LIVELY POV

After the sumptuous dinner that complemented the Victorian dining room, Aaron wished me goodnight, and a restful sleep for the big day ahead. Sadie, Mom, and Bubble stayed in my room while we chatted until Bubble fell asleep. Mom then carried him to the room they were sharing, leaving Sadie and me for more girl talk, lying on our backs and gazing at the ceiling.

My dresses for tomorrow had arrived, hanging on two golden racks that I discovered when Aaron and I returned from our house tour—a memory that still makes my cheeks flush red.

At midnight, when Sadie implied going to bed, I impulsively proposed that we both wear the dresses—no one would know. Though initially hesitant, Sadie eventually agreed. Changing and laughing and taking pictures until past one in the morning. By then, she really looked like she needed rest, especially after her first long plane journey today. She declined my hopeful offer to share my bed, saying she'd be a fool to miss the opportunity of a lifetime, that is, sleeping in the huge room given to her for our stay. I didn't have any choice left but to let the girl have her quiet sleep.

When Sadie left, I changed back into my cream silk two-piece nightwear and settled in, waiting for sleep. Although the curtains were drawn, the vastness of the land outside, its distant from civilization, and sparsely occupied rooms made me feel colder than I anticipated. Earlier, I had admired the magnificence of the place, but now with the lights off and deafening quiet, it felt lonely. I tossed and turned, checked my phone, and saw it was ten past two. I found myself scrolling through photos, including the only selfie I had with Aaron—one he had taken himself.

My mind was heavy with thoughts and the weight of what I knew I needed to do. In the next moment, I was on my feet, quietly slipping out of my room. Using my phone's flashlight to navigate the dark, quiet halls, I made my way to Aaron's side of the building. I had always wanted to visit him in the past few nights we were under the same roof, but the lake house lacked the privacy. Now, I stood knocking softly on his solid wooden door, hoping he would hear and wake up.

"Come in." His scarcely audible voice was clear from the other side; I caught it over my held breath because I was paying close attention. Slowing opening the door, I was surprised to find him not in bed.

"Liv!" He was looking over, his deep-set eyes sharp with inquisitiveness, gleamed by the warm lamp on the desk—the only source of light in the dim room. My heart jackhammered at how good he looked.

"You are working," I stupidly asked, obviously aware that's what he was doing. Why else would he be changed into a crisp white t-shirt and joggers, seated at the desk before a laptop at this time?

Shutting the laptop, he leaned back in his chair, his stare not leaving me.

"It could wait," he said in his mesmerizing husky voice. I fidgeted, feeling my bones practically crushing against each other as a chill stretched through them at the power his existence had over me.

"I couldn't sleep. My window looks out to the field; I can feel the openness even with the windows shut. But then I see your balcony too." The wide doors were open, and he didn't mind closing them. Night's fresh chills blew in, blending with the air conditioning that had no visible source, at least none that I was aware of.

"Come, sleep with me." He didn't say anything else, only motioned to the bed, his tracking eyes reminding me I had left my room without shoes, and now my mind was restless, wondering if he was disgusted.

He definitely was. To avoid something similar, the man had literally walked the streets of Paris barefoot to make sure my feet were secure, and now I was about to climb into his bed without shame.

Although it's partially amusing to have him on the hot seat, thinking about what to do with me, while I ponder myself.

My uneasy thoughts were answered when I went to bed and sat on it, but he remained calmly seated, his expression a bit shadowy under the light, assessing me, taking his time.

My palpitating heart rocketed to my throat while I was tense, staring fixedly at him, trying to process that just earlier he said I couldn't be tainted in any way for him. I wonder if that applies to this. "Won't you join me?"

"Sometimes I wonder how you do it."

"Do what?" I asked confusedly, watching as his long hair fell into his eyes. He had to shake his head to get it aside while my fingers cramped with the need to do it for him.

"Have the power to make me do anything for you. You're barefoot, and normally I would be frustrated, but all I can think of is what you'd look like naked, smeared in a mud bath."

"Because you have a dirty mind, clothed and masked in neat suits, Aaron," I teased him, finding relief in his words.

"I'm well-behaved. But not all heroes wear capes, baby," he arrogantly bragged, causing my eyes to almost roll to the back of my head.

"What's your heroic stunt then, tuxedo Superman?" I arched my brows playful.

"Refraining a hundred percent of the day from ripping your clothes off and idolizing that beautiful body of yours that I am not worthy to have all of it. You won't know, but among all the facades I have to put on, not being able to see you naked is the spaced-out self-control test I pass every day." His tone was the opposite of mine; it was getting more solemn as he continued. My gaze faltered to my shirt, and my frigid finger fiddled with the hem, having no reply for the stunning man who begged for my ugly body ignorantly.

