LIVELY POV

The meeting was in the same hotel we were staying at, so Keenan drove us straight there. Upon arrival, someone handed over a pair of shoes, a blazer for Aaron, and a blanket for me.

Keenan had arranged everything during a call on the way. The handoff happened through the driver's side window since reporters were already outside, aware that most of the Wallaces were staying here.

It was exactly eight, the time of the meeting. Laughing, Aaron slipped on the shoes, peeled off his soaked hoodie, and put on the blazer over his wet, clinging white T-shirt.

Despite the car's heater, his damp hair was flattened and messy, with strands stuck to his forehead and water still trailing down. It wasn't the polished version of Aaron Wallace the world was used to, but god, he looked good. The arms before they got into the blazer sleeves and his bulging chest, pressing against the shirt underneath.

Blushing, I looked away, took off my coat, and wrapped myself in the blanket.

We stepped out.

Flashes exploded around us, reporters shouting questions and chasing us aggressively. I kept my head partly covered while Aaron led us inside, his hand locked with mine.

"You go do your thing. I'll be in the room," I said once we left the chaos behind, and the soft hum of peace replaced the noise.

"It'll be fifteen minutes. Come with me," he said, eyes urgent.

"Aaron, your parents will see us together. I'm the reason you missed the exhibition and the ball. Now you're late for the meeting."

"I'm not hiding you from anyone. They should know we're together. I didn't need to be anywhere else but around you," he declared.

That look in his eyes. I couldn't say no to it.

"I won't sit with you. I'll wait," I offered.

He nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

I followed him through the lobby, led by the man who always hovered around Mister Robert Wallace the way Keenan did with Aaron.

My heart raced at the thought of facing his father again, but for Aaron, I wanted to go.

The meeting was in the hotel's large dining area. Unrelated guests sat at scattered tables, minding their business.

"I'll sit here," I told Aaron, and he nodded with a reassuring smile before walking off toward a table filled with important-looking people, where I spotted Robert Wallace instantly.

Aaron reached the table, and everyone stood to greet him. He shook hands and spoke with a confidence that seemed to impress the group, but not his father. Robert's expression hardened with disapproval at Aaron's disheveled appearance. He didn't bother hiding it, as they usually do.

Aaron seemed to ignore it as they all sat.

Robert's eyes swept the room until they landed on mine. I looked away instantly, pretending to focus on my breathing. That seemed like the smart move.

A man was playing the piano nearby, so I fixed my attention on him instead.

A few minutes later, a waiter approached with a cup of tea I hadn't ordered.

I frowned and looked up, ready to explain the mix-up.

"From Mister Wallace," he said.

My eyes darted back to the table I had been avoiding.

Aaron was smiling at me from across the room, barely paying attention to the conversation happening around him.

Flushing, I cupped my chin in my palms and smiled back, mouthing, "Thank you."

The tea kept me company until eight fifteen, when Aaron and his father stood to see the guests off. Whatever deal had been struck, they seemed pleased. The group exited through another hallway, and Aaron made his way toward me.

I stood as soon as I saw him coming, but my smile slipped when I noticed his father quickly following behind.

"Let's go. Don't turn around," Aaron said firmly, taking my hand and leading me away before his father could reach us.

Robert stayed silent, probably for the sake of the people still in the dining room.

That silence didn't last.

"Look at you. This isn't the son I raised," his voice rang out behind us as soon as the path we followed was cleared of audience.

Aaron didn't stop.

"Showing up at the meeting like some homeless man. You're not a child. You're going to be twenty-four, and this is what adulthood means to you? Just this morning, I thought I could be proud of you. Then you disappeared in the middle of your exhibition seminar and left me entertaining people I spent years building connections with. People who were here to do business with you."

The anger kept spilling out. Aaron wisely avoided the elevator, not wanting to be trapped in a small space with his father. We took the stairs instead.

The hotel didn't have many floors. Whenever we passed someone, Robert Wallace went quiet, only to start again once we were alone. Aaron acted like he wasn't even there. He kept his head straight and walked fast. His grip on me was tense, but not painful. It felt more like he was the one hurting. Even though all of this was technically about me, it was him I felt bad for. I just wanted to reach the room so I could hold him.

And finally, we did. He pulled the keycard from his pocket, swiped it, opened the door, and guided me inside.

"Do not say I didn't warn you," Robert Wallace rushed, just before Aaron shut the door, cutting his voice out of our lives for the night.

