today, unlike any other day when she’d grabbed her bag and run, a little voice inside her head wouldn’t shut up. That voice kept reminding her that Matt had never once been cruel—not to Noah, not to Doreen or Cookie. Not even to Irene, who surely deserved his fury for the way she so thoughtlessly flitted in and out of her son’s life. He’d never been anything but perfect, and sweet, and caring until he’d believed Noah was barreling out of control straight into traffic—and all his biggest fears looked like they were about to come true.
Had she been wrong to flee? What if, once his panic had receded, she’d explained why she believed Noah was ready for two wheels—and Matt had actually listened? Could they have worked things out if she’d stayed to talk with him? If she’d apologized for not informing him of her plans, would he have apologized for losing it with her?
She leaned her head against the window, staring out. Below, a woman walked hand in hand with her young child. They each carried a grocery bag in their free hand, and though the little girl clearly had trouble hefting her bag, Ari saw the pride in the child’s face. She was helping, she was an important part of the family, and she’d been trusted with bringing home the food they’d eat that night for dinner.
Noah was the same, always wanting to help with making a picnic or cleaning up his toys, offering to work side by side with Matt on outdoor projects.
If Ari had stayed, could she have helped Matt understand that he didn’t need to be so afraid for Noah? Could she have shown him that his little boy was capable of so much?
From the start, she’d seen that Matt needed a partner to help him figure things out, someone who could counter his fears for his son. She’d wanted to be that partner, to be his family…and Noah’s mother.
After everything that had happened, even with her heart feeling like it had been run through a shredder, she couldn’t escape the truth: She still wanted those things.
But she’d run away instead of fighting for the two people she loved most in all the world.
She couldn’t change her past—her mother’s descent into drugs, her brother leaving, a string of bad foster homes. But she could change this.
She didn’t have to run every time her feelings got hurt. And Ari refused to let her insecurities take over this time. Not when her heart was in deeper than she’d ever thought possible. Not when the most important thing in the world—her love for Matt and Noah—was at stake. Not unless Matt came right out and said he didn’t want her and would never love her.
“I’m going back, and we’re going to talk.” Her voice was sure and strong, her words powerful as she picked up her bag and backpack.
She was going back, and Matt was going to hear her out. Even if putting her heart on the line again was terrifying—and the risk was huge that he wouldn’t return her feelings—she wasn’t running away.
Not ever again.
Their love was worth too much for that.
* * *
It hadn’t taken Matt long to figure out where Ari would have gone. It still terrified him that she lived in this run-down neighborhood, but she’d taken care of herself long before he came along.
The lobby door wasn’t locked, and he walked right in, hating that anyone could do the same. He scanned the names on the mailboxes. More than half had nothing but a number. The walls were covered with graffiti that stretched over the mailboxes as well. Finally, he found the name Jones written in small block letters, the apartment number below it.
The mixed scents of cooking followed him up the stairs. The aromas clashed instead of blending, as if they’d bled into the walls and started to rot. It was almost as bad as the old building in Chicago, and he expected to hear raised voices behind every door. But there was only the sound of footsteps above him. He turned on a landing, and his heart stopped.
Ari stood at the head of the stairs, one hand on the railing, a backpack over her shoulder and another bag clutched in her hand.
“What are you doing here?” It was obvious that seeing him on her stairs was the last thing she’d expected.
God, she was beautiful. Strong. Resilient.
Fearless.
Ari was everything he’d ever needed. Everything.
“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t wait for them to get behind closed doors before he apologized. “I shouldn’t have lost it, and I’m so damned sorry. Please come back to me. To us. Let me make it up to you, Ari. We don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”
She stared at him so long he finally had to release the breath he’d been holding.
At last she said, “Come up and we’ll talk.”
His heart was pounding too hard, too fast, as he followed along in the scuff marks on the ancient linoleum. After unlocking a door down the hall, she disappeared inside. When he came abreast of her, she stood there, holding the door open for him.
“It’s not like your house,” she said, but she didn’t need to explain anything to him. He knew what it was like. And he respected the hell out of her for surviving all of it.
Yes, the carpet was threadbare, the sofa sagged in the middle, and the countertop was scratched, but the place was scrupulously clean and fresh smelling.
She set her bags by the door, then turned to look him in the eye. “I was coming back to talk to you.” She took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have left that way.”
He ached with the need to reach for her. His heart raced, and even his palms were sweating. But he had no rights until he’d groveled. Until he’d begged.
Until she’d decided whether or not to forgive him.
“I was an ass.” His voice was raw. Tight. Desperate. “You had every right to leave after I went off half-cocked. You gave me your trust, and I threw it back in your face this morning. I should have never belittled your decisions, your education, your knowledge.” His voice was hardly more than a harsh whisper as he said, “I didn’t mean any of it, Ari. I promise you I didn’t.”
“Thank you for saying you’re sorry—and I know you didn’t mean it. But trust works both ways.” Her voice was soft, but every word she spoke reverberated through him. “It didn’t matter that I’d thoroughly thought it out, I was still wrong not to check with you first about Noah’s training wheels. But even though you yelled and hurt me with what you said, that wasn’t why I ran.” He was destroyed by the pain on her face. “I always have my bag packed. At the first sign of trouble, I’m outta there. Because nothing has ever been permanent. No one has ever wanted me.”
