Trey: Amelia, can we talk? I totally fucked up. Please, I want to try to fix this.
I freeze in my kitchen, my cereal getting soggy as I stare at my phone, speechless. I haven’t heard from Trey since the weekend we broke up. What’s changed? And does he really think there is a way to fix this? I thought I made it clear when I left that there was no way I was changing my mind about sticking close to my dad. I still don’t understand why he urged me to leave him yet had no intention of changing his mind about our future. He sent me away under a ruse that he wanted what was best for me, only to attempt to pin me down. Aaron sent me away to make sure I thrived.
I can’t imagine Trey has had a change of heart, given his promotion and the new apartment.
Feeling a little sick to my stomach from being slightly blindsided, I put my phone down and ignore the text. Honestly, I think Amanda was right. I’ve already closed the emotional door to Trey. I can’t process this right now. It’s been over a week since I left him, yet I’m not a mess. I’m disappointed in his choices, in the sadness associated with our breakup, but I’m not heartbroken.
I need to move so I’m not late for work. Catching my breath and steadying my heart, I focus on my day, pushing thoughts of Trey’s text out of my head.
***
Aaron: Want me to grab dinner for tonight? I can pick up some Nirchi’s pizza and bring it to the nursing home.
Amelia: Only if you want to. Don’t feel like you need to.
Aaron: I’ll get half Buffalo and half pepperoni since your dad is a classic man when it comes to his pizza.
Amelia: He’ll like that. Hopefully he’ll eat it.
Aaron: If he doesn’t, it’s no big deal. Maybe I should get some half-moon cookies too.”
Amelia: Now you’re just trying to suck up.
Aaron: And that’s bad because . . .
Amelia: Don’t you want to play hard to get?
Aaron: Not even a little. I’m showing all my cards, babe. I want you and I’ll do anything to make sure you’re mine again.
Amelia: And half-moon cookies are your way to my heart?
Aaron: It’s a start.
Amelia: It’s a good one.
Aaron: I better get back to work. I’ll see your pretty face tonight.
Amelia: Don’t hammer your finger.
Aaron: Lol, noted.
This has been our week. Fun texts that affirm our friendship. I know his intent, but he is also being patient and thoughtful.
***
I pull into the parking lot of the nursing home and spot Aaron sitting on the back of his truck with the tailgate down, his long legs dangling, and a huge smile on his face when he sees me. His hair is wet and styled, he’s changed into a pair of khaki chinos, and a navy-blue button-up that makes his eyes pop. When he hops off the back of his truck, I see he’s tucked in his shirt and is wearing a belt. I smile to myself remembering the outfit he wore when he first met my father. He learned from his “mistake” and wears a belt this time. And it makes me sad that Dad may not notice.
I grab my purse and when I go to reach for my door, Aaron is already opening it. He greets me with a huge, heart-stopping grin. “Hey baby.”
“Hi, you.” I look him up and down once again. “You look very handsome. When did you get a chance to take a shower?”
“Stopped at the gym on the way here and used the showers.” He shrugs shyly. “I didn’t want to smell bad.”
A laugh pops out of me. “I’m sure you didn’t smell bad.”
“Babe.” He gives me a pointed look. “I just finished doing manual labor for eight hours straight—I smelled.” He helps me out of my car, our hands linking together. He pulls me in for a quick hug and takes me over to his truck. He opens the passenger side door, never letting go of my hand and picks up a sheet of pizza from Nirchi’s with a bakery box on top. Half-moon cookies. This man is too good.
“You didn’t have to get pizza and cookies.”
“I wanted to.” He squeezes my hand and looks at the building. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous.”
“Why?”
“Uh . . . the last time your father spoke to me was before we broke up.”
“You afraid he’s going to punch you?” I joke, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.
“A little.” He chuckles.
I pull on his hand toward the entrance. “Come on, it’ll be fine. And if he does decide to punch you, let him.” I give him a sly smile.
When we walk into the nursing home, we’re immediately hit with a wave of heat. It’s unseasonably warm today, but the nursing home is always at least ten degrees warmer for the residents. Aaron leans down to me and whispers, “Holy fuck, it’s hot in here.”
I chuckle and say, “You might want to roll up your sleeves.”
“Yeah, you’re not kidding.”
“Amelia, it’s wonderful to see you,” Darra at the front desk says. “And who is this young man who’s joined you?” She eyes Aaron and smiles.
“This is my friend, Aaron,” I say, feeling awkward calling him my friend, but I’m sure as hell not going to say boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend for that matter. That would be even more awkward.
“Aaron, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Darra.”
“Darra, what a pretty name. Pleasure’s mine.”
My brows cinch together in confusion as I look up at Aaron. Look at Mr. Charmer over there. My, my, my.
“Oh, isn’t he dreamy?” Darra gushes and puts a pen on the sign-in sheet. “Just sign in for me and you can head upstairs to visit your father.”
“Thank you.” I don’t agree with her on the dreamy part, because I’m not ready to admit that out loud in front of Aaron. His ego is already big, and I don’t need to inflate it any more than it is.
All signed in, we head to the second floor. The nursing home is quiet today, not much going on, and I wonder if it’s because the holiday is over and visitors have gone back home. That makes me sad, because it must be so lonely for them. It’s one of the reasons I moved closer. Dad deserves more than biannual visits.
“It’s nice in here,” Aaron says as we make our way to my dad’s room. “I’ve always thought nursing homes were cold and uninviting, but it seems like a comfortable residence.”
“It is and the staff is loving. I’m glad Dad is taken care of here.” I eye Dad’s room but turn toward the nursing station where I spot Heather. I wave at her and in return, I get a sad smile. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Aaron asks, concern is his voice.
Heather approaches. “Amelia, how are you?”
“Good. How’s Dad?”
The sad smile fades and a disheartened look crosses over her face. “It’s been a bad day. He’s been very confused since morning so much that he lashed out and we had to sedate him again. Last time I checked, he was sleeping.”
My hopes for a good visit fall flat. I’m trying to stay positive, but it’s so hard to tamp down my sadness with every visit. I just want my dad back.
“I’m not sure he’s up for visitors, sweetie.” Heather squeezes my arm, and I can feel the tears starting to form.