Page 26 of Three Months Yesterday

“Hey.” The word is so quiet I’m surprised she can hear it.

But maybe I shouldn’t be, with how attuned to each other we seem to be.

“Hey.” Madison pulls the blanket tighter around her as she shifts slightly on the swing, silently inviting me to sit beside her. “How’d you escape?”

I chuckle at the question, taking the seat beside her. “Aiden.” It’s a simple word, but more than enough to explain.

“I’d like to say I understand him, but I really don’t,” she releases on a breathy sigh, silence consuming the space around us.

Considering we’ve only known each other for three days and barely spent more than an hour in each other’s company, the silence shouldn’t be so comforting.

I can count on one hand the number of people I’d be this at peace with, and that’s after knowing them for years. What is it about Madison that’s different? Is it simply that she has no idea who I am? No idea what my history includes? The trauma and disappointments I’ve experienced?

But that can’t be all it is. It’s not like I haven’t met people before who didn’t know who I was, or even if they did, they didn’t know every detail of my past.

Madison shifts, tucking her knees up to her chest and resting her cheek on them as looks at me. “I didn’t see you around today.” The words are soft, not concern lacing them but something else. And what does it say about me that my heart picks up at the thought she might be just as curious about me as I am about her?

“I went into town to explore more. I never really made it out of the square, plus I forgot to get coffee while I was at the store stocking up yesterday.”

“How do you forget coffee?” she asks in disbelief. “I wouldn’t survive without it.”

I try to fight the smile, but fail miserably. It’s cute how offended she is on coffee’s behalf. “It’s pretty rare I don’t have coffee in the morning, but I haven’t really needed it since arriving in town.”

“Hmm,” she hums, her eyes moving over my face before lifting her head to stare out at the empty street.

I wonder what she saw on my face before turning away, but I don’t ask. With her focus on the night around us, I take my time studying her.

She’s a beautiful woman, even with her sad eyes and hunched shoulders. Her honey blonde hair falls down her back and it looks so soft and silky I want to run my fingers through it, but I hold back, not wanting to freak her out.

“You okay?” I ask on a quiet breath.

I can sit here studying her all I want—and I’d honestly be quite content—but I want to know more about her. I can’t explain it, but I need to make her feel better. Bring back the joy I know she’s capable of.

She returns to her position, resting her head against her knees, her eyes on mine. I don’t know what she sees when she looks at me, but she must see something that makes her comfortable if the next words out of her mouth are any indication.

“I love my mom.”

“I know,” I offer, when she doesn’t continue.

Ruby may have made some disheartening comments during dinner, but the camaraderie between everyone was clear when I got here. They all moved around each other and the kitchen as if in a coordinated dance. There wasn’t a question the five of them know how to work together to accomplish whatever they need.

It’s been years since I’ve had the natural flow with my family, but I remember it, and I’ve seen it in Ryan’s family. People who don’t love each other and don’t get along with one another don’t work so seamlessly together. At least not that I’ve seen.

“I know she doesn’t mean for her words to be hurtful…” Her words trail off and it’s easy to see where she wants to take them.

“But that doesn’t stop them from doing just that,” I finish for her.

“Yeah.” Her eyes glisten with tears, and I desperately want to stop them before they break free, but I don’t know how.

Giving in just a little to my need to touch her, I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear before pulling away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She shrugs, a tear slipping out the corner of one eye. “What about you?” She lifts her head, wiping quickly at the wetness on her cheek.

I know she wants to change the subject, get the focus off of her, and I’m more than happy to help, but I don’t know what she wants me to say. “What about me?”

“Well, we established yesterday I know absolutely nothing about you, but you now know about my brothers, my parents, and the complicated relationship I have with my mother, so…” Her words fade, leaving it up to me to share what I want.

For a man whose entire adult life has been in the public eye, you’d think I’d have no issues talking about myself, at least in a superficial manner, but my mind goes blank.