Exhausted, I leaned back against the door, trying to breathe through the climb up four flights of stairs, the things I'd heard, and the things I'd seen.

Aaron moved into the room without a word. He took off his blazer and tossed it on the couch, bracing himself on the armrest to pull off his shoes. When he stood up again and turned toward me, something had shifted in his eyes.

I stood straighter. He lifted the hem of his white t-shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. I stared, wide-eyed, heart pounding in the quiet.

My throat instantly dried up, and a fluttery heat rolled through my stomach as I took in his lean, sculpted torso. Everything he did felt like slow motion. I was mesmerized. But I also wanted him, desperately.

His messy hair framed his face in a way that made him look both wild and heartbreakingly soft.

Each step he took toward me made my body react. My heart was racing out of control. There was a deep, pulsing ache between my thighs.

He reached for me and pressed me gently against the door. I didn't notice the lights going off, but suddenly the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow from the cracked bathroom door. I liked it this way.

What meant more to me was that he remembered my boundaries.

I rose on my toes, craving a taste of him, and he met me halfway. His lips touched mine. His fingers slipped through mine.

***

We were in bed, naked. I had on Aaron's t-shirt, but other than that, we were under the covers with nothing else between us. He held me close like he was afraid I'd vanish, his head resting on my chest, his hair brushing my face. His breathing was uneven.

He shuddered once, then again.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Aaron, you're scaring me," I whispered, threading my fingers through his hair.

"Uh... I'm sorry." His voice was rough, and then he sniffled.

He was crying.

Panicked overfilled me. I gently tilted his head back so I could see him.

The lamp on the nightstand cast a warm light, and when he looked up at me, my heart cracked. His eyes were red and tear-stained.

"No, Aaron. If this is about your parents, we'll figure it out," I said, already on the edge of crying too.

He gave me a weak smile and cupped my cheek. "You're too good. I don't deserve you."

I blinked. What? So he cries for that?

He swallowed hard, his gaze steady but broken. "Liv, I know it seems like I can give you everything. Love. Money. Power. And I can. But there's one thing I can't give you. And it's something that will keep you from the future you deserve." A tear slid down his cheek, and my breath caught.

"Aaron, we're past that. You have me. I have you. That's all that matters."

He shook his head. More tears followed. "I can't give you a child."

What?

"I've been through treatments and tests for years. Today, the tenth doctor, the last one I had any hope of, called and said it's not going to happen. I'll never be a father." He laughed bitterly and rubbed his eyes. "God's punishing me. I feel useless. But that's not even the worst part. I've seen how you are with Bubble. How much you love him. How naturally you care. You'd be the most incredible mom. You deserve that joy. And I can't give it to you. I just can't." His voice cracked, and he cried into my chest.

This was the lowest I had ever seen him. I was in shock, unsure of where to start. I just hugged him, ran my fingers through his hair, and focused on breathing as a wave of emotions crashed over me.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and a sharp ache settled in my chest.

Ever since we had parted, I had wanted him to experience pain... severe grief, enough to remember the look on my face when he shut the door six summers back. But now, knowing I was the reason he was hurting, I took it all back. I did not want him to suffer anymore.

"I know it is not fair to you. You deserve everything, Liv. One day, you will want a family. You will dream of it. So I have to give you the choice to walk away. I will not stop you. I swear. But I..." He cut himself off.

"Aaron, I am here. I am not leaving."

I held him tighter, every part of me throbbing with pain.

"I cannot give you everything. I do not deserve you," he mumbled into my chest.

"Shhh... I am here."

I had done this to him.

I barely slept that night, even when he did. I spent it silently praying. I begged God to heal him, to bring him peace, to make him the man meant for me.

***

I woke to a room flooded with morning light. I must have fallen asleep crying.

I turned over, and there was no Aaron. I figured he was in the bathroom, so I got up and walked to the coat draped over the sofa. It had probably been returned with my heels by Keenan. I rummaged through the pocket and pulled out my phone. The screen stayed black. The battery must have been dead.

I glanced around for my luggage. When I spotted it, I hurried over. The charger on the nightstand did not match my phone's port, so I dug mine out, plugged it in, and waited. But still nothing.

Could the rain last night have damaged it?

I tried again. Plugged, unplugged, waited. Nothing. I gave up after a few more tries and accepted the phone was dead.

