LIVELY POV

Blushing, he took my hand and guided me toward the staircase. We ascended, passing the earlier seating area, which was now empty. The boys had left for something else.

When we stepped through the wide doors, the space was quiet. We walked by a large living area, a kitchen, and then a small hall with one door. Aaron opened the single door to a room that was almost illegally spacious for a yacht and ushered me in. Everything was luxurious and shiny; the windows were large, the TV too, and the bed was queen-sized. There was so much space to wander around that I couldn't resist the urge to take off my shoes and feel the fully carpeted floor underneath my feet. I kicked my shoes aside and heaved a carefree relieved sigh at the comfort I found. Aaron smiled at me.

There was an open door showing a splendid bathroom with the same warm lighting as the entire room, brightening the whole place.

The view prompted a question from me. "Best serene place you've ever been?" I asked Aaron at the top of my voice while I went into the bathroom to refresh.

"Victoria, Canada," he answered from the room.

"Why?"

"Their culture and the beauty of the place. You have to see it to understand," he explained. I might have heard indistinct chatter from the bedroom over the running faucet as I discreetly peed.

I cleaned my hands, double-checked my appearance in the mirror, and emerged to find the two-seater table prepared with well-displayed food. I became even more hyper-aware of the starvation sensation in my stomach. But when my eyes journeyed over to Aaron to tell him I was ready, my stomach dropped at the sight of him taking off his shirt.

This is the view of what I will be having all through the weekend. I wouldn't mind staying longer.

"Favorite food?" I quickly tossed the question, feigning nonchalance, and situated myself in one of the seats, pouring myself some orange juice and gulping down half the cup to water my dried throat.

Aaron's narrowed eyes observed me while I hid behind the cup.

"You didn't answer," I mumbled, looking everywhere but below his neck.

"I think avocado toast," he drawled, lowering himself opposite me on the chair and nodding. "Should I assume yours is orange juice?" he sarcastically pointed out while inattentively spreading butter over his toast.

"It is." It is not.

"Really?" His brows lifted, and he held out the toast to me.

Oh, so it was mine.

I took it and mumbled a small thank you, stuffing my mouth with it from a huge bite and wandering my gaze around to avoid mistakenly exploring the work of art that was his beautiful body, which felt forbidden to stare at, because the thought of it alone, had me squeezing my legs this whole time.

"Liv, baby, what are you doing?" I heard him ask entertainingly, and my eyes snapped to him. I was ambushed by that intense stare, delving into my soul, mesmerizing and inviting. The flecks of amber and gold in his hazel eyes blended under the sun's rays streaming through the windows, radiating a seductive glint that was both captivating and hypnotic. Overwhelmed, I broke out coughing, nearly choking on my breath. "Are you okay?" He concernedly inquired.

"Hmm?" I played dumb.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" he amusedly crossed his arms, sitting back in the seat and scrutinizing me.

"What? You?" I laughed nervously like it was absurd. It transitioned into more sputtering coughs due to the dryness in my throat. I needed more of that orange juice. I poured another full cup and devoured it in a long swig, having Aaron wait awkwardly, or rather, wittingly.

He was now chewing back a laugh, monitoring me calmly. Luckily, he didn't say much after that, so I was able to eat without having food go down the wrong passage while swallowing. He barely ate anything. When I raised the question, reminding him we both hadn't had breakfast, he grabbed an egg and started peeling the shell. It was the only thing he had, along with a glass of water. It was mysterious.

After dining, we sat there, Aaron answering the trivial questions I had been curious about. Over time, I loosened up and gradually adjusted to brief glances at his chiseled chest and the hardened constriction of his abs, but never to the fluttering sensation in my stomach caused by the frequent warmth in my cheeks when we made eye contact or when he caught me checking him out. Gladly, he didn't make me feel I was doing something wrong.

"Aaron, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He sighed, listening attentively.

"When you said you can't have a child... you were mostly bothered about me." I started, and he nodded with a hardened stare.

"What about you? Would you want a child?" I asked him curiously.

He thoughtfully paused. I almost assumed he zoned out, but he didn't. His brows slightly rose in acknowledgment. "I guess I do. It's not a good feeling knowing I will never have one."

My head was a whirlwind of thoughts, but I knew this might be the right time to tell him about Bubble.

He got up, towering over me while I struggled to keep the tears in the back of my eyes.

"I need some fresh air. If you want, I can take you on a tour," he offered.

"I think I'll stay here for a while." I smiled faintly at him, and he leaned down, kissed my hair, slipped back into his shirt, and left, closing the door behind him.

The silence was strikingly loud in my ears then. Everything stopped for a moment.

Chewing my lips, I grabbed the new phone and set up my WhatsApp to call Mom. Then I noticed Dad had gotten it too. I checked the time; it was past six in the morning there. Mom and Bubble might still be sleeping, so I dialed Dad instead to avoid waking them up.

It rang, but he didn't pick up. I tried an actual call, but the network was poor, so I couldn't get through to him. I went back to WhatsApp and typed a message:
"Hey Dad, I was wondering, do you believe people can change? Can someone who hurts you switch to really caring for you? Can we love those we hate? Can the gap missing in us ever be refilled again?"

Of course, I didn't tap send. I held down delete until almost the entire text was wiped, leaving only the unsuspicious part: "Hey Dad, I was wondering, do you believe people can change?"

