Will rose and joined them. "So where is Ari?"
Naturally, Daniel suddenly appeared on the terrace. "Looks like I'm missing something. What's going on?"
"Ari's not here," Will explained.
Daniel glared at Matt, immediately jumping to conclusions--the right conclusions. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"We had a disagreement about how to handle some situations that arose with Noah." He tried to keep his voice even and moderated. But he couldn't pull it off. "So we parted company."
He wondered if they could hear the translation: I lost my cool and yelled at her. I'm head over freaking heels in love with her...and I still couldn't stop myself from turning into my father.
"I don't get it," Sebastian said. "Everything seemed fine this morning when we dropped off the dinosaurs."
"And at the Halloween bash, you two were like this." Evan twined his fingers.
Meanwhile, Daniel was growling. "What kind of disagreement could have been big enough for you to part company?" He put the words in air quotes before he fisted his hands.
Harper and Charlie joined the fray, while over in the shallow end, an oblivious Jeremy whirled Noah around in the water. Matt wanted to shut out the world--so damn bleak without Ari--but he couldn't take his gaze off his son. Not for one minute.
If anything happened, he'd never forgive himself. Just the way he'd never forgive himself for what he'd said to Ari. For what he'd yelled.
"Noah's fine," Harper said, observing the direction of Matt's gaze. "Jeremy's a great swimmer and he loves Noah. He won't let anything bad happen in the pool."
It was just what Ari had promised. That she would always protect Noah. That she wouldn't leave.
Frustration--and the deep pain of loss--choked Matt as he forced himself to give them the basics of the story. Which didn't include him falling back into painful memories and losing his shit, damn it. He finished with, "Noah could have careened out of that gate right into a car."
Daniel didn't look at all appeased by Matt's explanation. "What the hell are you going to do when he's older and wants to know why he can't have a skateboard like all the other kids? You're going to stunt him."
"I'm not stunting him," Matt shot back. "I'm protecting him."
Throughout, Sebastian's hand idly stroked Charlie's hip. It was how Matt had wanted to be with Ari, touching her automatically, without conscious thought. Because he'd needed to. Because she'd wanted him there with her.
His heart ached watching them, just as it ached at the easy fit of Harper's hand in Will's. They were a unit that also included Jeremy.
Ari had fit too. Until he'd started yelling and driven her away.
In the water, Noah shrieked with laughter, then Jeremy shouted, "Come on, you can do it."
Noah dog-paddled to him, his face screwed up in concentration as he tried to do an overarm stroke. But with the water wings, he couldn't manage it. He wouldn't go under--but Matt finally saw that he couldn't actually swim properly with the wings in his way.
Ari had tried to tell him that. But he hadn't listened.
His father had never listened either.
"Did you fire her?" As softly spoken as Daniel's question was, it was still sharp enough to cut steel.
Matt had promised his friend he wouldn't hurt Ari. He hadn't just broken that promise, he'd shattered it.
"I didn't fire her. She packed her bags and left after I yelled at her for taking off the training wheels." A muscle jumped in his jaw as he forced himself to admit, "After I told her I didn't give a damn what she thought was the right thing to do for Noah."
He could feel the shock reverberate through every single person at the barbecue. They might be his friends, but it was clear they thought he'd lost his mind.
Evan spoke first. "You were a lucky SOB who could have had everything, and you let her walk away?" Anger--and a thick dose of bitterness--underpinned his words. "Are you crazy?"
Evan had never been a fighter. He'd kept his head in his numbers just like Matt had lived inside his books. Will, Daniel, and Sebastian had been the warriors, the ones who stood up for Evan and Matt, until they'd both learned to grab the world with both hands and twist it to their will. Evan was the contained one, the one who never showed his emotions, even though they all knew he had them. But today a dark fire lit his eyes, as if the emotion he'd banked his entire life was about to break free.
"You're afraid to grab what you really want because you don't think you have what it takes to hold on to it."
Matt's hackles rose, and even his fists bunched, as though he might actually fight his friend. He'd thought Daniel would be the one to come after him, not Evan. "Where the hell is that coming from?" No one else said a word, all of them equally taken aback by Evan's vitriol.