Just great.

My head was buried in my hands when the front door opened. I did not even have to look. It was Aaron. And I was right.

He walked in, sweaty and flushed, wearing a short-sleeve compression shirt and track pants. He held a water bottle in one hand and AirPods in the other, pulling them out as he spotted me.

"You are awake," he said, flashing that soft, admiring smile.

He took a sip of water and set the bottle down as he came closer.

I nodded, eyes locked on his chest, rising under that snug shirt. "Where were you?"

He reached the foot of the bed and started crawling toward me, sending heat through my body. My breath shuddered.

This gorgeous man, hazel eyes sparkling, was coming for me in daylight.

"I went for a run," he said. He lay on his back and rested his head on my thighs, which were bare beneath his oversized shirt from last night. He grabbed my hands and casually placed them on his chest, still staring up at me. "You smell delicious."

A nervous laugh escaped me. "It is your t-shirt."

He rolled his eyes and brought my hand to his lips, gently nibbling my palm. I shivered. He smirked when he saw my brows knit.

"It is you," he said. "You taste amazing."

Warmth crept up my neck. He just lay there, casually flirting, like it was the most natural thing.

That smirk stayed while his fingers traced my arm, slowly sliding to my shoulder, then down the slope of my breast. I trembled, my breath getting shallow.

"You like it when I touch you," he whispered.

Play it cool, I told myself. I tried to act unaffected. Like his voice, his hands, and his eyes did not affect me. But it was pointless. He already knew he could read me easily.

"Your breathing shifts every time I look at you. You tremble when I touch you. And when I kiss you or when I am inside you, your heart beats differently."

His lips were sinful. Full, flushed, and filthy. My eyes stayed on them, heavily hypnotized until a sharp sound broke the moment.

My phone. My hopes were up even though the tone was unfamiliar.

I grabbed it and tapped the screen.

Still blank.

"Ugh."

"What is it?" Aaron asked, concerned, his fingers tracing slow curves over the swell of my breast.

"Can I borrow your phone to text my mom? I think the rain ruined mine." It was probably midnight there, but I needed to check on them.

"Yes." He dug through his pocket just as the door opened unexpectedly.

My head snapped up, nerves kicking in. I braced for Mister and Missus Wallace, but it was just Keenan. I'd always found it strange how he had a keycard to this room. Sure, it was for security, but still. What if he walked in while we were naked, or in the middle of something private? The thought passed quickly. Since Aaron didn't care, I let it go. He probably has it handled.

Aaron stood, handed me his phone, and moved toward Keenan. "Why hasn't our breakfast been delivered?"

While they talked, I sent a quick message to Mom to read for Bubble, letting her know it was Aaron's phone and not to reply. Then I deleted everything and looked back at Aaron, just as he was finishing up.

"Oh, and Keenan, get Liv a new phone," he said simply.

Keenan nodded at the order and exited the room.

"You didn't have to," I told him, but he didn't respond.

He looked conflicted now. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, he lowered his head and took my hand, playing with my fingertips.

"We're having a family breakfast in the diner. Grandpa asked for it. I can't get out of it," he said with regret. "Everyone will be there. You don't have to come. You can stay here. I'll have breakfast sent up."

He was trying to protect me.

"I'll go. I have to learn to be around them, eventually." I smiled when he tilted his head, searching my face.

"You sure?" he asked, unsure.

"Yes. Aaron, what more can they do? I've already heard the worst."

He gave me a faint smile, like he knew something I didn't. I didn't press. I leaned my head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

We got ready in under thirty minutes. Aaron let me use the bathroom first, and I changed into one of the more modest outfits I'd packed.

He dressed back in a formal outfit, the way you'd always pictured a Wallace.

He took my hand like it belonged to his, and we left the room together. In the lobby, we ran into Keenan, who followed behind, listing things Aaron needed to know. But I tuned it out, as it doesn't concern me.

"Some of your cousins left for Lake Como this morning," Keenan added as we neared the diner from last night.

"Our flight should be ready. We're leaving after breakfast," Aaron replied, sliding off his sunglasses as we approached the long, full table.

His grandfather, parents, aunts, and uncles were all seated. Steven Wallace and his new wife weren't there, but his stepdaughter was. So was Emersyn, the only one who smiled at me.

"Come here," Thomas Wallace said to Aaron, setting down his fork and opening his arms.

