That was all he needed to hear.

Aiden opened the door and ushered her inside. Shutting Liam out.

Chapter Twenty-Six

While she drove them back to Tully Cross, Antonia struggled to keep her eyes on the road while checking on Aiden. He sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, staring out the window, tapping his fingers against his knee. Midway through their drive, Antonia glanced at him again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Aiden sighed. “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

Eyes back on the road, she nodded. When she slowed for a sharp curve, Antonia didn’t change gears fast enough and rode the clutch. It made an awful grinding sound that added to her anxiety. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she said.

“I can drive if you like,” Aiden said in a tired voice.

She shook her head as she maneuvered the gear shaft. “Absolutely not,” she said. “You just had the biggest shock of your life. Let me do this for you.”

He paused. “I’m fine, darling.”

“I’m sure you think you are,” Antonia said, checking her speed. Cars passed them as she hugged the rocky shoulder. “But you’re in shock right now, Aiden.”

“But you don’t like driving.”

“I’m not about to sit here and argue with you,” Antonia said.

Aiden went silent. He was back to watching the scenery and ignoring the elephant in the Volvo. She glanced at him again and found a defeated man who didn’t resemble the person she’d met in SuperValu several days ago. This Aiden slumped in his seat with a despondent expression. There was no wit or humor in his eyes and it killed her. If he wouldn’t talk about the bomb that had gone off, she’d needle it out of him.

When she and Octavia were girls, Antonia had a terrible time expressing herself. When she was hurting, it felt easier to hold it in. Her sister was there to needle her worries out with a calm voice and probing questions. In this stressful moment, what would Octavia do? was more helpful than what would Augusta do? If she behaved like her protagonist, Aiden would probably get his feelings hurt with a short-tempered “snap out of it!”

A softer approach was needed.

“One time, when I was in fifth grade, I got a terrible cold,” Antonia began. “I was blowing my nose every five minutes on those terrible paper towels from the bathroom and coughing up a storm. I should have stayed home, but I was working on my fifth year of perfect attendance and I didn’t want to ruin it. At some point in the day, maybe during reading groups, I was with some girls and I was talking about how important The Baby-Sitters Club was. I had a coughing fit that must have burst a blood vessel in my head because my nose started bleeding while I was going on and on about the merits of preteen labor. Only I didn’t notice until this girl, Vanessa Michaels, shouted ‘Omigod, ewww! Toni’s bleeding all over the place!’ Sure enough, I was gushing blood out of my nose.”