Chapter Twenty-One

Aiden

W hen the doctors first told me my mom had early onset Alzheimer’s disease, I was clueless. Her parents, my grandparents, died in a car accident when I was younger, so I never had to watch anyone close to me age. Especially not like this. It started slow at first, nearly unnoticeable forgetfulness and confusion. Mom was increasingly scatterbrained after a long day, but nothing extreme. Eventually the symptoms became more obvious, and we knew something was wrong.

Once Evie and I learned more about her condition, we surrounded Mom with a healthcare team we trusted. We felt confident that we could keep her at home with a few extra services in place. A medication reminder, a home health aide to come over on the days when Evie or I couldn’t be with her, and a local support group to help her cope with the changes she was experiencing. We tried our best to create a routine but eventually decided to move her into Evie’s apartment permanently. Between Evie’s classes and my hectic work schedule, we cared for her the best we could manage. I stayed at their place for the most part, bunking on an air mattress in the living room and only returning to my own apartment after games to shower and grab fresh clothes for my overnight bag. It worked for a while but became more exhausting as time went on and her condition worsened.

As much as I wish we could have avoided my mom living in a care facility, it wasn’t possible. That much was clear when she accidentally started a small fire in the kitchen. Evie had run downstairs for a few minutes to get the mail. Thankfully, both Mom and Evie were fine. But getting that call shook me up and reminded me how fragile our situation was and how quickly things can change. We knew that we needed more help, and it gutted me. She’s been living here for a few years now, and the staff are great.

My mom is the strongest person I know. A single mom raising two kids? Those are the women who change the world without ever getting the recognition they deserve.

The grief that pounds in my chest on the rare days when she doesn’t recognize me is overwhelming. It’s stifling. It’s suffocating. But it’s not as bad as the guilt and the worry. Having her still living in Detroit hasn’t been easy. I hate the way it’s come about, but I’m grateful she’ll be in Columbus with Evie and me soon.

It wasn’t long after Evie and I spoke about her worsening condition, that the social worker reached out to us to give us an update and professional recommendation on behalf of the facility staff. Mom needs a higher level of care than they can provide. We were planning the move in a few weeks, but the new facility in Columbus that Evie found has an open bed now and they offered it to Mom. With her comfort and safety in mind, it felt like the sooner the better. I’m here to pick Mom up, drive her to Columbus, and help her settle in her new place. As much as Evie wanted to be here, her rigorous school schedule wouldn’t allow her to make the trip. Hopefully, she can meet up with us sometime tomorrow night once we’re back in town.

The drive to Detroit goes quickly. I pull into the familiar parking lot, having made countless trips here to visit the woman who is responsible for the man I am today. The exterior of the building is lit up with holiday lights and decorations.

I pause and allow myself one more moment to close my eyes and visualize Bec before I have to face the reality of my situation. The graceful sway of her curves as she moves, her carefree laugh that draws the attention and smiles from everyone in the room, the way her confidence was outdone by her shyness when I left her apartment earlier today. I want to know all the different facets of her personality. Everything I learn about her only makes me more curious, and frankly, more addicted. I crave all the small moments with her. Each one feels stolen after having already struck out years ago.

I wasn’t planning on asking Bec to consider being more than friends when I went to drop Hopper off today, but I couldn’t stand there for one more second without at least planting the idea in her mind. When we’re not together, I wish we were. If she tells me she’s not interested, I’ll leave her alone and try my best to bury the curiosity she always seems to awaken.

I should have come right out and made it clear that I still wanted her when I first moved back. I should have told her how I’ve thought about her over the years even though the time we shared was brief. That she captured a piece of me, leaving a hole that aches every time I see her but can’t hold her in my arms. All I can see when I look at her, is the potential of something that feels electric.

And fuck me, seeing her vibrator and hearing her confess to using it in the shower…well, that lit up my imagination like a goddamn Christmas tree. I may have been joking in the moment, but the visual has me fighting to keep my attention on where I am and why I’m here and not on the lewd images and fantasies my mind spent most of the drive dreaming up. I couldn’t stop picturing Bec in the shower, fucking herself roughly with her hot-pink toy, calling out my name as she made herself come .

Driving with a hard-on is as fucking distracting and uncomfortable as you’d think.

I shake thoughts of Bec away, and the comfort they brought me lingers, making all of this feel slightly easier. That special something I recognized when we first met is still there, beaming from her like a light in the dark. When Mom got her diagnosis, she asked Evie and me to promise that we’d pursue our dreams no matter what. A life with someone like Bec? I can’t imagine a better way to describe it than a dream come true.

* * *

Aiden: Hey Bec, just got to my hotel. Is Hopper behaving for you?

Bec: You tell me…(picture attached)

Aiden: Wow, he didn’t waste any time getting comfortable. Doesn’t look like he left you any room in that bed.

Bec: I’m enabling him. I should make him move, but it’s more fun to spoil him.

Aiden: Says the certified dog trainer. Aren’t you supposed to set the gold standard? Enabling him is what I do…what other bad habits should I expect him to come home with?

Bec: I’m going to have to sleep twisted up like a pretzel on the edge of the bed tonight. I’m fully expecting to end up kicked to the floor with the way he’s moving around. So essentially, you should expect the same spoiled pup to be returned to you. You’re welcome.

Aiden: I expect nothing less. I’m just glad he didn’t destroy any more of your…things.

Bec: Can’t get your mind out of the gutter I see.

Aiden: Nope. My mind will be living in the gutter for the foreseeable future. Consider the moment locked in my brain…on repeat.

Bec: Wonderful…if you tell Dom, I swear to god. I’ll kick your ass, Price.

Aiden: I wouldn’t dare, Miller. Besides, we both know you’ll tell Ellie and she’ll tell Dom anyway. I just have to wait.

Bec: Goddammit, I hate that you’re right.

Aiden: Can’t hear that enough. I’m heading back tomorrow. I can pick up Hopper around 8 if that works?

Bec: Yeah, that’s perfect…though you might have to peel Hop off the bed by that point.

Aiden: Can I bring you dinner? I know it’ll be late, but this was a lot to ask. Let me make it up to you. You also still need to tell me how much I owe you for you saving my ass.

Bec: Are you kidding? You don’t need to make anything up to me, and you really don’t need to pay me. I finally have someone to snuggle with. I’m living the dream.

Aiden: Then tell Hopper I’m jealous. He’s living my dream. You still thinking about what I asked?

Bec: Um, yeah…

Aiden: Where does that leave us for dinner? Am I having a lonely dinner for one or can I share with the hot dog trainer?

Bec: Ha, at first, I read that as hot dog dinner. No hot dogs for dinner please.

Aiden: No, those are strictly for cookouts and ball games. I’m thinking something classy, like Antonio’s pizza.

Bec: Hm, you might know a thing or two about how to make a girl happy, Aiden.

Aiden: That’s the idea. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bec.

Bec: Night, Aiden.