Aaron released my hand, walked over, and hugged him.

"I couldn't be here yesterday, but I'm here now. You're not mad, are you?" the old man asked, looking up at him.

Aaron stayed leaning over, matching his grandfather's seated height. "We have to focus on our tracks," he said with a small smile.

The old man proudly smiled, his eyes drifting to me.

"Oh, come here too, my dear," he held out his hands.

Nerves tightened my muscles. I stepped forward, trying to ignore the glares from the rest of the table.

Aaron moved aside, and I offered a handshake, but his grandfather's expression twisted in disappointment.

"What is this? Give me a hug," he scolded.

Smiling at his teasing tone, I leaned in and hugged him, just like Aaron had.

"Very well, it's nice to see you two together," he said once I straightened up, gesturing for us to sit.

Aaron pulled out a chair for me beside the quiet girl, also new to the family, who already seemed to have lost her appetite. Her head hung low, eyes fixed on her plate. She didn't look at me, but it didn't feel like disdain.

Every time I'd seen her, she had been like this, somewhere else entirely.

"Hey, love!" Emersyn said brightly, stretching her hand past the girl to reach me. I took her fingers and gave a light squeeze, offering a polite smile.

"Look, Robert, your son finally remembered he's not Tarzan and put on shoes," Kathleen Wallace mocked from across the table.

I heard her but didn't look up as the waiter began setting down plates.

"You could at least have mercy and let him wear shoes if he's become too idiotic under your leash to remember his basic needs," Cynthia Wallace aimed directly at me. "Bernard," she called, and a butler brought over a newspaper, laying it in front of Aaron.

The headline showed a photo of the two of us on the street yesterday.

Perfect. Apparently, there would always be a new headline about us every morning.

"Kids, I understand you just want to have fun, but there are things you can't do when your life is always in the spotlight," said Thomas Wallace. And it seemed like he was agreeing with the others.

"Aaron, you know that. I didn't expect this from you. Running off from what you built, and doing it barefoot in the rain? It's reckless, for our brand and your health. And Lively..." At the mention of my name, I flinched. Aaron must have noticed because he placed a hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I understand you don't know how this family works yet, but I expect you to learn in time, alright, dear?" the old man said with a kind tone. I nodded, keeping my eyes low, not ready to face the stares around the table.

"My apologies," Aaron simply said, his voice tight.

"Now, a plane model with the family name? I never saw that coming. You outdid everyone. It's a major achievement and a win for the entire Wallace family. I can't tell you how proud I am to witness this addition to our legacy," Thomas Wallace's tone swelled with praise.

"Thank you." Aaron's reply was clipped.

"I've heard you secured strong sponsorship for the prototype. Office work starts next month?"

"Yes."

"Good to hear. Good job, you too, Robert."

"Thanks, Father," Robert Wallace said, speaking for the first time since we sat down.

"Now that things are falling into place, what are the plans for the wedding?"

The question threw me. I finally looked up at Aaron's grandfather.

"We haven't started yet," I answered when Aaron stayed silent.

I glanced at him. He looked stiff, a bit frustrated.

"You need to. The key to emotional intimacy is spending time together. And time doesn't wait. As young people, you need to take the opportunity of time and enjoy all of it," Thomas said. "Besides, I've told you I'm eager for a new generation. I'm not getting any younger, and all I want before I die is to see your child, Aaron. That would make me the happiest man alive."

Knowing what I knew about Aaron, the words gutted me. Clearly, no one at the table knew. My chest ached. I heard him swallow, his breathing changing.

I took his hand on my thigh in both of mine, hoping he felt my support.

His grandfather went on. "Four generations. We could have an all-men portrait, right, Robert?"

Did he stop to think there was a chance the grandchild could be a girl?

"Yes, Dad."

Maybe this breakfast was a mistake.

"Speaking of that, Khalif Singh was at the exhibition yesterday. I heard he placed the highest bid on one of the sample aircraft," Aaron's mother said smoothly.

"Hmm," someone murmured from her end of the table.

"And he didn't come alone," she continued.

My eyes rolled inwardly. Here we go again.

"He had his son with him."

Okay, that was new.

"Yes, Damian Singh, isn't it? He's all grown up into a handsome young man. We talked at the ball. What an idealistic, charming man he is, with so much potential in his family's oil business."

Kathleen Wallace went on, and as the attention shifted away from us, I finally felt like I could breathe.

