AARON WALLACE POV

"I will continue to care for my daughter and her son, just as I've always taken joy in doing. They don't need you. You all Wallaces are nothing but egomaniacal, always stepping on others to stay afloat. So spare us the performance of returning at your convenience."

With my gaze dropped to the ground, unfocused, Anthony's scathing words struck me, lodging themselves in my chest as I stood frozen, stripped of all power and pride.

"You've brought nothing but heartbreak to my family. If I'd known you were the seed of my daughter's pain, I wouldn't have opened my door to you, not even for a second. That mistake will haunt me for the rest of my life. It's one thing to reject a pregnancy, and it's another to demand for abortion. You had no obligation to remain in my daughter's life, but you also had no right to dictate what happens to her body. What kind of evilness drives someone to coerce a terrified fifteen-year-old girl into an abortion, without her consent, without adult guidance, all so you could escape without strings attached?" He said with unmistakable repulsion.

But for a man who had just uncovered the worst of my sins, he was unnervingly composed, physically. He only used words perfectly to crush me.

"What if she'd gone through with it? What if she'd been hurt? Unlike you, I love my child. The day I learned I was going to have Livy was the happiest day of my life, and every day since, I've celebrated her. So don't give me that tired excuse about your age. I've seen younger people handle things with more grace. Your actions weren't about youth. They reflected who you are, a pure Wallace, through and through. And the saddest part? We believed you were different. You sat at our table and fed us a carefully curated lie."

It wasn't until the tears touched my cheeks that I realized it and I wiped at them. My head remained low from painful shame, feeling an unrelenting ache wading into a rugged vortex, erupting deadly in my chest.

Anthony turned and walked away, leaving me destroyed to try to argue with the truth. The sound of the door closing cut through the quiet night while hell rumbled beneath my feet.

Lightheaded, I made my way down the steps, but my knees gave out under the force of everything, and next second, I sat down by the steps to catch my breath.

I tugged at my hair, slammed my knuckles against my temples, and pressed my fist to my chest, desperate to dull the internal ache, but according to time, nothing could fence over the mistakes that had been made. No executed actions can ever be reversed. This is the precise explanation of the outgrowths of our deeds, be they good or bad. With time, everything will develop into what we sowed and for me, this was it.

Estimating time wasn't relevant in my heap of problems, so the night went on slipping like the breeze that rustled. I sat there outside Liv's house, tormented by scenarios of how this day could've occurred differently if I had opened my door to her and really talked six years ago.

By default, I should expect this by-product after the way I ruined the night of the state championship match for us, which was her first time. That alone was going to come back to bite me in the ass, even if the grand idiocy I added on top didn't happen that summer.

I hate myself for the kind of way I lived, the substances I took that drove me to dissociation, even when I truly liked her. I didn't scour every resource I had as a teenager to search for her for nothing. She might never know this, but her name was etched all over my notebooks, scrawled in messy handwriting whenever I zoned out in class.

And after I saw her again, and pushed her away to escape the imperfection of letting my family down, I spent countless nights fighting punching bags, hoping to beat the regret out of me.

It's terrifying how a single mistake can alter the course of your entire life. For me, the moment happened at the lake house six years ago.

The creak of the door occurred unexpectedly behind me. Hours must have passed since I'd collapsed here.

I braced myself, expecting Anthony ready to drag me off his property.

Summoning what little strength I had to tell him I'd leave. But before I could push up, I felt someone quietly lowering down beside me on the steps.

Tilting my head, I glanced over. Though the faint trace of her perfume and the toe cap of her shoes had already given her away, it was Liv.

She cocooned in her robe just an inch away, arms wrapped tightly around herself until her fingers slid through her disheveled hair, brushing it away from her face. I wanted to close the distance, to comfort her, but the words knotted in my throat, refusing to come.

"They're asleep, but you need to leave before sunrise," she murmured, her voice raspy. The sting of her dismissal cracked something deeper inside me.

I swallowed thickly and cast my gaze downward, words failing me.

"Are you planning to sue for custody?" Her fearful question cut through the silence, as her eyes bore into my side.

"If I do, I'll hurt you. And I don't want that. If I don't... I'll remain the man who never stepped up for his child. I... I don't know what to do." The confession spilled from me, unguarded, as I turned to her, and my heart fractured further when she brushed a tear away and turned her gaze toward the quiet street.

"Your father asked me something... whether I deserved Bubble," I let out the question that had been gnawing at my thoughts.

Liv's throat worked, her lips pressing into a thin line as if holding back a response. But at last, she asked, "Do you think you do?"

It was my turn to hesitate. Silence stretched between us as I wrestled with the truth I'd been avoiding.

"No," I conceded. Not because I wouldn't give my life to him at this point, but because forcing my presence into his life isn't justice for him or for her. The choice should be Liv's.

Her hands moved instinctively and rubbed up and down her arms in a self-soothing gesture. "When my mother found out I was pregnant, it sent her into early labor. She lost the twins, my siblings. We've never been the same since." Her voice quivered, but she pressed on. "That aside, I never intended to force you into anything when I chose to keep the pregnancy."

"Why did you?" My voice softened, but the question cut deep. What if she hadn't? What if she'd listened to me? This goes to show that, even villains are granted undeserved mercy.

"Even in the early weeks, I couldn't bring myself to consider abortion," she softly admitted, her voice colored with vulnerability from the memories. "Massively because I was scared of the process, so the thought of it wasn't an option for me. Not that I was ready to be a teen mom, either. But over time, I grew attached to the tiny kicks. I'd talk to my stomach, as it was the only thing in the world that mattered." Her lips curled into a wistful smile. And remorse enfolded me, hearing her talk about what I did miss, how beautiful it was, but I will never know.

