Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (29 page)

Carter looked at Blake, then nodded his head.

“I’m guessing that it didn’t go so well,” Carter said. “Does she know?”

“No,” Declan answered. “She’s going to be so pissed off when she finds out.” He looked at Carter. “She’s going to kill you.”

Carter grabbed a beer and gave one to Blake attempting to slightly diffuse the situation, of which he had no details other than it didn’t go well.

“Well, Dec,” he said, “if it had gone as planned, she’d be thanking me.”

He took a swig of his beer, before setting it down.

“Can I ask what the hell went wrong?” he asked, frowning.

Declan shook his head. “I don’t really know,” Declan confided to them.

Blake added in. “Something had to get screwed up.”

Taking exception to the comment, Declan gave both of them a surprised look.

“Both of you are already thinking that it was me. How do you know that it wasn’t her?” he asked.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Carter said.

Blake laughed, trying to lighten the mood. He hit Declan on the shoulder.

“Really,” he said, “we want to help. What happened? Why are you here with us and not with her?”

“I’m not really sure,” Declan said, seemingly confused. “One minute everything was great. The next I think I was telling her I just wanted it to go slow—to be what it was, like…not get serious yet, and maybe, wait a little while before diving all the way back in,” he said.

Carter’s jaw dropped slightly, in a bit of shock at his brother’s naivety. “You
really
don’t know what happened? Are you nuts?!” he asked.

“Back off, Carter,” Declan said, defensively. “You weren’t there! You didn’t see us! Everything was perfect—physically. Then I started thinking, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay—you know, with the Marisol thing, and her knowing all the shit I have going on with my leg—before we got back together—if—if we got back together…”

“What the hell, Dec? You slept with her, and then you dumped that on her?! Do you know absolutely nothing about women?! About Aria?!”

Carter gave his brother an incredulous stare, and Blake stepped in.

“I have to side with Carter, here, Dec,” he said with a hint of disapproval, “that sounds shallow to me as well. You slept with her, and then told her you didn’t want it to get serious? You’re lucky you’re still standing.”

Declan defended himself.

“What did you want me to do? It was great!
She
was great!
We
were great together!”—He paused for a moment—“Then I started thinking about the situation we’re in right now, Carter. I have to protect her—from Marisol. Did you tell Blake about it yet?”

Blake nodded affirmatively. “He did. He filled me in on everything. I’ll help however I can, but that doesn’t excuse what happened with Aria.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m not supposed to worry about that shit? Her possibly getting caught up in that?” Declan asked, addressing them both. “What if the evidence points to her and we find out that Marisol was the one responsible for Lacey’s death? I can’t do that to Aria, Carter. I can’t purposely put a target on her back. If Marisol would do that to Lacey, I don’t know what the hell she’d do to Aria. She’s made no secret of the fact that she doesn’t like her. She’s even gone up against her, and given her veiled threats. Do you think I want to put the fate of the woman I’m in love with anywhere close to a possible psychopath?!”

Declan had a point.

Carter weighed his brother’s words. He showed more care for Aria than he had for anyone, and confirmed his suspicion that he was still in love with her.

“You have to tell her, Declan,” Carter said.

“No!
Absolutely
not! I am not pulling her into this shit.” Declan answered. “This thing between Aria and me…it’s there. I know it now, and I don’t know how I’ll work it out—how we’ll work it out. I love her—but I’ll still love her when we know about Marisol or not. Wait until you talk to Sergeant Henry. Then I’ll talk to Aria—and we can figure out if she can tolerate being with a cripple like me…”

His voice trailed off as his thoughts went in a different direction.

“Knock it off, Declan,” Blake said. “I’m sick of hearing about it.”

Surprised by his friend, Declan turned his attention to him. He was used to hearing Carter making comments regarding his leg, but no one else. Most people avoided the subject.

“I’m telling you this because we’re friends,” Blake started. “You’ve been using that leg as a crutch—no pun intended. Any time you wanted to be angry, drunk, miss work—whatever—you’ve used it. I’m not saying that it doesn’t cause you pain, and I’m not saying that you aren’t justified to be a little pissed when it inconveniences your life, but the way I see it, you’ve got a choice—move forward or stagnate! You can sit in your pity and grow to be a bitter, lonely old man or love your woman! Figure your life out
with
her. Chances are she doesn’t give a damn about your leg. If she loves you back as much as I think she does, you two will make it.”

He rested his case. Blake had been friends with Declan for a long time, and Declan had always respected and valued his opinion. This was the first time Blake had expressed such a strong one, convincing both brothers that his concern was because of his care and loyalty.

“I’m not coming down on you, Dec,” he added. “Actually, I want to see you happy—but someone needs to kick you in the ass. I figure after all the years I’ve put up with your shit, it’s about time I do it.”

Smiling, Blake didn’t make light of the conversation, just an indicator of his camaraderie with the brothers to help them both with their respective concerns.

Declan smiled back and looked from Carter to Blake.

“Okay. I hear you,” he said.

He took a long breath, and stood to go in for a shower.

“We’ll try to get all this figured out with Marisol,” he said, looking at them, “…and then I’m going to get my girl back!”

The flight home was very long and very quiet. Her intentions gone array, Aimee was a shadow of her normal boisterous self. Apologetic for the remaining few days of their trip, she expressed her dismay to Aria for a well-intentioned plan having gone terribly wrong.

Paige intervened in the initial talk. She had been privy to Aimee’s distress as they both witnessed Declan’s hasty departure. When Aria and Paige had returned from walking, Aimee was waiting to talk to her.