"The status quo, that's easy for you. It's going for it--it's falling for Ari and taking a risk by loving her--that terrifies you." Evan stabbed a finger at Matt. "You don't think we all see you're so scared that you're willing to throw away the best thing that's come your way since Noah was born? Just like an idiot?"
Matt heard his father's voice. Right there in his head. You're a little weenie. Afraid of your own shadow. Be a man. Buck up. In the yard, he heard his son's giggle, Jeremy's laughter, felt his friends' eyes on him. But inside him, his father's voice was roaring, Freaking weenie. Scared all the time. Stand up for yourself, you idiot.
Matt had Evan's shirt in his fists and his friend shoved up hard against a tree before anyone could stop him. "I'm. Not. Scared."
Evan didn't look away, didn't even try to struggle out of his grip. He simply stared Matt down. "Prove it."
As if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, Matt dropped his hold on Evan's shirt. Because he knew what his friend meant. He didn't have to prove his courage to the Mavericks.
He needed to prove it to Ari.
To Noah.
And, most of all, to himself.
For so long--way too long--he'd let his fears for Noah overshadow everything, even his common sense, so that he heard his father's voice in his own.
He'd seen only the worst and missed everything that was good.
Ari would never have let Noah reach the street. She'd stopped him, in fact. She had done everything in her power to protect him as well as Matt could himself.
Because she loved Noah.
And once upon a time, she'd loved Matt too.
His gaze on his son in the pool, he told his friends the complete truth. "She's the best thing that ever walked into my life. Noah loves her." Turning back to them all, he said what they already knew. Any fool could see it a mile away. "And I do too. I love her so much."
"Then what the hell are you waiting for?" Will asked.
"We'll take care of Noah." Harper leaned into Will as she said it.
Matt wanted the same kind of love she and Will shared, the love that had chased away all his friend's demons and set him free of the past. He craved the same kind of emotions that shone in Charlie's eyes when she looked at Sebastian, the adoration that overcame Sebastian when he held her hand.
Ari had given him all that. But he'd thrown it away because he was afraid that when push came to shove, he couldn't be there for her, that he'd let her down. When it turned out that the only surefire way he'd let her down was not telling her he loved her with every cell, every nerve, every muscle and organ in his body.
It was the only time in his life that he was truly the idiot his father had called him.
He and Ari could work out the rest of it--the water wings, the training wheels, the fact that she'd come to him as his nanny and had quickly become so much more.
If she was willing to give him another chance.
Moving to the edge of the pool, he hunkered down by the shallow end. "Hey, buddy." He touched the water wings. "Next time we swim at home, we're going to try it with the water wings off, okay?"
Noah's eyes went wide. "For real?"
"For real. But right now I've got to leave the
party for a while."
Noah stopped, his wings bobbing on the surface as he trod water, keeping himself up all on his own. "Where are you going, Daddy?"
"To bring Ari back."
Chapter Thirty
Sitting on the love seat in the window of her small apartment, Ari stared at the only place that was really hers. The Murphy bed was in its wall pocket, and used paperback books she'd bought at library sales lined the shelves on either side of it. She'd assembled inexpensive cupboards for her clothes, and the dishes she'd collected from thrift stores sat on shelves above the bar-size sink. She stored a few cans of food, some cereal, and a box of macaroni and cheese next to the dishes, which she'd hidden behind a pretty curtain because there were no doors. Her TV sat on a rolling cart she pulled into the middle of the room.
Her things were secondhand, but they were hers, and this was her home. But it no longer felt like home.
Not without Matt and Noah.
The heavy weight of despair crushed her heart as she remembered every word he'd shouted at her. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around her stomach like a child with a belly ache. In those awful moments she'd actually reverted to the little girl she used to be. The one who would have done anything to be loved, to matter to the people who were supposed to love her, and who'd finally figured out that wasn't ever going to happen.
