The Proposal - Page 3/69

Three Weeks Later

“N, Thirteen,” the Bingo announcer’s voice droned.

“What did he say, dear?” Mrs. Petersen asked Emma, glancing down at her card.

Knowing that Mrs. Peterson was practically stone deaf, even with her hearing aids, Emma drew in a deep breath and shouted, “N, THIRTEEN!”

Mrs. Petersen smiled and bobbed her gray head.

When Patrick chuckled beside her, Emma arched her eyebrows. “What?”

“Come on, Emma, you’re a beautiful, vibrant young woman. What in the hell are you doing here at the VFW with me and a bunch of other old farts?”

She giggled. “Are you kidding? How could I miss Saturday Bingo? What about all the fabulous prizes I could win? That bulk sized box of Depends is calling my name.” When his chest vibrated with amusement, she wagged a finger at him. “Hey, you shouldn’t laugh. You’ve had a pregnant wife and daughters. You know lack of bladder control is serious business.”

His eyes widened. “Such a little sass pot, aren’t you? What a mouth you’ve got for such a supposedly sweet girl.”

Emma’s heart stilled as she heard Aidan’s deep voice echo in her ears, “That mouth of yours is trouble.” A raging ache burned through her chest, and she fought to catch her breath. Trying to push the painful memories away, she shook her head. “Well, you know the real reason I’m here is because you’ve been having dizzy spells and shouldn’t drive.”

He scowled. “Becky took both sets of my car keys before she and Liz blew town!”

“It’s Fall Break for their kids, and they’re only going to be in Disney World for four days. It’s not their fault they were worried enough about you to take your keys. It’s your own fault for allowing that damn Fitzgerald stubbornness to keep you from going to the doctor.”

“I have an appointment next week.” When Emma raised her eyebrows skeptically, Patrick swiped his finger over his heart and swore, “Scout’s Honor.”

“If you say so. I should insist on taking you myself to ensure you get there.”

Patrick groaned. “Great. Now I have another worrywart daughter on my ass all the time.”

Emma’s heart warmed at the notion of being considered as his daughter. Regardless of how she felt about Aidan, she could never, ever distance herself from Patrick and his love.

After a woman with a blue bouffant clapped her hands manically and shouted, “Bingo!” Patrick leaned forward in his chair, a serious expression washing over his face. “So are we not going to talk about the white elephant in the room?”

Emma cut her eyes over to him and grinned. “You mean the fact that one of the prizes is an enema bag?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Patrick huffed, “That is not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

She ducked her head, staring down at her Bingo card like it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. “I’d rather not,” she whispered.

“Look, Em, I’m sure you’re already experiencing the intense love a parent can have for their child. Aidan is my son, and I love him with all my heart.” When she jerked her head up to glare at him, he held up both his hands in surrender. “But that doesn’t mean I condone what he did to you. Trust me, I wanted to inflict bodily harm on him.” An amused glint twinkled in his dark eyes. “Well, I sort of did.”

Emma gasped. “What did you do?”

He chuckled. “Trust me, it was nothing that he didn’t deserve, or that my seventy-two year old ass could actually dish out!”

“You’re terrible!” Emma replied, but she couldn’t help giggling.

Patrick took his hand in hers. “I just want you to know I’m Switzerland in all this, okay? I love you and my grandchild, just like I do Aidan.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She squeezed his hand. “And I hope you know I would never ask you to take sides or try to keep you away from the baby because of what happened with Aidan.”

“I know that, sweetheart. From the first day I met you, I knew what kind of girl you are, and there isn’t a malicious bone in your body.” He paused and shook his head. “But if I don’t say what’s in my heart, I’m going to explode.”

Gnawing one of her already frayed fingernails, Emma held her breath, bracing herself for what Patrick had to say.

“I’m extremely worried about Aidan. It’s been three weeks, and he’s miserable, Emma. He doesn’t sleep, and he barely eats.”

The spiteful, vindictive side of her relished in the thoughts of Aidan’s suffering. She gave Patrick a skeptical look. “I seriously doubt that. He’s probably just vying for your sympathy and trying to turn you against me.”

“No, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He’s been staying with me because he can’t stand being alone.”

Emma widened her eyes as her heart clenched in agony for Aidan. Although a very large part of her delighted in the thought of him hurting as badly as she was, another part of her pitied him. As much as she wanted to despise him, she couldn’t. Every moment of the past three weeks, she had tried to bury her feelings and embrace the fact Aidan would never be completely emotionally available. To let him back into her life would be to walk barefoot over the shards of her broken heart. He would cut her again—it was inevitable.

But from the depth of her soul, she still loved him. There was a part of her that feared she always would—just like a part of her still loved Travis. She hated herself for feeling that way.

“Can you honestly say that nothing he has done in the past few weeks has softened your heart to him?” Patrick asked.

A tortured sigh escaped her lips. When Becky had said Aidan would try to win her back, she hadn’t been kidding. Not even being forewarned could have prepared for the initial barrage of telephone calls, texts, and emails. He had even tried coming to her office, but she had asked the security guard to remove him. It had been quite a scene with Aidan scuffling with the guard to try to get to her. He had then been warned by her manager never to come on her floor again.

Then he switched tactics. Her house soon doubled for a florist’s with all the flowers he bought. Every bouquet and every dozen roses he sent had a separate card filled with his ramblings of remorse, how much he missed her, and how much he cared for her and the baby. Since there was still no profession of love, she gave him the silent treatment.