Free Aidan by Sydney Landon

on the top of the covers. I should leave now, but I allow myself to have these last hours in the place where Aidan Spencer came so very close to stealing my heart. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve cupped my reconstructed breast in my hand. It’s ridiculous, but I blame it for so much. This imposter that has taken over my life and sent me into a tailspin of depression and despair. For one insane moment, I feel the almost overwhelming urge to find a knife and hack it off as if everything will go back to normal after that. I hate it. Hate. It. I want my life back. If only cutting it off would give me that.
    But it won’t. I’ll never be the girl I was before breast cancer, and this carefully constructed breast that I hold such disdain for did nothing wrong. It simply keeps me from feeling like less of a woman. And God forbid I go around with only one breast. That might make everyone around me uncomfortable. Poor Kara Jacks. She only has one good tit now. My thoughts are so irrational that I can’t help but laugh. It’s a crazy sound in the silent room. I’m a survivor; I’m supposed to be stronger than this. I should be speaking about the power of positive thinking at events. Visiting the hospitals to encourage others battling cancer and handing out those little pink ribbons. Sometimes, I think the fact I lived was a mistake. Shouldn’t remission be reserved for someone who would make the most of their life instead of cowering away from the world? Just how long is this pity party going to last before I am forced to admit that I’m plain fucking nuts now? Yes, that’s right, God, you wasted your healing power on me. I can’t figure out how not to be a victim.
    I’m startled out of my dark thoughts by the text tone on my phone. I fumble around on the nightstand and hit a button to light the screen. When I see that it’s a message from Aidan, I eagerly open it.
    Miss you already, princess. Soon.
    Damn you. Missing you already, princess. How is it possible that I miss him too? I’m not a princess. I may have once thought I lived a charmed life and could leave my ivory tower on the rare occasion, but I’d never been a snob. I’d never held myself above others. Right now, my crown has well and truly slipped.I sniff and know that yet another round of tears are imminent. Why couldn’t he be the playboy he’s reputed to be? He could have fucked my brains out and then moved on. But nooo, he had to turn into this perfect man along the way. Sweet, funny, dirty, and possessive. I doubt there’s a woman out there who doesn’t have most of those things on her wish list. I picked him up that first night thinking he’d make me forget everything. The man was supposed to be a god in the sack, and I’d been attracted to him since our first meeting at Luc and Lia’s wedding. That had been right after I’d finished my chemo and had decided to dye my naturally blond hair almost black. There had been a moment that day when our eyes had connected and lingered for just a second longer than the standard greeting. He had been so solemn, so sad, even though it was his best friend’s wedding day. I’d laughed at all the right moments and smiled when I had to, but I’d felt the same. Shortly after that, I’d heard through the family grapevine that he’d left town for an unknown amount of time. Even then, not knowing his entire story, I’d understood his need to flee because I’d been fighting the same urge. Who would have ever guessed that a year later our paths would cross many miles from home? Again, the word fate or even destiny comes to mind. Which is probably pretty accurate because that bitch isn’t finished with me yet. Dangling someone like Aidan in front of me knowing I can’t keep him is about as cruel as the fear I have that my cancer will return . . . Only that time I won’t be one of the “lucky ones.”

6
    Aidan
    T he sun is just beginning to rise when I drive down the street I grew up on. It’s an old,