“I’m so sorry. You have to believe me,” she said to Aria the moment she came through the door.

Wringing her hands, Aimee was more distressed than Aria had ever seen her.

“What did you think was going to happen, Aimee?” Aria asked. “We’d just fall into each other’s arms and everything would go back to the way it used to be?”

Aria was more sad than angry with their friend.

Aimee looked as if she were about to cry.

“If you want to know the truth, then I guess, yes, I kind of hoped for that,” she confessed.

Aria’s voice trembled with emotion.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as the tears, once again, threatened to fall.

She reached for a box of tissues and dabbed the softness on her cheeks.

“I thought it was you that had followed me back to the suite, but when I opened the door, it was him standing there in the doorway,” she said in explanation.

Emotions undone, the events of the past day and night engulfed her. Paige came to sit beside as Aimee, too, began to cry.

“I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry,” she cried. “I’ve made a terrible, huge mess of things…and I’ve hurt two really good friends.” She was devastated.

Knowing that she had the power to let Aimee suffer with her meddlesome actions, Aria was tempted to let the brevity of the situation settle in—but that wasn’t her personality.

“Why did you do it?” she asked. “Please tell me the truth. You know everything we’ve
both
been through—I just want to know why? I want you to tell me the truth, Aimee,” Aria insisted, her voice stuffy from crying.

Aimee dropped her head, dabbing her eyes with the tissue.

“I did it because I think—No, I know—that he’s still in love with you…”

She looked at Aria, tears falling down her cheeks.

“I also think that, if you’re truthful, you’re still in love with him too.”

She moved to sit on the other side of Aria, apologetic for having the situation go so horribly wrong.

There it was. Truth in its raw form being taken from the shadows and put out into the light by a mutual friend. If Aria was as honest as she believed herself to be, how could she be angry with the truth?

Paige looked directly at Aria.

“I heard you say it on the beach, but I’m asking you—Do you?” she asked.

Aria started to speak, but her voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Are you still in love with him, Aria? Do you want him back?” Paige asked again.

She and Aimee looked to her for an answer.

Aria nodded and whispered her response, “I do…”

That was a few days ago. The remainder of that evening was very emotional for her—for all of them. Aria, usually reserved about her feelings, confided in her friends about how the evening’s events transpired, and how it convinced her that she was still in love with Declan. She also confided to them that she wasn’t certain what she was going to do from that point forward.

Explaining his reactions to them, they agreed with her that his need to protect her was misguided. They also agreed that she had to let Declan accept his injuries in his own way—and they warned her against trying to become his “savior.”

Aimee interjected in the conversation that, in her long friendship with Declan, he was strong-willed and independent, and Aria was the first person she had ever witnessed him allow to become close to him. She knew that eventually he’d work it out in his own mind, but she truly was convinced that he was also still in love with her.

Asking Aria to not give up on him, Aimee made one final plea.

“I know I may have screwed this up, but I did it for the right reasons,” she said, speaking into her hair as she gave Aria a hug. “You two belong together, I just know it.”

Aria gave her a squeeze. “I believe you—and I know you did, but you have to let me handle this my own way from now on, okay? I have to figure this out the way I feel is best.”

Aimee nodded in agreement and they separated, standing in the hall for a few minutes.

“Just remember that I love him, Aimee. I’m not going to do anything to hurt him on purpose,” Aria assured her.

Aimee, worn out with emotion, stood by her door.

“I believe that, but I love you both,” she said.

She looked at Aria with sorrowful eyes.

“Do you forgive me for screwing this up?” she asked.

Aria’s chest rose and fell as she sighed.

“You didn’t screw this up,” she consoled. “You might have forced us a little further along in the process than we might have been, but you didn’t screw it up—and yes, I forgive you.”

Both girls, completely worn out from the events, turned to go into their bedrooms, bidding the other goodnight.

Over the next forty-eight hours, Aria began to plan how she’d interject herself, once again, into Declan’s world. She wouldn’t push herself on him, but she knew for certain that he loved her—and
that,
at least, was a start. She believed that they could build on that. If she walked away from this relationship, she wanted to know that she had done everything possible to make it survive.

As they were flying, the conversation turned to the benefit for Lacey’s Scholarship Fund. Paige and Aimee filled her in on all of the details. They saw a gleam surface in her eyes at the memory of Lacey and all the incidentals connected with the function. It was three weeks away, and both Paige and Aimee wanted her to be there.

“You know, Carter mailed an invitation to you,” Paige said. Have you checked your mail?”

Aria smirked. “How would you know what’s in my mail, missy?”

Then she laughed. It was the first break in the tension since the fiasco with Declan. Her lips broke into a smile.

“Yes,” she said, “I did receive the invitation, and I wouldn’t disappoint Carter. I’m definitely attending.”

Both girls squealed quietly on the plane.

“This is great!” Aimee stated.

Aria eyed her cautiously.

“I’m not going to do anything. I promise!” Aimee said, crossing her fingers over her heart.

Paige appeared lost in her thoughts for a moment, then spoke.

“Want to go shopping?” she asked them. “We could get something new. We’ll ask Katherine, too. We can make a day of it.”

“Oh yeah!” Aria chirped happily. She loved getting together with them all. “That sounds great!” Tell me,” she asked, “how are they raising money for the Scholarship fund? Ticket sales? What?”

Aimee deferred to Paige for the details.

“Ticket sales, yes,” she answered, “but lots of silent auction items. Carter isn’t aware of how many and what type. We have items that go all the way from a week on a private island, to a dinner for two at a local restaurant. There’s an auction item to fit every budget. We’re hoping to blow him away.”