AARON WALLACE POV

"Picture this—how remarkable would it be to collaborate by showcasing your jewelry on my models? And Dane could even display some of his artwork before the show begins."

"No." Both boys instantly shot down Kyle's suggestion, not even waiting for him to finish. They were sipping drinks and playing chess, a game I was distantly disengaged from as we all sat in a boat in the lakehouse.

"Why are you all ready to throw me under the bus like this?" Kyle disappointedly asked.

"I prefer my jewelry to stay exclusive to my clientele," Mason retorted.

"I call that a load of crap. You two are just afraid to push the boundaries."

Only half-listening to their banter, I scrolled through my phone, anxiously awaiting Keenan's update on Liv's whereabouts. Just then, Dane muttered, "Here comes trouble." I glanced up and caught him and Mason both eyeing something—or someone—behind me.

The distinct click of high heels echoed closer. I followed their gaze to see Mom striding toward us, flanked by Ruby, like Ruby was the poster child she'd envisioned for a Wallace handbag ad.

She couldn't even wait a moment.

"What is this, Mom?"

In a defensive tone, she responded, "I have nothing to do with this. Just being courteous to our guests."

I turned my irritated gaze to the oblivious imposter, Ruby, who was draped in and carrying rival brands. She pouted, shifting awkwardly on her heels. "You haven't answered my calls, so I came to check on you."

I stood abruptly and stepped out of the vintage wooden boat recently moored at the lake's dock. "Take the hint, Ruby."

On instinct, she grabbed my arm as I brushed past them. "I'm worried about you," she said, her voice now desperate.

Exasperated, I took a deep breath to regain my composure and pushed her away, my voice taut with frustration. "Don't be." At that moment, my phone chimed, grabbing my attention with a flicker of hope. I glanced down to see a text from Keenan:

'Miss Kelby's left and is on her way to the hospital.'

This was the most uplifting news I had received in a long time.

"It must be devastating to realize you were nearly duped by those conniving families. They tricked you into the notion of marriage—something you never wanted—just to clear their debts," Ruby spat as I read the text, her words igniting my anger further.

I seized her arm, pulling her in so only she could hear. "Don't ever let me hear you mention Lively again."

"Aaron, let go of her," Mom said sharply, her voice edged with concern as she pulled my hand away from Ruby's arm.

"If you don't leave this house, I'll make sure you're escorted out," I threatened the now pale-faced girl, whose smug expression had faded. She recoiled and huddled next to my mother. "You'd better hope you're not implicated in this. When I find out who's behind it, they'll answer for it."

Fury swirled in red and black, coloring my vision and clouding my pupils as I descended the steps to leave the lake house.

Just the other day, Beaumont had been on the brink of confessing his accomplice when Dad intervened, preventing me from becoming a murderer. Even now, despite a few discussions with him, my suspicion lingers about why he had to appear instantaneously. Though he had assured me that neither he nor my mother had any involvement, chalking it all up to Beaumont's usual brutality toward his unpaid debtors. Beaumont has since been severely dealt with, and he is now beyond my reach. I wonder what they did to him.

As I stepped outside, Keenan was already waiting, holding the rear door open. I slid on my sunglasses, shielding myself from the blistering heat, which was exponentially worse than in previous days.

It's been several days since the engagement ceremony. Liv has barely left her home since Bubble's discharge, and when she did, her outings were so fleeting that I couldn't catch up from the lake house. She had only visited the pharmacy and, on one occasion, a supermarket.

"To the hospital, sir?" Keenan asked, meeting my gaze through the rearview mirror.

If Liv is dodging me, perhaps I need to approach this differently. With Mary and Anthony returning to work yesterday, I know Sadie or Kane must be home with Bubble while Liv runs her errands.

"No, Bubble," I replied.

***

When we arrived, my suspicions were confirmed: Keenan's men verified that Sadie had been left in charge of Bubble. Tucking my sunglasses into my jacket, I stepped out and ascended the stairs as Keenan rapped on the door.

A moment later, it swung open, revealing Sadie froze in the doorway, her initial shock quickly melting into a guilty frown.

"Aaron, what are you doing here?"

I began to reply, but before I could, the little boy's voice echoed from inside, "Mini—goes? Andy, let em in."

"Aaron, Liv is going to be furious," Sadie muttered, struggling to keep her voice low.

"Good. I'm not leaving without an explanation for why I deserve this kind of anger. And you heard the kid—let me in."

