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.”
“No, Ari.” His heart broke for her. “That’s not true.”
“It is. At least”—she swallowed hard—“it always has been. Which is why instead of talking things through with you like a rational human being, I ran away.” She sucked in another breath, and it shook through her. “I should have been brave and stayed to face you. But I let my past take over again so that I immediately gave up all hope of a better future.”
How could he ever have thought she was too young, too naive? Ari had the wisest soul of anyone he’d ever known. Except maybe Susan. That was the highest compliment.
And he’d let his past take him over too. “Ari—”
She reached for him, finally putting her hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch filling him. “I’m not done yet.”
He shut his mouth.
“I made a mistake in not talking to you about taking off Noah’s training wheels…but I don’t want to be afraid you’ll freak out the next time I let Noah do something I think is perfectly reasonable.”
The next time? Did that mean she could forgive him?
Hope unfurled inside him. “I know how capable you are.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t today.”
“That was a mistake.” One he swore he’d never make again.
“What if I told you I think his water wings should come off too? And what if, the next time he wants to work with you at the stove or you get out your toolbox to fix something around the house, I say you should let him help?”
His gut reaction had always been to say no, and it was hard to bite the word back. “We can talk about all those things, and I promise that I’ll consider your advice without freaking out.” Wanting her to understand, he explained, “I can’t forget how small he was when he came into the world and the nurse put him in my arms.” It had been the best—and most overwhelming—moment of Matt’s life. “I could practically hold him in one hand. I was terrified I’d drop him. I didn’t know the first thing about babies, and when Irene took off because she didn’t know how to take care of a kid, what she forgot was that I didn’t know either. I never wanted to do the wrong thing.”
“I know you don’t,” Ari said. “But what if I push up against another boundary that I don’t know is there? I need to know more, Matt. I need you to let me in. All the way in.”
He stilled. The only sound in the room was the beating of his heart as she waited for him to actually figure out his shit. No one but the Mavericks knew how bad his past was, but Ari wasn’t only in the inner circle.
She was the very heart of it.
“When I was eight, I fell off my bike and broke my arm. My father told me I was a whiner, a weenie. And he refused to take me to the doctor.”