Something else I’d learned in life, between college and abuse, was that written, dated notes were everything.
Our meeting had been brief. Everything that needed to be said was documented in my email. He’d apologized profusely and been adamant that Rob would no longer be welcome at the company. Although I was relieved that he wasn’t trying to blame me, I refused to thank him for taking action only after being forced into it.
Jim wasn’t an awful person, nor was he necessarily a bad employer, overall. He just hadn’t taken my complaints seriously until now. He fell under the long list of people who brushed “harmless” harassment accusations under the proverbial rug. “That’s just how he is” or “He was just flirting.” I wasn’t even angry, only disappointed.
Jim sent me home immediately after, promising to pay me for the rest of the day, and I’d called Layla the moment I started my vehicle.
“Do you want me to come home?”
I turned into my driveway, wanting nothing more than for this day to be over. But hey, glass half full, at least I’d gained a few hours to laze about the house before I needed to pick up Jamie.
“No, enjoy your time with lover boy after work. I’ll probably take a shower and rest.”
“Bish, no you won’t. You’d make it one minute before picking up a damn textbook.”
I laughed, the sound feeling foreign in my husk of a chest. She knew me way too well. “I’m hanging up.”
“Love you, wench.”
I turned off the ignition and stepped out onto the drive, heels dangling from my hand. Something looked different. I tilted my head, examining the house, trying to pinpoint what it was. My brows met my hairline. My yard was mowed, and my fence was…white.
From the day we’d moved in, it’d been almost solid green from the massive amount of pollen that saturated the air each year. The landlord never came out to do anything—hello, broken dishwasher—and I didn’t have the means to do it. I didn’t even own a garden hose.
I allowed my heart to get a little excited. Sure, he was supposed to call before showing up, but if he’d done this, then maybe he’d actually fixed the dishwasher as well. I crossed my fingers, hoping this was a sign that life was going to give me a break.
“Madison?”
My heart plummeted, excitement dying quicker than it’d come, and pure, unfiltered panic filled my chest cavity where it used to reside. It couldn’t be. Not today. Not after everything I just went through. I must have imagined it. Layla joked that my karma was cursed, but even this was pushing it.
“Madison.”
Fuck. I’d know that voice anywhere. I knew how it sounded when it whispered sweet words, how it dropped to a husky tone when he slid his hands across my skin, just as well as I knew how it sounded when it screamed and spit at me.
With my entire soul, I didn’t want to turn around, knowing how much it would hurt to lay eyes on him. I was so emotionally drained from the encounter at work, I couldn’t take another one. I’d splinter the rest of the way open and be stuck on my hands and knees, desperately scooping up the pieces.
But continuing to give him my back, where I couldn’t anticipate his movements, would be worse. I turned, meeting a pair of moss green eyes flecked with gold that had appeared in some of my happiest and worst memories.
I hadn’t set eyes on him in three years, and he looked the same, yet different. His hair was still a beautiful auburn hue, but he’d grown it out from the military cut he’d been required to have back then. It fell in soft waves above his ears, accentuating his eyes.
He’d thinned out, a pale, angular face staring back at me instead of the full, boyish cheeks he used to have. He’d never been what society would consider gorgeous, but there’d been something about him that had pulled me in all those years ago. That’d kept pulling me in, even when it should have pushed me away.
There was no pull left. Nothing but the chill of a tile floor and the throb of invisible bruises. “What are you doing here, Aaron?”
His smile twitched, becoming less relaxed. “You’re ignoring my calls.”
I inhaled and exhaled slowly, clenching the straps of my heels until my nails dug crescent moons into my palms. We were outside, in public. He wouldn’t touch me. “How do you know where I live?”
“Layla gave me your address, although the lack of numbers on the house did make it a little harder to confirm. I had to go through the mail to figure out which one you were in.”
Horror sliced through me. He said it with so much fucking pride, like it showed how devoted he was rather than psychotic. He was the one who’d gone through Garrett’s mail that day; he’d known where I was this entire time.
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe a little bit.” His grin kicked up again, and he moved forward. “She did give it to me, but I may or may not have misled her. She was more than happy to share when she thought I was your thoughtful brother trying to send a surprise gift to his nephew.”
The fucking bastard. Contacting Layla for my address was exactly something my brother would do to avoid a lengthy conversation with our mother. Aaron had always been sneaky; it was his specialty. A sly fox in a fluffy, sheep package.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
I wasn’t falling for his flirty looks and words. I had no desire to play whatever game this was, and he must’ve seen it on my face because his smile dropped away entirely. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. I don’t want you here.”
“Why do you always have to be dramatic? I just want to talk. If you would have answered my phone calls, I wouldn’t have had to come find you.”
“There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear. Please leave.”
“I have a right to talk to you.” He closed more distance between us, stopping only a few feet away. Standing at five foot seven, he didn’t stand over me, but that made it almost worse. I’d never been given the freedom of having someone yell at me from a foot above me. No, he’d done it nose to nose.
He raised his arm—to hug me, grab me, who knew—and I flinched violently, my own arm coming up to cover my face. A sneer ruined his mouth as he dropped his proffered limb. “Don’t fucking do that, Mads, I hate when you do that.”
“I’m pretty sure she asked you to leave.”
Both our heads twisted in sync, looking toward the individual standing on the other side of the driveway.
Aaron’s head whipped back to me, fury darkening his features into something foul and all too familiar. “You want to explain who the fuck that is?”
I didn’t get the chance to reply. It’d taken Garrett less time to reach us than it had for Aaron to finish the accusation he’d threaded in his question.
“It’s time you head out. She’s made herself very clear.”
Aaron’s eyes were boring into me so hard; I’d be lucky if I didn’t wind up with dents in my face. Dropping my eyes to his feet, I wrapped my arms around my body, not even knowing when I’d dropped my shoes. “Please, Aaron. Just leave.”
“No, you’re being ridiculous.”
Warm fingers brushed my arm, resting right above my bent elbow, and my head snapped up. The look Garrett gave me wasn’t far off from the way Aaron was looking at me, and it should have terrified me. But it didn’t.
His touch was gentle, and his anger soothed the creature crouching in the corner of my mind. Because he wasn’t angry at me. He was angry for me.
“Go inside. Make some coffee and put on a pair of those crazy socks you like.”
I nodded dumbly; my focus tied to the thumb gently moving across my skin before he dropped his hand. I turned away, refusing to look back at my ex. I didn’t want to see his expression. I already knew it’d be full of a hatred fueled by his own bitter misery.