With an exasperated sigh, she opened the door wider enough for me to walk in. Noticing the living room was empty, I headed straight to the bedroom, the door already ajar.

"Mini-goes, ish at you?" he called out again, his small head tilting as he tried to peer through the narrow opening.

Our eyes locked, and his grin stretched wider.

I walked in, finding him seated on his small bed. "It is me."

"Here, sir," Keenan said, standing beside a visibly anxious Sadie, still torn by the guilt of betraying her friend.

I accepted the gift bag of coloring books and crayons from Keenan—the ones we had picked up at a store on the way.

"You bot me som-thing?" Bubble perked up with excitement, his eyes tracking my every move. My attention, however, was drawn to the fresh central venous catheter embedded in his chest. So many wires surrounded him—far too many for someone so young. I spotted one dry tube for oxygen and another with fluids coursing through it, the tubing connected to an IV stand beside his bed.

"Mini-goes?" His voice snapped me out of my daze. Likely pale, I nodded at the boy, whose worried eyes were fixed on me, and handed over the gift bag.

His frown instantly vanished as he eagerly dug into the bag. I sank onto the opposite bed, which belonged to Liv.

"Do you need anything? Water?" Sadie asked.

"No, thank you, Sadie," I replied with a faint smile. She returned it with a small one of her own.

"Co-lor books. I wan those," he exclaimed exuberantly.

"Bubble?" Sadie reprimanded gently. He cast a glance at her, a silent exchange of understanding passed between them, before turning back to me.

"Ten-k you."

I responded with a playful wink, which brightened his expression as he shifted his attention back to the crayons.

"I'll be in the living room if you need anything," Sadie mentioned, and I gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

The door remained slightly ajar after she left, and my gaze drifted around the now-quiet room, landing on the posters decorating the walls.

"Come he-lp me," he called, pulling my attention back to him.

I repositioned myself beside him, and he handed me the books.

"What should we do?" I inquired.

"Cho-se pur me. That's haw Livy does it."

Alright.

I selected one of the books and flipped through the pages until I found a dinosaur illustration.

"How about this one?"

He inched closer, his small hand tapping my arm for balance as he leaned in, seeking a better view of the book, his cropped hair just inches from my face.

I loathed what I was about to do, but I needed the assurance it would bring. With a sigh of resignation, I discreetly withdrew a pair of small nail scissors from my pocket. Bubble, blissfully unaware, didn't notice as I carefully snipped a minuscule lock of his hair, ensuring it was undetectable. I smoothed his hair back into place and offered him the crayons.

"Greyin," he said, pointing at the green crayon. I smiled, though the expression quickly faded when my gaze landed on a familiar baseball cap resting on the nightstand beside the other bed—my baseball cap, the one I had placed on Liv's head when she was still a stranger.

"Mini—goes, lo—ok?"

"Wh—what?" My voice cracked, for my throat was suddenly dry.

"Lo—ok wah I did."

Everything that followed felt like a surreal haze as it still process within me 'she really kept the hat'. I nodded, offering a hollow acknowledgment, until that unmistakable voice broke through the fog once more: "Aaron." The tone was soft, yet it carried a weight that seemed to freeze the air around me.

I looked up in its direction. Liv stood there, her figure framed by casual jeans and a loose top, her hair neatly tucked behind her ears, hands planted firmly on her hips. She jerked her head toward the door, wordlessly instructing me to follow.

She was furious as Sadie predicted.

"We ahh co—lor—ing," Bubble excitedly displayed his progress to both of us. I must have spaced out for a while because the dinosaur was nearly complete.

"You've done brilliantly." She rushed over, swiftly collecting the remaining books and coloring supplies from the bed. "Aaron and I need to talk for a moment," she informed him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Buh I'm al—most pinished. Mini—goes has to cho—se a—noda for me," he protested, making Liv's demeanor shifted to one of subtle defensiveness.

"Sadie will come and help you with that," she offered, still avoiding eye contact with me. Her breath quickened, her neck taut with tension.

"No, I wan Mini—goes," the little guy whined, drawing a smile from me.

"Bubble," Liv said, her voice firm, frustration creeping in.

I stood up, gave him a playful wink, and promised I'd return to help him choose a page to color. That was enough to bring his smile back, and he resumed his coloring. Liv, visibly uneasy, held the door open, her gaze darting to the hall.