"If you ask me, I'd say he's a suitable match for our beautiful Emersyn. He has composure. Just like she was raised to."

What is it with this family and their obsession with marrying into power when they already have so much of it?

"Well, good to know Aunty Cynthia, but I'm not interested in moving to India," Emersyn said flatly.

"He's lived in London his whole life."

"I'm not moving to London either," she replied, completely unfazed.

"Emy, darling, this is an excellent opportunity," Aaron's mother pushed. "Not all of us are lucky enough to find such well-off families for partners."

"Cynthia, I don't think this is your concern," Emersyn's father cut in, standing up for her.

His wife added, "But darling, Cynthia has a point."

"You talk about minding business as if you weren't the one who designed a necklace fit for royalty that ended up on the neck of my son's fleeting gold digger," Aaron's mother said plainly, without shame.

My jaw dropped. I felt my soul leave my body.

"Aunty Cynthia—" Emersyn began, but Aaron cut in, his voice sharp. "Mom."

He slammed the table.

It was loud and unexpected. I flinched.

"Aaron, composure," his grandfather warned.

"We're leaving," Aaron muttered, grabbing my hand.

My grip on his loosened.

"You are not dismissed. I said Compose yourself," Thomas Wallace's voice was tight.

There were eyes on us from all sides of the diner, which Aaron had definitely drawn with his outburst.

"I'm not sitting here around a table full of people who don't respect my choices. This doesn't feel like family. Just tormentors and gossipers without empathy. I won't be part of this. We're going to Italy. I'm sorry, Grandpa, but I won't let Lively keep taking these cruel jabs just because my family thinks it's their job to organize my future. I'm no longer a child and I know what makes me happy."

Aaron spoke quietly, like he was trying to keep a lid on his rage. The whole table went silent. Even Thomas Wallace didn't respond.

With my hand in his, Aaron stood and helped me up.

"Wait for me. I'm coming too. I love you, Grandpa," Emersyn called, grabbing her purse and phone.

As we turned to leave, Emersyn's mother chimed in, "Hey, not so fast. Take Steven's things with you." She was waving at the stepdaughter.

Could these women be any more condescending to anyone they deemed beneath them? It was disgusting.

We didn't go back upstairs. Our bags had already been moved to the minivan, according to Keenan.

Aaron, still holding my hand, slid on his sunglasses as we stepped outside, bracing for the reporters.

And we were instantly bombarded. Flashes, shouts, questions. We hurried into the car with Emersyn and Steven Wallace's stepdaughter just before the door shut and the engine started.

On the middle console sat a small white gift bag. Aaron tilted his head for me to take it.

It was the first time I'd seen him smile since that breakfast we didn't even eat.

Curious, I opened the bag slowly.

The latest iPhone.

I looked at him, surprised.

"Your phone got ruined in the rain. You need to stay in touch with your family," he said.

I knew that. I just hadn't expected him to really be that thoughtful.

I wanted to hug him, maybe even kiss him, but we weren't alone. So I leaned in and whispered, "Thank you."

He smiled, put his sunglasses back on, and leaned into the seat as we drove until we were facing a helicopter. This one had actual pilots.

Aaron stayed quiet beside me. I wondered why.

My thoughts kept circling. Was he still thinking about not being able to have children? We wore headsets for the noise and spent four hours in the air. The entire time, my mind was spinning with concern about him.

Would our life be different if he knew Bubble was his? Should I tell him?

Does he deserve to know? Should I wait and see if he's worthy of Bubble? Does he even want me? Or is this all some kind of redemption story he's playing out?

Maybe he thinks coming back to the pregnant girl he left behind will bring him peace. Forgiveness. Some miracle that'll make him feel whole again.

I couldn't shake the weight of it. The doubt, fear, and ache. It was eating me alive. And Aaron's quiet torment didn't help.

We finally arrived over the bluest water I'd ever seen, surrounded by lush hills and distant homes.

As the helicopter descended, I searched for a landing spot. Then I saw it.

A superyacht.

It was unreal. My mouth dropped open as I turned to Aaron, wide-eyed.

He was already watching me, smiling.

"We're getting on that?" I asked, my heart racing with disbelief.

He smirked.

Grinning, I turned back to the window.

Steven Wallace's stepdaughter was stunned too, so I didn't feel alone.

I smiled at her, and she reciprocated.