"That day when you sent me away, I made a promise to the baby in my stomach. I swore I'd be his everything, that he'd never know what it feels like to be unloved... But my love wasn't enough to protect him," she whispered, her voice breaking. "He came into this world and fell sick. I always wonder... was it because, at some point, he wasn't celebrated enough by the people who should have cherished him?" Dragging a shaky breath, she continued. "I repented, Aaron. I took back all the fear I'd carried when I first found out I was pregnant. But Bubble's illness stayed. It has to be my punishment." Her voice cracked with regret. "We sold everything my grandmother left for me to pay for his treatments, plunging into debt every day. But still, I couldn't protect him."

I brushed at the wet corner of my eye, the severity of her pain coursing through me. "Why didn't you tell me all of this sooner?"

Her gaze finally met mine when she turned, a subtle marvel gleaming in her eyes. "You didn't seem curious enough to ask."

"I did ask—"

"Only once. And recently. While drunk." A faint, sad smile curved her lips, silencing my argument before it could start.

She was right. I barely grazed the surface when Kyle drove us here, and I never brought it up, even when I had the chance all summer. But I was embarrassed. I didn't know where to start.

Now, I needed to speak up and not let words in my chest stay buried for another six more years. "I fell in love with you," I confessed, and her sad smile faltered, freezing her complete expression.

I extended my hand toward her, and her wide, tear-filled eyes flickered between my outstretched palm and my face. For a moment, I thought her feelings for me had faded until her hand slipped into mine, healing a part of my despair.

"I've known that since I made the trip here this year when it wasn't in my schedule." My voice was barely above a whisper. "When you said your name in the simulation room... you had no idea how deeply engraved it was in my mind. I knew it was you. My heart raced like it had never had before. And when I kissed you the next day, it was like every part of me fell into place. It confirmed I'd follow you anywhere. These past months with you, I've learned that when you're not here, my world feels off its axis. I am consumed by your thoughts. And when I see you, nothing else matters. You've always had that power over me."

Her head bowed as she silently processed.

"I've dreamed of a home where Bubble calls me Mom, and you, Dad," her voice broke, tears streaming freely now. She pulled her hand away, wiping at her face, and left it buried in her palms. "I was going to tell you after the engagement ceremony, then my suspicion about why I had always stalled was confirmed when things went the way they did. I had been scared he wouldn't be accepted by your family. Scared of what you'd think of him. Because this time, it's not like when he was unborn. He's here and old enough to understand rejection. I only ever wanted to protect him." She cried.

My chest tightened as her words settled in, and I understood her more than she believed I did.

"I was angry at you," I admitted with a small, broken laugh, sniffling as I wiped my face.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice soft and exhausted.

"I know." Compared to my towering flaws, I couldn't be angry at her. She had no fault in this. It was me who ruined everything we could've been. "Can I ask for one thing?"

She nodded, her face still buried in her hands.

"Accept my offer for Bubble's treatment." Pausing, I swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'll stay away if that's what you really want. I won't fight you for custody, either. But let him have better chances of access to the resources he needs. I can't lose him, and I know you feel the same way, too."

She sucked in a sharp breath, her throat tightening visibly before she whispered like it was the toughest decision she ever had. "Okay."

Finally, I stood. There was nothing left to say. I didn't want to walk away from the family I no longer belonged to, but the first rays of dawn were creeping over the horizon. I'd already stirred enough chaos in their lives. The last thing they needed was for anyone to wake up and find me here.

With a heavy heart, I descended the final few steps, which were pulling me further away from a life that could never truly be mine.

"Aaron?" she called softly, her voice catching in the stillness as she remained seated.

I immediately halted, turning to face her.

She had her head down, watching her nervous hands fidgeting with each other. "Nothing about this summer was out of revenge... everything was genuine." Her gaze lifted, revealing swollen, tear-brimmed eyes that shimmered in the dim light. "I tried. I took risks and gave my all... it just wasn't enough."

Because of me... my family. I know.

I nodded, clenching my fists at my sides, a futile attempt to ground myself.

She managed a faint smile, her eyes holding mine as she swept back a stray strand of hair. She was, without question, the most breathtaking girl I'd ever seen. Turning away from her felt unbearable, like an anchor pulling at my chest, impossible to escape. Hell, I don't want to.

"One last favor?" I asked, and she did that thing with her lips, pressing them together tightly, as if barely able to speak. She rose to her feet, stepping down to the second step like she wanted to close the gap between us, but her arms crossed gently over her chest. She nodded, curiosity in her stare.

"If the day ever comes, when you wake up and find it in your heart to forgive me, and you can see me as worthy of you both... come home to San Francisco... I'll be waiting." I swallowed roughly down.

She forced a fragile smile that betrayed the heartbreak etched across her face. Without another word, she turned away when I couldn't do from her, and headed for her front door.

I stood there, watching her hesitate before she reached for the knob. She looked back one last time, and in that fleeting moment, I felt the distance starting to count.

How long would it take for her to forgive me? Will it ever happen? The stakes of my gamble were impossibly high. I hated this bargain. But for once in my life, I only had one option, and it was only that, and it was filled with uncertainty.

Her pain was valid, every ounce of it. If it took her a lifetime to heal, then so be it. I'd wait for however long it took for her, and for Bubble. Even if her forgiveness found me only at my grave, I'd wait for their visit. She could tell Bubble about me then.