It showed one tick, indicating it was sent but not delivered. Perhaps when he wakes up, he will connect to the Wifi. His alarm is usually at eight and sometimes nine because he works the night shifts and needs the rest.

Sinking back into the seat, I swiped through the new phone with nothing in it. I scrolled through the photos, and there were three pictures there. I tapped on the last one.

My heart suddenly felt heavy and flaming. I shouldn't be emotional because it was happiness I felt, but tears shimmered in my eyes. It was a photo of Aaron Wallace looking at me, holding me—the boy I had only ever romantically loved, his influence over me so powerful that he was the only one able to make me hate other men after loving him.

For a while, I watched the picture he snapped us with pure admiration of me in his pose. Thinking back to the memories from the days I would stalk him on school computers for new pictures of him. I knew I loved him intensely, and when I hated him, I knew I hated him intensely. When I found him again, I now knew I couldn't lose him again.

He needs to know about Bubble for us to have a chance at being a family—something that sounds funny and even impossible if I weren't staring at the ring he gave me.

I got up to go find him. I wasn't going to wear those shoes despite their heels not being that punishing, so I went through my things. But there wasn't only one box there for me, the box I carried from Lake Oswego now only carried shoes—a lot that I didn't use to have, all in my sizes.

This was Aaron and Keenan's doing. I wasn't even mad. I needed something fitting for my endurance, so I grabbed the sneakers and stepped into them. They were Wallace's, more comfortable than any shoe I had ever worn.

Leaving the room, I walked down the living area with no one there and came across one of the crew members near the pool.

"Hi," I smiled politely at the woman. "Have you seen Aaron?" I asked, and she nodded.

"He is at the beach club," she pointed down the staircases, saving me the embarrassment of asking where the beach club was.

Appreciatively, I thanked her and followed the staircase to the deck I had been on with Isla. It led to another deck furnished with daybeds, a fireplace, and a kitchen, in front of wide doors leading to cabins, I supposed. I was sure it wasn't the beach club since there was no one there, and I could finally hear distant chatter and music from below. I guessed everyone was there. The double stairs here were disconnected from the other staircase, so I had to stroll down the space to one of the stairs that led to the lowest level of the yacht, the beach deck. There was a physical view of the waterline with various water toys tossed in the water and two tenders parked out there. As I carefully descended the steps, the view kept revealing itself. The seating areas, loungers, and sunbeds were occupied by foreign faces in bikinis and shorts. Then I laid eyes on Mason Wallace. He was fixated on a phone call, and as I looked around the small crowd, I caught sight of Emersyn through the open doors, somewhere like a spa area, with massage beds, having a tense conversation with Meadow and Mallory Wallace, who were wearing kimonos over bikinis and sunglasses. I heard a familiar voice behind me. I turned and spotted Keenan; he had come too.

We locked eyes, his complexion appearing pallid, perhaps from the lengthy journey. As I moved towards him to inquire about Aaron's whereabouts, I noticed Aaron near the bar, his hair tousled impeccably.

A grin stretched across my face, as though he sensed my approach; he leaned back slightly, catching sight of me. His white dress shirt was fully unbuttoned, he looked so desirable. Grinning widely, I hastened towards him, until I spotted her.

My legs came to a halt, firming rigid in their tracks.

Why was she here? Did he invite her?

Ruby! His long-time girlfriend/ex who, mere weeks ago, was affectionately stroking his hair and giving me orders.

Aaron closed his eyes, rubbing them and his forehead wearily.

The situation worsened further by the minute; she was outfitted in a bikini, something I could never pull off, her body was flawless that I could never deliver, exuding sophistication, a trait I do not have. She noticed me, her deep red lipstick lips curling challengingly, and she ran her manicured nails through his hair as though it were routine. It was my breaking point. I could never compete with her. She embodied everything a girl could dream of, while I, impaired, with a prominent scar on my body, couldn't even bear to undress in front of Aaron.

What had I been thinking? Of course, he would prefer her company, who wouldn't?

Have you ever felt the crushing realization that you'll never be enough, because you're simply out of place, and the best course is to remove yourself from the equation? It weighed on me like a noose around my neck, yet there was nowhere to flee in my circumstances. If only I could swim ashore, but my options were scant, as my impoverished upbringing never afforded me swimming lessons. Now, I suffocated in my own personal hell, haunted by memories of the night of the state championship. He used me, then returned to the arms of girls within his social circle.

Was history repeating itself? Once more, in the presence of numerous witnesses, had he chosen to shatter me?

A tremor coursed through me, the ground beneath me crumbling away. Intense anxiety seized control of my body.

Ruby smirked, silently reminding me how foolish I was to believe I belonged here. I felt a shrinking sensation in my core as if everyone were laughing at me. It was demeaning, crushing, and self-esteem impairing. It lanced a wound through my soul.

"Fuck this," I muttered, tears streaming involuntarily down my cheeks.

Shot!

Swiftly, I wiped my face with the back of my hand, the world around me spinning, dizziness overwhelming me. I turned on my heels, racing up the stairs so I could hide.

"No! Liv?" Aaron's voice called out, footsteps trailing behind me. I quickened my pace up the stairs, my throat constricting, tears flowing uncontrollably down my face.

"Oh, damn it. Are you satisfied now?" Emersyn's voice rang out.

"Lively, please, stop."

But I couldn't stop. He couldn't see me like this. A weight pressed heavily on my chest. I can't breathe.