Honestly, I'm perplexed. I get that I caused harm, and I understand her family suffered in my home, but I can't grasp why she's avoiding me. We can talk about this through.

Before leaving, I hesitated for a moment and discreetly took the hat. She didn't notice, and I followed her as she led me away.

"Sadie, could you stay with Bubble, please?" she gently requested once we were in the living room. Sadie, offering an apologetic smile to her friend, obliged without hesitation. The door clicked shut a few seconds later, and the atmosphere grew heavy with silence. The girl who had brought me here no longer carried the same boldness she'd shown earlier.

"Why are you avoiding me?" I asked, breaking the tension. She gave a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile.

"You should leave, Aaron," she murmured.

"Why did you cancel Bubble's treatment transfer?" My voice rose slightly, and I immediately regretted it, mindful of the child in the next room.

She remained silent.

I craved the same determination she had shown when making decisions about me in the past few days.

"I'm not shutting off the process, the treatment transfer will go on," I declared, which finally provoked a response—her anger flared.

"You will."

"I won't."

"You will," she affirmed resolutely, her eyes widening, chest rising and falling in rapid, furious breaths. "I just returned from making the payment for the surgery. It's scheduled for next week. I appreciate your offer, but we don't need it anymore."

Suddenly?

"Transplant and then what when it damages again? How long?"

"Don't say that. He will be cancer-free," she weakly mumbled.

"We both know there is a lifespan for that transplant. That boy has a stronger chance with the specialists we brought in. Bubble could finally get the treatment you've always dreamed of. He could be cured. Why are we even having this argument?"

"HE'S NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY, AARON. YOU HAVE NO SAY HERE SO STOP. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WANT!" she screamed, the intensity shattering the air, freezing me in place.

Her body quivered with barely contained rage, but her eyes betrayed her crumbling resolve.

After a painful pause, I collected my thoughts, each one hitting like a sledgehammer. I blinked, frowning. "What is this? Why are you waging a war that doesn't exist?"

She clasped her hands behind her back, eyes downcast. "I don't want you here, Aaron. You need to leave."

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not. I need you to stop. Stop bringing gifts for my brother, stop installing pools in my backyard, and stop coming to me. I don't want you here—ever again," she recited, like lines rehearsed and perfected in her mind.

It seemed like she was convincing herself, nodding slightly as if for affirmation, her gaze fixed on the ground between us.

"I find it hard to believe when you've clung to this for six years." I extended the cap toward her. Her gaze tracked it, and her face paled as she realized I had caught her in her lies.

"Aar—" she began, but her words faltered as I surged forward. She instinctively recoiled, ending up pressing herself against the wall.

There was nowhere left to retreat, no escape. My proximity demanded that she face me. "When I arrived here today, I was battling the fear of what I now represent to you. Then I saw that hat on your nightstand, and it dawned on me—someone who genuinely cared wouldn't relinquish what we have so easily." I couldn't bring myself to believe anything she might say now.

A tremulous breath slipped through her parted lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"You don't mean what you're saying, Liv," I asserted, my voice unwavering, for the signs are there, it's not even hidden.

Her eyes reopened, glistening with unshed tears.

"You've hurt us enough. For six years, I've carried the heartbreak you caused. I can't endure another one from you," she swallowed, her voice laced with finality.

I knew I had wronged her before, but we had spoken of our future. I wasn't capable of hurting her again, even if I tried.

"What are you talking about?" I extend my hand toward the open space beside us. "I'm asking you to take my hand."

"No," she murmured, shaking her head more to herself than to me. "I can't, Aaron. It is enough. This illusion I've wanted so badly to be true, I need to let it go. I'm putting an end to it."

"Why are you so determined to dismantle us? What you want isn't an illusion. I'm real. I'm standing right here, and so are you. All I want is to be with you—that's my undeniable truth."

"You and I are the illusion, Aaron." She shoved me back, widening the distance between us, and devastated, she cried even more. "Look around—does any of this feel right? Aaron Wallace, you standing in this house, my home, is fundamentally wrong."

What? "What are you talking about?" My patience is wearing dangerously thin.

"I will never be fit for you!" she nearly shouted, her fist pressed against her chest. "And you know it. That's why you pushed me away the first time. I don't belong next to someone like you."

We're really going down this path again.

Exhausted, I defended, "That's not true. I told you, I've been searching for you."

"Then you sent me away when I went to you," she retorted, her voice laden with exhaustion.

