Aubrey was to meet Ian later that afternoon at the Mayflower Teahouse, an outdoor café overlooking the waterfront. She sat at a table, waiting.
Ian walked in the front doorway, and Aubrey’s heart immediately skipped a beat. She sat frozen. His presence brought back a flood of conflicting memories.
Once the initial shock wore off, Aubrey saw Ian for who he truly was. He had a strong jaw with muscles that flexed when he was angry, kissable dimples, and piercing blue eyes. He swaggered into the café with a commanding presence, one that immediately caught everyone's attention. Ian was a well-built, stylish man who set the standard for all men.
“It’s not fair!” Aubrey’s inner voice cried out.
Ian noticed Aubrey and crossed the café to meet her. He sat down at the table without a word and remained silent.
Aubrey wondered which one of them would speak first, but a server came to the table.
“I’ll have a double espresso,” Ian said, waving the server away.
Ian looked Aubrey straight in the eye.
“I came here to apologize,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Aubrey had no idea how to respond, but Ian continued.
“I have caused a lot of trouble in your life and the lives of others in the course of my mental health journey. Hope still won’t talk to me, but I reached out to my brother Trent, and we are both going to therapy to work on our anger issues. We are both committed to it.”
This announcement left Aubrey wordless, but she had so many questions. It didn’t help that Ian was looking deep into her eyes with that look that made her melt.
The coffee came, and Ian said, “That’s all I wanted to say. I wanted to say it in person because I owed you that much. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
Aubrey took a few moments to let this all sink in.
All she could come up with was, “When did all this happen?”
Ian thought for a moment. “Over the past three weeks. I’ve only just begun. It may be too early to talk about it, but I wanted you to know. I didn’t want you to be afraid I was stalking you. Afraid of what I might do next.”
“Thank you.”
“My new therapist, who’s a guy, told me that my feelings for you got in the way of my progress. He said that I told you what you wanted to hear to keep seeing you. He said that I couldn’t progress in my treatment because I was enamored with you.”
Aubrey wouldn’t admit she was responsible for the problem. Better let sleeping dogs lie. If Ian thought this was his fault, so be it.
“In my defense, Aubrey, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. I couldn’t help but think of reasons to be with you. And short of cheating on Hope, this was the only way I could do it. I think Hope knew my feelings for you the whole time. But she was cheating on me with Vaughn, so I guess it didn’t much matter to her.”
Ian's admission of guilt, expressing himself authentically and genuinely, caught Aubrey off guard. She never thought she would ever hear Ian speaking like this of his own accord.
What was Aubrey’s next move? She thought she at least owed Ian a conversation. Maybe he had changed.
“Tell me about this new therapist.” Aubrey protected herself the way she always did, asking questions instead of answering them.
“I told you he’s a guy,” Ian said. “So there’s no chance of romance there. He’s a golfer, so that’s how we make small talk. No double entendres or flirting like you and I used to do. It’s good to talk to another guy, get their perspective. They can teach you how to act much better than any woman.”
Aubrey decided to let that one pass. For the first time, Ian was talking to her as a person.
“I realize now all the mistakes I made with you, including buying you expensive things to control you. I know that giving you jewelry implied a contract in which you owed me something. Something that you could never repay.”
“That’s a step in the right direction,” Aubrey said. Ian was saying all the right things, but Aubrey was still not fully sold.
“I know I sound like an ex-boyfriend apologizing because he was a jerk. Saying I learned my lesson. But I’m coming from a place of getting mental help to change, not promising I’ll treat you better this time.”
“This time?” Aubrey thought. “Does he think we’re getting back together?”
Aubrey had another question for Ian. “Who’s this therapist you’re seeing?”
“His name is Dr. Daniel Addams. He’s in the city.”
Aubrey was impressed. Dr. Addams was the author of the bestseller, “Made of Steel.” She had it at home on her bookshelf. It was a revolutionary method for turning hardened males into sensitive, caring men. Aubrey used it on Ian without him knowing, but if he got to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, she was glad for him.
“I didn’t know he accepted appointments,” Aubrey said.
“He does now.” Ian smiled wryly.
Aubrey had to laugh at that one. Of course, when a Henshaw wanted an appointment, they got one. Aubrey wondered how much Dr. Addams charged per hour.
“I’m glad it’s working out for you,” Aubrey said.
“Me too. I heard about Foster. It’s going around the country club. I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. But I guess that didn’t have anything to do with us.”
“No, it didn’t.” Bringing up Foster was a bit of a sting, but Ian seemed sincere.
“I guess you won’t be dating anyone soon,” Ian said.
“I’m really confused right now,” Aubrey said. “Between you and Foster, I’m all turned around.”
Ian took a sip of his coffee. “I’m here if you want to talk. I’m working on my listening skills. This might be a good time to practice them.”
“I appreciate that,” Aubrey said. “May I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
“When we had our sessions, did you get anything out of them?”
