Aaron must have been able to tell how distressed she was, though he didn’t know exactly how bad Jack’s situation was. He seemed to be searching for something comforting to say. Anything would do if it kept her from bursting into tears. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, sitting down on the side of the bed near her knees. “Jack’s a tough guy, right? He can fight this, you know? It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t sound very convincing,” she pointed out.

He ran his hand through his hair, and Cadence knew he was thinking about how to respond. “You’re right, I don’t. I’m sorry. Do you want me to try again?”

Cadence shook her head. “It’s okay; you don’t need to patronize me.”

“Oh, I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t trying to.” He sighed a deep sigh and turned so that he was facing her. “Look, Cadence, here’s the deal. We can all say hopeful, reassuring things, and that’s nice. It makes people feel good, at least for a few moments. There’s nothing wrong with that. Except for when it doesn’t turn out that way. And I have no idea if Jack’s going to pull through this or not. Of course, I hope so. I hope he makes a full recovery, and you see him out there playing baseball in the spring, just like you always have. But, sometimes that doesn’t happen. And we lose people. And it sucks. God, does it ever suck. But we find a way to go on—sometimes when we truly think there is no possible way to go on. Somehow, we find one.”

Tears were starting to make their way out of the corners of her eyes. “I just can’t imagine losing Jack,” she whispered. “I’m just tired of losing people. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I really do know.”

She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “You mentioned that before,” she replied. “What do you mean by that? Do you mind that I ask?”

“No, I don’t mind that you ask,” he responded. “In the past, it has been difficult for me to talk about it. But I’m willing to talk to you about it, Cadence.” She felt touched that he already seemed to trust her so completely. Taking a deep breath, he calmly stated, “My wife died.” He wasn’t able to look directly at her and instead stared down at his folded hands.

Cadence gasped, “Oh, my God, Aaron, I’m so sorry! I had no idea.”

“I know. It’s okay. I mean, it was a very, very long time ago. But, even when this much time has passed, it really doesn’t make it any easier, unfortunately.”

She had no idea he had ever even been married before, though it would make sense that someone who had lived as long as he had would have been married at some point. “Do you ever talk about her--to anyone?” she asked.

“No, not really. Not anymore. There are some incredible rumors about what happened, and most of the team knows about her, but there’s really no one left that ever even met Aislyn. And, she was a human, so even if she hadn’t gotten sick, she wouldn’t be alive now.”

“You fell in love with a human?” she asked, intrigued.

“Mm hmm,” he replied softly.

“And you married her, knowing that, someday you’d have to go on without her?”

His only response was a shrug.

“That’s incredible,” Cadence said. “And pretty damn romantic,” she added.

He smiled shyly, “I guess so. I don’t know. I loved her. There was no question in my mind that I loved her, and I didn’t care what she was. I was going to marry her. And so, I did, and we were together for a short time before she got sick, and even though I am what I am, and I did everything within my power, I could do nothing to save her.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, holding back tears again.

“Thanks,” he replied, nodding. Then he added, “So, I know. I really do know how you feel.”

She paused for a moment, considering all that he had said, being ever so careful to control her emotions. There was so much that she wished to say. Though she had admired him before, learning of his ability to love someone so unconditionally just intensified her feelings. After a few moments she finally said simply, “Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for listening. It’s been a very long time since I’ve mentioned Aislyn to anyone. But I feel like you deserve to know, especially with everything you’re going through with Jack.”

“And thank you for giving me another chance,” she added.

Her abrupt change of topic seemed to catch him slightly off guard “What?” he asked. “You mean on the team?”

She nodded, slowly, briefly glancing up to meet his eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me for that, Cadence. I should have never ….” He paused, as if he also didn’t want to think about the conversation they had had the other night. With Jack so sick, she doubted he’d say anything about the possibility of giving her another chance either. Not now anyway. Finally, he just stated, “Cadence, I was mad at the wrong person, and I don’t know if it was just my complete inability to see situations in any shades other than black or white, or if I allowed someone else’s judgment to cloud my own, but I realized after you left yesterday, you never would have broken the rules if they weren’t stupid rules to begin with.”

“You mean the observation protocol? I don’t think it’s stupid…” she started.

“Sure it is. A rule that says every single Hunter has to follow the same protocol even when they don’t need to, and it hurts the team? Yeah, that’s pretty stupid. So, I couldn’t hold you back anymore, even though it scares the hell out of me to see the risks you take. You know what you’re doing. You said you trust me, and I need to trust you, too.” Then he added, “And I do. I do trust you.” He was looking directly into her eyes now, and she could see the sincerity in his words.

Unable to continue to hold his gaze, she looked away. After a moment she said, “Good. Thank you.”

“Sure,” he replied, nodding. Suddenly, he seemed to desperately want to exit the situation. Perhaps he felt he had had said too much. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re exhausted, and I have work to do, so I promise I will let you sleep.”

“You look pretty tired, yourself,” she pointed out, not looking directly at him when she said it, hoping she wouldn’t think she was suggesting anything.

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically as he stood to walk back to his computer.

“I’m just saying, you really are allowed to sleep, too, you know?” She adjusted the blankets over her shoulder, and turned her back to him.

“I know,” he admitted. He flipped the lights off, and she heard him sit back down at the table. A shift in the remaining light in the room indicated he had turned the screen so that the light from his laptop wouldn’t shine into her eyes. “And I did sleep. Once. A few years ago.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s a big bed so you won’t bother me. Just sayin’” She was too tired to worry about how he may or may not take that remark.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, Cadence,”

“Good night, Aaron,” she said.