Vacant Heart

Chapter Thirty-Six

"You know, when you mentioned a nice crisp walk now that the snows nearly gone, I had in mind a stroll, Hughes. Not a marathon."

Aidan, looking fresh-faced and in his prime element, turns, hands gripping the straps of the pack on his back. He laughs at my moaning, hardly out of breath. It's early morning. The sun is seeping through the thick green tree tops, speckling light amongst the remains of snow and grass.

"We've barely walked a mile."

"I walk sidewalks. Paved sidewalks. Not..." I step over a boulder, "mountains."

He waits for me to catch up, regarding me with amusement. If there wasn't a clear admiration visible, I'd be able to get mad. He extends his hand and I walk into him, glancing up at his face, which could challenge the finest marble statue work, honestly.

"Do you want to head back, seriously?" he asks with a small smile. "No judgments."

"You're saying no judgments, which mean there are definitely judgments...because you're saying it."

"No," he laughs, shaking his head at my stubbornness.

"I'm not a quitter."

"I am well aware."

"How long do you usually walk?"

"To the end."

"How far is that?"

"Four miles. Four-here and back."

My mouth drops, momentarily struck speechless. Oh, this won't do.

"I'll give you one more," I state, mouth twitching to deny defeat. He bites his bottom lip, eyes sweeping over my face joyously and in that moment, I'm sure I'll walk until my legs give out.

"We really don't have to."

I adjust the gray beanie on his head, ensuring that it's secure. He's energizing to the touch, buzzing in our solitude, and the continued upward climb to this relationship we've worked for.

Three weeks have passed since the party, the party where he was truly introduced to my world. Since then, we've escaped to his as much as possible, both of us finding it much less confining than the busy city life. Victoria's even said hello when passing by me in the manor. She doesn't blink in confusion when she sees me there now.

I'm becoming a permanent part of their life.

My explosive story faded in a brutal way like most stories do when nothing happens, but it's kept my name in the mix, giving me the push back into the race after the Hughes debacle with Matthew. I'm back on top at The Chronicle, with no decline in sight.

Life is damn good.

I nick my head in the direction of the path, pursing my lips. "How can I resist, when you so clearly love it?"

We begin down the path together, and I lean into him to take the weight off of my poor, frozen feet.

"I feel good out here."

"You look refreshed."

"Well, that's you. I give no credit to nature for that."

My fingers toy with the necklace he gave me the night of my birthday, which I clasped around my neck and haven't removed since. A delicate silver chain, and two round ovals, one crossed into the other. Stumbling on his words, I heard infinite and never alone before I kissed him, and spared him from his anxiety.

"We're having dinner with your mother tomorrow, right?" he asks when I've lost myself in my pleasant memories long enough for him to move onto another subject.