“That’s a good question.” Ian took a deep breath and exhaled. He put his hands on his knees and looked off into the distance.
“No,” he said flatly. “The whole time I was thinking about how to get in your pants.”
“At least you're honest. I’ll give you that.”
“Don’t be upset with me, Aubrey. I didn’t know any better. But I’m getting there. Dr. Addams has me journaling every day.”
“You mean to tell me, Ian Henshaw III is journaling his thoughts?” Aubrey was stunned.
“Don’t make fun.” Ian put his hands back on the table and took another sip of his espresso. He pouted like a little boy.
The same little boy that Aubrey thought she could fix in her sessions. Then she felt a deep shame. Had she taken some impressionable creature to mold into her own Frankenstein’s monster?
Oh God, she had. What could she do to make this right?
“I’m not making fun, Ian. I’m proud that you got the help you needed. I’m glad that you didn’t give up on your therapy, even though we weren’t a good fit.”
“We’ve always been a good fit, Aubrey. I just wish we had met under different circumstances. Maybe things would have been different. Although I would have probably treated you like Hope. Well, actually, I did treat you like Hope.”
“I see now that I was giving you bad advice. Like a standing weekly date night. It didn’t work for Foster and me, either. So why would I think it would work for anyone else? It was just a pretense to make my own marriage look happy. I’m sorry, Ian.”
“Don’t be.” He looked deep into her eyes.
It felt right somehow.
Aubrey had lost control of the conversation. All she could think about was how their relationship would be different if they knew then what they knew now.
Aubrey couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but she said it anyway. “Do you believe in second chances?”
“Yes,” Ian said.
“I mean, I sensed the attraction between us, and maybe that clouded the way I saw you as a patient.”
Ian knew this was true, but he wanted to hear Aubrey say it.
“And you know about Foster.” Aubrey’s eyes started to water. She used a napkin to wipe away a tear. “I’m guessing you know about him and Hope.”
“Yes,” Ian said. “I know everything.”
“You can’t imagine what it was like to go down to the police station and find out that your husband is a stalker. A pervert. And with Hope thrown into the mix. I didn’t know anything about his dead wife being blonde until I found her picture in the attic. We never talked about it. I thought it was for the best. Oh, God Ian, how did everything get so fucked up?”
Aubrey was openly sobbing now. People in the café noticed. Ian moved his chair next to hers and put his arm around her shoulders.
“We’re going to be okay, Aubrey,” Ian said. “We’re going to be okay.”
She didn’t want to acknowledge it, but Ian’s arm around her shoulders felt amazing.
Aubrey let herself cry for another moment, then gently shifted away to put some space between them. She couldn’t let herself go to pieces so easily in front of Ian.
“No,” she said quietly. “You don’t get to say that.”
Ian blinked. “Say what?”
“That we’re going to be okay.” Aubrey straightened in her chair, wiping her face again with the napkin. Her voice steadied as she spoke. “You don’t get to decide that for me anymore.”
Ian withdrew his arm, chastened.
“I appreciate that you came here,” she said. “I appreciate the apology. And I’m genuinely glad you’re getting help.”
She looked directly at him now. I still have feelings for you, but as you can see, I’m too emotional to control them. Maybe we can do a reset some other time, but not now.”
She continued.
“You were my patient. I failed you in that role. I let things blur because I was unhappy in my own marriage and because I wanted to believe I could fix you.”
She shook her head. “That’s on me.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” Ian put his hand on Aubrey’s arm.
“I know,” Aubrey said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you either. You were just what I needed at the time, if only you weren’t such a prick.”
Ian stared out into the ocean.
Aubrey watched him for a moment—the strong jaw, the carefully controlled posture, the man who had once made her feel beautiful just by wanting her. Damnit, she missed that.
“You came here to apologize,” she said. “You’ve done that.”
Ian looked up. “Is that it?”
“Yes.”
He searched her face. “Aubrey… I still care about you.”
“I know,” she said. “And I care about you. That’s exactly why this has to end here.”
She reached for her purse.
“You’re doing the right thing by staying in therapy. Keep journaling. Keep showing up. Maybe someday we’ll…” Aubrey didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“We’ll what?”
“I don’t know,” Aubrey said.
“So this is goodbye?”
“For now,” Aubrey said. “And maybe for good.”
She stood.
Ian rose halfway, instinctively, then stopped himself.
Aubrey hesitated, then added, “I hope you become the man you’re trying to be.”
His voice was rough. “And you?”
She gave him a small, sad smile.
“I’m learning how to stop trying to save people.”
With that, she walked away from the table.
The waterfront, with its sunny, breezy day and happy voices, made Aubrey sad. Only yesterday, this was a haven for her and Calder. Now, Ian had made her feel too much.
Her heart still hurt.
And she wanted it to be healed, to be full of love again.
Was it possible?