Had she been wrong to flee? What if, once his panic had receded, she’d explained why she believed Noah was ready for two wheels—and Matt had actually listened? Could they have worked things out if she’d stayed to talk with him? If she’d apologized for not informing him of her plans, would he have apologized for losing it with her?
She leaned her head against the window, staring out. Below, a woman walked hand in hand with her young child. They each carried a grocery bag in their free hand, and though the little girl clearly had trouble hefting her bag, Ari saw the pride in the child’s face. She was helping, she was an important part of the family, and she’d been trusted with bringing home the food they’d eat that night for dinner.
Noah was the same, always wanting to help with making a picnic or cleaning up his toys, offering to work side by side with Matt on outdoor projects.
If Ari had stayed, could she have helped Matt understand that he didn’t need to be so afraid for Noah? Could she have shown him that his little boy was capable of so much?
From the start, she’d seen that Matt needed a partner to help him figure things out, someone who could counter his fears for his son. She’d wanted to be that partner, to be his family…and Noah’s mother.
After everything that had happened, even with her heart feeling like it had been run through a shredder, she couldn’t escape the truth: She still wanted those things.
But she’d run away instead of fighting for the two people she loved most in all the world.
She couldn’t change her past—her mother’s descent into drugs, her brother leaving, a string of bad foster homes. But she could change this.
She didn’t have to run every time her feelings got hurt. And Ari refused to let her insecurities take over this time. Not when her heart was in deeper than she’d ever thought possible. Not when the most important thing in the world—her love for Matt and Noah—was at stake. Not unless Matt came right out and said he didn’t want her and would never love her.
“I’m going back, and we’re going to talk.” Her voice was sure and strong, her words powerful as she picked up her bag and backpack.
She was going back, and Matt was going to hear her out. Even if putting her heart on the line again was terrifying—and the risk was huge that he wouldn’t return her feelings—she wasn’t running away.
Not ever again.
Their love was worth too much for that.
* * *
It hadn’t taken Matt long to figure out where Ari would have gone. It still terrified him that she lived in this run-down neighborhood, but she’d taken care of herself long before he came along.
The lobby door wasn’t locked, and he walked right in, hating that anyone could do the same. He scanned the names on the mailboxes. More than half had nothing but a number. The walls were covered with graffiti that stretched over the mailboxes as well. Finally, he found the name Jones written in small block letters, the apartment number below it.
The mixed scents of cooking followed him up the stairs. The aromas clashed instead of blending, as if they’d bled into the walls and started to rot. It was almost as bad as the old building in Chicago, and he expected to hear raised voices behind every door. But there was only the sound of footsteps above him. He turned on a landing, and his heart stopped.
Ari stood at the head of the stairs, one hand on the railing, a backpack over her shoulder and another bag clutched in her hand.
“What are you doing here?” It was obvious that seeing him on her stairs was the last thing she’d expected.
God, she was beautiful. Strong. Resilient.
Fearless.
Ari was everything he’d ever needed. Everything.
“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t wait for them to get behind closed doors before he apologized. “I shouldn’t have lost it, and I’m so damned sorry. Please come back to me. To us. Let me make it up to you, Ari. We don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”
She stared at him so long he finally had to release the breath he’d been holding.
At last she said, “Come up and we’ll talk.”
His heart was pounding too hard, too fast, as he followed along in the scuff marks on the ancient linoleum. After unlocking a door down the hall, she disappeared inside. When he came abreast of her, she stood there, holding the door open for him.
“It’s not like your house,” she said, but she didn’t need to explain anything to him. He knew what it was like. And he respected the hell out of her for surviving all of it.
Yes, the carpet was threadbare, the sofa sagged in the middle, and the countertop was scratched, but the place was scrupulously clean and fresh smelling.
She set her bags by the door, then turned to look him in the eye. “I was coming back to talk to you.” She took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have left that way.”
He ached with the need to reach for her. His heart raced, and even his palms were sweating. But he had no rights until he’d groveled. Until he’d begged.
Until she’d decided whether or not to forgive him.
“I was an ass.” His voice was raw. Tight. Desperate. “You had every right to leave after I went off half-cocked. You gave me your trust, and I threw it back in your face this morning. I should have never belittled your decisions, your education, your knowledge.” His voice was hardly more than a harsh whisper as he said, “I didn’t mean any of it, Ari. I promise you I didn’t.”
“Thank you for saying you’re sorry—and I know you didn’t mean it. But trust works both ways.” Her voice was soft, but every word she spoke reverberated through him. “It didn’t matter that I’d thoroughly thought it out, I was still wrong not to check with you first about Noah’s training wheels. But even though you yelled and hurt me with what you said, that wasn’t why I ran.” He was destroyed by the pain on her face. “I always have my bag packed. At the first sign of trouble, I’m outta there. Because nothing has ever been permanent. No one has ever wanted me.”
