Love Novel 42

I sit cross-legged on Aiden’s bed.
My eyes hurt from staying awake all night, but I couldn’t sleep. Not after Aiden dumped all of that on me. I don’t want to miss the moment he wakes up and risk never finishing the conversation he started.
I blink the dryness away and stare out the window where the first morning light begins to slip through the blinds.
I’m lucky the house was empty last night, and Jake didn’t run into me practically hauling his unconsious son to his room.
Aiden is still asleep beside me, his face is peaceful, but he looks incredibly uncomfortable. I took his shoes off, but his
jeans and shirt stayed on. His face looks pale and his lips dry.
I know he’s going to have a massive headache when he wakes and that peaceful look on his face will turn into a grimace
from the pain.
I play with my fingers, wondering about what it could be that Aiden is hiding. What it is that Zaid knows, and wants me
to know too.
It’s torn them apart, and a secret that big pulls at my curiousity. I want to know. I should know, right?
Aiden stirs and my eyes drop to him.
He groans softly, and smacks his lips as he struggles to open his eyes. The moment he does, though, he turns to me. He’s
squinting, dark undercicles above his cheeks.
“Alina?”
I turn from him, reaching for the glass of water and painkillers I’d brought up a few hours ago. I hold them up to him.
“Here.”
He groans as he sits up, blinking fast like he’s trying to hold back a wave of nausea.
He takes the glass and pill, muttering, “Thanks.”
He downs the water, wincing, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Being hungover is no fun, and though
I haven’t had alcohol since mother turned alcoholic, I still have the memories of long nights with friends and terrible mornings nursing a headache.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
Aiden scoffs, rubbing his temple. “Like I got hit by a truck.”
I give him a small smile, but it fades quickly. “We have to talk about last night.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, we don’t.”
Frustration flares in my chest. “Aiden, you said something about Zaid and your mom. That’s important. We have to talk
about it.”
He pauses, then lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t remember anything from last night, honestly.”
He’s lying. I know he is. He’s avoiding my gaze and that does little to temper the frustration and anger in my chest. I want to grab his face and force him to look at me, but I hold myself back. “You can’t just brush this off.”
He meet my eyes, twisting his lips like he’s trying to decide just how much and what exactly he wants to tell me.
I try to keep my voice steady, to mask the anger. “I know you’re hiding something about the night Zaid got arrested. And
I’m not letting it go this time.”
His gaze sharpens, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. It’s only there for a second, becuase he has to take
a moment to breathe the pain of his headache away. “Are you saying you trust Zaid more than you trust me, Alina?”
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to scream.
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He makes it a competition, but it’s not. I’m dating him, not Zaid. It’s not like I’m going to go run into Zaid’s arms and
become friends with him. Regardless of my how my blood runs hot at the thought of him, the guy is still an asshole.
“This isn’t about choosing between you and Zaid. I just want the truth, Aiden. I want to understand what happened.”
He scoffs, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “But that’s all it’s ever been, Alina. Choosing between us.”
I shake my head, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He looks away, eyes distant. “He was mom’s favorite.”
My eybrows shoot up.
He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “Even after everything, after he was arrested, my mom still chose him.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, noting the sadness in his eyes. It feels lik he’s not here with me anymore, but
remembering. He runs his fingers around the glass and then sets it down on the bedside table.
I lick my lips. “What do you mean chose him?”
“That why they were together the night she died in that car accident.”
I tilt my head.
“He had just been released from juvie. Mom was upset about something and threatened to leave dad. She asked us to go
with her, Zaid said yes. I refused to go.”
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He swallows, slow and thick, while his eyes feel with unshed tears. He blinks them away before they can fall down his
cheeks.
My chest hallows out as I come to understand that Zaid might know more about what I feel, what I struggle with every
single day than anyone else.
Aiden’s face falls into a grimace. “We got the call that night that they had been hit by a drunk driver. Mom was dead.”
He grips his head, his fingers digging into this scalp and I reach for him. I pull at his wrists, trying to stop him from
hurting himself. His body was stiff, tense, his muscles hardened by the absolute terror that rushes through him.
“Aiden,” I whisper, sliding onto his lap and resting his head on my chest.
He sobs, his body breaking down with each inhale and exhale. My shirt turns wet from his tears and my own lips tremble
as my own tears fall.
I have never been held as I cried for my dad and Alex.
I’ve never shared my pain and now I wonder if Aiden ever has.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat over his head.
He struggles to speak. “If I’d just gone with them, maybe… maybe she’d still be here.”
I shake my head, knowing the weight of self imposed guilt. I don’t wish it on my biggest enemy. It tears you from the
inside out. “Don’t say that, don’t do that to yourself.”
I hold him until he can breathe normally and then we take a shower together, washing away the tears along with the pain.
I can’t keep my interrogation going. I still have questions about the night Zaid was arrested, but I can put that aside, for