Page 94 of Scoring Eden

It takes me a moment too long to realize she’s just insulted my intelligence. Not once, but twice. I let it go, though, because it’s not the worst thing she’s said to me before. Hell, it’s not even up there with the worst things she’s said to me today.

She gives me one last withering glare and lets herself out, leaving me alone to process that yet another person has accused me of falling in love with Eden…and wondering how many more people have to tell me the same thing before I start listening.

TEXT THREAD BETWEEN ALEX AND ASPEN

Aspen: Just so you know, I still have your credit card, and I’m considering using it to buy a new Dior purse as compensation for my help today.

Alex: I’ve already compensated you for your help today.

Aspen: How’s that now?

Alex: Have you checked the balance on your college loan recently?

Aspen: Wait, what?

Aspen: It’s zero.

Aspen: Alex, what is this? What have you done?

Alex: You’re welcome.

Alex: And please return the card, or I’ll have you arrested for credit card fraud.

TWENTY-SIX

EDEN

“Mom, look! It looks just like home!” Macon bounces at the other end of the hallway, bags and shoes discarded by the front door in his haste to see Alex.

After I picked Macon up from school, I took him down to the Museum of Pop Culture to check out their new gaming exhibition, followed by dinner and a walk by the waterfront. It’s at least an hour past Macon’s bedtime now, but the truth is, after all the shit that has happened over the past couple of months, I just needed some time with my favorite person in the world…to find my footing again and remind myself what I’m doing this all for.

Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding Alex. A mature woman who can handle the awkwardness of rejection, I am not—regardless of the fact that he clearly wants something more with me yet won’t allow himself to have it. Rejection is rejection, and it burns like a blade in the gut.

Thankfully, I’ve managed to hide my inner turmoil from my son. So well, in fact, that he spent most of the evening asking when we could go back to the apartment so he could play video games with the guy who just splintered my heart.

“Mom. Come on!”

I put his things away then follow apprehensively behind him, curious as to what has got him so excited. And then I freeze.

Because the bleakness of the old monochromatic decor has been transformed into soft pinks and creams. My bewildered gaze studies every soft furnishing, all of it brand new yet familiar enough in its style that I find something easing in my soul, like it’s releasing a sigh of relief to be surrounded by the feeling of home when it’s been feeling so lost recently.

Alex is standing behind the island, his hands resting on the countertop as he watches me take in the new space with his lip caught between his teeth. There’s what looks like a half empty bottle of lager in front of him and sleepless shadows under his eyes.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him since our conversation last night.

“What is this?”

Just last night, he was telling me that we could never be together, and now he’s redecorated his entire apartment to make it feel more like home for me. What have I missed? How did we get from that to this?

Sweatpants hang low from his hips as he moves around the island, pausing to greet Macon and ruffle his hair.

Then he steps up to me. There’s something so sad in his expression that I can’t stand to look at it, so I drop my gaze to the rosy vintage rug beneath my feet.

Warm fingers meet my chin, tipping it up until I’m forced to meet his eyes, and my wretched heart catches wings and takes flight.

“Do you like it?”

He’s so serious. There’s no hint of his usual playfulness, no flirtatious smile, not a wink of a dimple in sight.