I could tell that Julian didn’t want me to go with Aidan, could see it in the way he was trying to act like he wasn’t paying attention. In the way that muscle in the side of his jaw twitched, the way it always does when he doesn’t say what he really wants to.
But it’s something I need to do regardless. One, because even though the way I feel about Aidan has shifted and changed, he’s still the first love I’ve ever held. He was still my best friend growing up. And my chest still hurts when I think about losing him.
And also, despite what Julian might think, if he doesn’t let me bandage the wounds with Aidan, he’ll never believe me when I say that I choose him. There will always be a doubt, niggling in the back of his mind, wondering if I would have gone back if only I had been given the chance.
That’s not healthy for either of us.
I follow Aidan through the small hallway on the right into a small bedroom with a full- size bed. He’s clearly made himself at home; there are clothes strewn over the back of the desk chair in the corner, and the bed is unmade and messy. A corkboard is hung up on the wall, things tacked to the front. Walking over, I peer at them, curious to see what he’s been up to here while he was ignoring me and my heart was breaking over all the things I had to tell him but couldn’t get through to say.
There’s nothing except a map and a few written notes. I lean in closer, taking a look at what they say.
Last night was fun, with a heart and the name Jeannie.
“That isn’t what it looks like,” Aidan says from behind me.
My hands slip into my back pockets as I spin around to face him, shaking my head. I believe him, but it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t. “It’s okay if it is.”
He’s on the other side of the bed, his hands on his hips and his brows drawn in. He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “Because you love him?”
The question catches me off guard, my heart careening off the precarious cliff it’s been teetering on, spinning and flailing as it drops to the floor.
“Because I hurt you when I married him,” I answer. “And hurt people hurt people.”
He nods slowly. “Jeannie’s an archaeologist here. She was a friend…kind of. But the past few days, she’s been different. Off- kilter. We spent a night together watching funny movies and talking about things we missed from back home. That’s all.”
“Okay,” I reply with a small smile.
“So you trust me?”
“What?”
“Do you trust me?” he asks again.
I shrug. “Trusting you hasn’t ever been the problem, Aidan.”
“Would it have hurt you?” he continues. “If it had been more?”
“Knowing we got to this point so easily hurts me.” I swallow around the knot that’s forming in my throat. “I was forced into marrying Julian, and if you had just listened, you would know that I hadn’t given up on you. On us.”
“Don’t play that card with me,” he scoffs, his eyes squinting as he shakes his head. “You weren’t a martyr in our relationship, princess. You never stood up for me or us. To anyone. It was always me, screaming into the void, begging you for a fucking chance.” His hand slams against his chest. “Don’t be so surprised that I thought you had picked the better offer.”
His words sting, but I know they’re true.
“Don’t you think that means something?” I ask. “That we were willing to jump at the chance to trick my father, but neither of us were willing to actually sit down and talk when it mattered?”
He shrugs.
“I want someone who believes in my love for them.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Princess, you have to show someone you love them in order for them to believe it.”
My brows shoot up, clarity smacking me in the face and leaving behind a sting.
Aidan is right. Only it’s not him who I want to prove it to.
Not anymore.
And maybe it never really was. When I think about Julian being in Aidan’s place, if he were the one I knew my father wouldn’t approve of, I don’t think there’s anything in the world that would keep me from standing at his side and fighting for the right to love him.
My breath whooshes from my lungs at the realization.
“Do we still have a chance?”
His question surprises me because for me, this is closure, and I thought it was the same for him.
“Aidan…” I shake my head. “So much has happened— ”
“It’s barely been a month, Yas.” He walks around the bed and rushes toward me. “I don’t want to give you up. I’m not giving you up.”
I let out a humorless laugh, a dull throb pricking my middle. “I’m not yours.”
Turning around, I start to leave, suddenly desperate to find Julian.
To tell him that I see him.
That I think I might love him.
Right before I get to the door, a harsh grip spins me around, Aidan’s cold and chapped mouth slamming to mine. I freeze in shock, but it’s only for a second, and then my hands are flying up to shove him off.
Before I can, a throat clears from behind me.
I push Aidan away, and when I twist to see who it is, my heart drops, panic weighing on my nerves like a hundred-pound weight.
Julian stands there staring at us, a stoic look on his face, his eyes sharp and glossy like ice. His hands are in his pocket, forearms flexing.
“Julian,” I breathe.
He forces a thin smile. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