I had no response left. I'm no longer the person I was in high school; we've matured, changed, and now live with our regrets. I made a mistake—one I'm determined to spend my life correcting, even if it means dispelling her fears day by day.

She took my silence as a benefit, she pressed on. "Your family wanted perfection, and I'm not the ideal candidate they had in mind."

"No—" I began, but she interrupted, her voice trembling, raw with emotion. "They despise me," she said, leaving me frozen with guilt because I knew she spoke the truth. "They hate me so much that your parents hired Beaumont to disgrace my family before our debt's due date. Now it's been published and displayed wherever we go. We've become the subject of gossip. Our neighbors mock us, saying the Kelby's daughter is a gold digger, worthy only of being a mistress to your kind."

Bitterness dispersed down my throat.

"Liv, that's not true," I said, reaching out for her, but she shrank away, making my chest tighten painfully as my eyes began to sting.

"You can't begin to imagine how exhausting it is living with the narrative that I'm a slut," she sobbed, her gaze piercing mine. "I've endured this stigma at home since I was 15, but my parents could only shield me from so much. Now, to be labeled that way by everyone outside my home—you have no idea what that does to a person's psyche."

"But it's all lies. I suggest our marriage will prove everyone wrong. So tell me what I need to do to make this right, and I will. Beaumont has already been handled. My father—he took care of it. If he had some role in that chaos, do you really think he would go so far as to seek vengeance on you?" As twisted as it sounds, it feels plausible.

She exhales.

"This is it, Aaron. Do you hear yourself? You'll always prioritize your family over me. Can't you see he's guiltily shielding his wife? I get it—they're your parents, and that's why this hurts. I'm stuck in the middle. But I heard your mother, Aaron. She and your aunties conspired to orchestrate life-threatening schemes against my family. I will not let your family hurt mine because of you and me. Your mother even went so far as to have my dad jailed while I was away with you, all because of a fabricated report about our small business that he had no clue was being set up."

No way. The news made me falter, a half-smile pulling at my lips as I stumbled slightly. "They wouldn't dare. They couldn't. I had men out there—" They were supposed to protect her family.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she watched me absorb every detail. "You don't understand the gravity of this, Aaron. The lengths your family would go to protect you from any threat, even if it's just a harmless girl who's adored you since she was 15."

No!

So they played me? Mom, Dad, all of them—they had their agenda. They didn't care the public event went down in flames. This wasn't just about image anymore, not when it encompassed the entire Wallace dynasty. It was much deeper than that. It was about the race between houses—my parents, uncles, and aunt, all pitted against each other, while I played the pawn in my parents' calculated game, groomed and expected to maintain the perfect pace. Of course, my marriage with Lively was seen as a setback compared to the other three houses, which will leverage alliances by merging Wallace's influence with another great power. After all, strategically, Kyle, Mason, Dane, the twins, and Emersyn were to be paired with aristocrats for partners.

"My mother lied. They all fucking lied," I muttered under my breath, thinking out.

"Aaron, I can't. This is getting out of hand." The girl in front of me, her face tear-streaked, shook her head, pleading for understanding. I wanted so badly to give her that, but what she was asking for came at an extreme cost. And for someone who's had everything his whole life, it was the one thing I couldn't afford.

I moved swiftly toward her, reaching out with urgency until she was once again trapped by my embrace, my desperation unmistakable. I could see her pain, but selfish me only hoped she could look beyond it. "Don't let my parents behavior dictate our future, they will only win when you punish me for their actions. I am not them. Don't leave me. If you do, you'll only be consigning me to the plans they've mapped out for my life. I don't want that future. I want a life with you—a meaningful existence where each morning I wake up knowing I've chosen my own path, not one imposed upon me."

She exhaled softly, her hand covering mine as it rested on her waist. She caressed my arm gently. I didn't want her touch to be merely comforting; I wanted it to signify acceptance.

"But our families are a big part of who we are. God knows mine is, I can't lose them because I choose myself. And it's not like I was told, no, I've witnessed the importance of family to the Wallaces. You can't face their wrath."

"I no longer care," I responded with conviction. "I have a plan."

"No, Aaron."

"I promise. I will stand by us, come what may. If you'll follow me, I'll take you straight to the lake house, and I'll declare that I am nothing without you. You shone the lights that brighten everywhere I go. I need you," I need her more intensely than I've ever needed anything. The fear of losing her is like a lethal illness perishing every cell in me. I can hardly breathe.