That little girl was always waiting for the next bad thing, always ready with her bags packed. Ready for the next time her mom got thrown out of their apartment. Ready when someone at the foster home didn't like her, didn't want her, said she ate too much, that she stole from the other kids, that she back-talked. Often she didn't even unpack, but lived out of her bag, just in case.
She'd been living with her bags packed all her life. And when Matt lost it over the training wheels, she'd had that bag ready to go. With a snap of her fingers, she could poof herself right out of there and run away. Leaving had always been the only way.
But today, unlike any other day when she'd grabbed her bag and run, a little voice inside her head wouldn't shut up. That voice kept reminding her that Matt had never once been cruel--not to Noah, not to Doreen or Cookie. Not even to Irene, who surely deserved his fury for the way she so thoughtlessly flitted in and out of her son's life. He'd never been anything but perfect, and sweet, and caring until he'd believed Noah was barreling out of control straight into traffic--and all his biggest fears looked like they were about to come true.
Had she been wrong to flee? What if, once his panic had receded, she'd explained why she believed Noah was ready for two wheels--and Matt had actually listened? Could they have worked things out if she'd stayed to talk with him? If she'd apologized for not informing him of her plans, would he have apologized for losing it with her?
She leaned her head against the window, staring out. Below, a woman walked hand in hand with her young child. They each carried a grocery bag in their free hand, and though the little girl clearly had trouble hefting her bag, Ari saw the pride in the child's face. She was helping, she was an important part of the family, and she'd been trusted with bringing home the food they'd eat that night for dinner.
Noah was the same, always wanting to help with making a picnic or cleaning up his toys, offering to work side by side with Matt on outdoor projects.
If Ari had stayed, could she have helped Matt understand that he didn't need to be so afraid for Noah? Could she have shown him that his little boy was capable of so much?
From the start, she'd seen that Matt needed a partner to help him figure things out, someone who could counter his fears for his son. She'd wanted to be that partner, to be his family...and Noah's mother.
After everything that had happened, even with her heart feeling like it had been run through a shredder, she couldn't escape the truth: She still wanted those things.
But she'd run away instead of fighting for the two people she loved most in all the world.
She couldn't change her past--her mother's descent into drugs, her brother leaving, a string of bad foster homes. But she could change this.
She didn't have to run every time her feelings got hurt. And Ari refused to let her insecurities take over this time. Not when her heart was in deeper than she'd ever thought possible. Not when the most important thing in the world--her love for Matt and Noah--was at stake. Not unless Matt came right out and said he didn't want her and would never love her.
"I'm going back, and we're going to talk." Her voice was sure and strong, her words powerful as she picked up her bag and backpack.
She was going back, and Matt was going to hear her out. Even if putting her heart on the line again was terrifying--and the risk was huge that he wouldn't return her feelings--she wasn't running away.
Not ever again.
Their love was worth too much for that.
*
It hadn't taken Matt long to figure out where Ari would have gone. It still terrified him that she lived in this run-down neighborhood, but she'd taken care of herself long before he came along.
The lobby door wasn't locked, and he walked right in, hating that anyone could do the same. He scanned the names on the mailboxes. More than half had nothing but a number. The walls were covered with graffiti that stretched over the mailboxes as well. Finally, he found the name Jones written in small block letters, the apartment number below it.
The mixed scents of cooking followed him up the stairs. The aromas clashed instead of blending, as if they'd bled into the walls and started to rot. It was almost as bad as the old building in Chicago, and he expected to hear raised voices behind every door. But there was only the sound of footsteps above him. He turned on a landing, and his heart stopped.
Ari stood at the head of the stairs, one hand on the railing, a backpack over her shoulder and another bag clutched in her hand.
"What are you doing here?" It was obvious that seeing him on her stairs was the last thing she'd expected.
God, she was beautiful. Strong. Resilient.
Fearless.
Ari was everything he'd ever needed. Everything.
"I'm sorry." He couldn't wait for them to get behind closed doors before he apologized. "I shouldn't have lost it, and I'm so damned sorry. Please come back to me. To us. Let me make it up to you, Ari. We don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose you."
She stared at him so long he finally had to release the breath he'd been holding.
At last she said, "Come up and we'll talk."
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."