"But I do care, Aaron. I care if the mother of the man I marry despises me. I care if they harm my parents who had been nothing but generous to me my whole life. I care if I become an outsider in the family I'm about to join. I care that I don't measure up in your world, that I'm viewed as a vile, inferior girl who somehow bewitched Aaron Wallace." She sobbed, running her hand up her face and into her tangled hair.

As I silently observed the shattered woman before me, it was clear how the event had taken a toll on her; the dark circles under her eyes bore witness to her anguish.

"Just a few weeks, and after the marriage, you won't have to see them again. I'll get you a house in a state where no one will find you. We will have holidays away from my family; you will have your peace, Liv. I promise you this. I will be nothing but your sanctuary."

"Can't you see it will only exacerbate our situation?" she argued, tugging at her hair forcefully. I grasped her wrists to stop her from hurting herself, and she didn't resist. Instead, she tiredly buried her face in my chest and let out a soft sob. "You will become the Wallace who abandoned his family, and I will be blamed for it once more. My family will pay for it, and that is what I fear the most."

"Then tell me what to do. But ending things with you is not in my options. I will not." My head shook, plunging liquid from my eyes down my cheeks.

At my weakness, she pulled away, escaping the corner where I had her trapped. Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as if to ward off the cold. I longed to envelop her, but she clearly desired distance. "Aaron, I've made up my mind. It's over. Summer has come to an end; you will leave soon. It will be as it always has been. You should forget—you've done that for six years."

Is she serious?

"You think it's that simple when everything has changed." I took a deliberate step forward, and she instinctively recoiled, guilt flashing across her face as she realized I had noticed. I hesitated for a moment, summoning the courage to continue. "You've reshaped me into a man with feelings, Lively. Now I feel things so profoundly." I wiped the moisture from my eyes and offered a sincere smile, hoping she would see the truth in my words. "I express gratitude, politeness, and remorse to those around me—even to those who serve me, I say thank you to them. I've now acknowledged how tirelessly Keenan works and his steadfast presence in my parents absence. I swear I've changed, I appreciate the small things around me and it so relaxing, like the refreshing taste of cold water after my morning run. I feel so intensely." I repeated pleadingly.

This time when I drew closer to her again, she didn't withdraw; instead, tears welled in her eyes as she grappled with her inner conflict and the credits I was giving her. I took her hand, and she allowed it, gasping softly. "I've become so attached to you that I can't focus for even a moment without thinking about you—wondering if you're asleep, working, with Bubble, or if you're thinking of me too. And it's the healthiest I've ever felt. I know you now, it is nothing like when I was seventeen."

She slowly freed her hand, letting it fall to her side.

This was my first time feeling hopeless.

"God, please don't tell me this is some form of retribution for what I did to you back then because I've already brought myself to your feet," I whispered, fear coiling within me, a lump the size of a fist lodged in my throat.

"Maybe it is," she murmured softly, her words piercing through me.

"I refuse to believe you." Tears streamed down my face in force they never did, burning my cheeks.

Her gaze dropped. "You have to go."

"How can I persuade you?"

She averted her eyes. Who breaks up with someone without the courage to face them directly?

"The paths are closed off, Aaron."

Slumped, I trudged to the door, yearning for her to call out, to stop me, to embrace me and reveal it was all a test, just a cruel joke. But that never happened. I opened the door, yet she remained silent. I closed it, and it stayed shut.

"Sir?"

Locking eyes with Keenan, I wiped my face, but the tears only streamed more freely. Ignoring him, I hurried down the steps and into the car, seeking a moment of solitude.

Fuck this.

The driver's door opened and closed. "Can you turn on the air conditioner?" I rushed out, clearing my throat and undoing a few buttons.

"Aaron, are you okay?" Keenan concernedly asked. I felt his soft stare from the rearview mirror.

"My parents—they took... they took everything from me." I struggled to breathe, gasping for air like a child stifling sobs. My defenses crumbled, and the walls lay in ruins. "Lively hates me now."

"Sir, that's not true. If everything else in the world is a lie, one thing I know for certain is how deeply Miss Kelby cares for you."

But I just heard her say she hates me because my presence around her put her family at risk. I retrieved a napkin from my jacket and dabbed at my eyes.

"Let's go home."

His concerned gaze met mine in the rearview mirror and he nodded.

I am tired.