"So you are basically a temptation resistance superhero." I sadly joked, and I heard him exhale a small smile. A beat passed between us before I appended, "If this persists, will you reach your snapping point with me? I know you've been patient, but how many layers of patience can a man have?" I thought out loud, meeting his harden eyes. He appears committed to my remark.

"For you, I will have all the patience," a muscle pulsating in his jaw as he paused. "This time, it is me who will bear it as you did for us back then. But Lively, you should know you're goddamn beautiful in every way. Nothing can change that—not age, not marriage, not multiple childbirths, or whatever you feel embarrassed of. I want you and your body, nothing in you or on you can change that either. Look at you. An art that should be worshipped."

"Be careful what you wish for, Aaron Wallace." I nervously laughed. If only he knew that I am not beautiful like Ruby or those fancy, giggling girls his father was playing golf with—girls who surely had perfect social manners and elegance from the finest teachers. All I have are stretch marks and a huge scar where it shouldn't be, as if I've escaped death.

"My wishes have proven successful lately. I wished to have you, and here you are, about to be mine. Why should I be scared to ask for more?" he says softly and my head lowers at his persistence, not giving in but wanting an end to the subject, so I resorted to quiet. "I am still waiting. Tell me, how do you make me become this person in anything involving you?"

Does it have an answer?

"I am just here, and that's all I know," I replied, physically and emotionally vulnerable, meeting his gaze. He was musing over something as he observes me.

"I am intrigued by how that's possible. No one has this kind of power over me. And why do I want you to have leverage over me? How is this normal?" He seems like a bewildered child with a dozen questions for his parents.

"It troubles you?"

"It is foreign, scary because of the power of change it brings, but I am telling you I don't want it to ever stop." He is passionate and ardent with his words, even when his face is hard to read.

"When you leave food to waste, there will come a time you will starve. That's how the world revolves. It doesn't matter the amount of money you have or the servants you employ; we get disciplined in ways we don't see coming because we can't control fate. Maybe that applies to how you toss me out of your life. What if now the universe is torturing you with the need for me, just as it did for me when I hated you like cancer and now I can't stop the thought of you in my head?" I let out, incapable of keeping it in.

"Then joke's on the universe if it thought you were my punishment. My only torture is waiting for your last name to be modified to Wallace," he volleys back with confidence and a drip of fury, rising to his feet. He exhaled, calming down visibly, almost immediately as he realized he was out of character, but his eyes still remained wild.

A smile tugs at my lips as I focus on him pulling his shirt over his head, the details of every muscle flexing in the procedure. Chills, surpassing the room's frigid temperature, wash through me. I retreat into the bed with each of his advancing steps, excitement replacing the organs in my stomach as his rich cologne fills the air around me, making my body ache to be closer to him. It was so unlike me, and his traitorous smile suggested he can see it.

"I know a technique that puts one to sleep very quickly," he murmured, lust swirled around the sound of his voice as he placed his first knee on the bed, climbing toward me. I lie back, anticipation for his touch mounting.

And he did. His hands grasp my waistband, pulling it down along with my panties. Impatience marks his actions, even though it's hard to gauge the shift in his demeanor with the light dim and nearly useless.

He settled on his stomach on the lower half of the bed, smooth and firm hands curling around my thighs, parting my legs for him. I assisted without protest, clutching the shirt at my hip bone, over my pounding heart. I promised myself, that no matter how intense the pleasure was, I would not let go of the material. His face lowered dangerously close, warm breath against my wetness almost driving me to madness. His dark eyes held mine just long enough for me to maintain my sanity, or at least what was left of it under his stare. But as I felt his tongue slide warm and soft over my folds, a teasing warning before he widened my legs further and pulled at the sensitive bud with his lips, my head fell back, eyes rolling as I saw floating fluffy clouds in a bright blue sky, like white cotton candy. Beautiful, almost within reach.

"Aaron!" I moaned.

***

The photoshoot wrapped up in the evening, with filming interspersed between picnic breaks. With less audience pressure compared to the lake house, I gained the courage I needed to pose confidently with Aaron. And the support from Sadie and Mom was the cherry on top, I enjoyed every moment of the day. Surprisingly, Kathleen Wallace also made occasional adjustments to my hair or necklace and smiled discreetly at Aaron and me as we followed the directors' guidance. It was the nicest I've ever seen her around me, it felt like acceptance—it was warm in the heart.

We changed outfits multiple times, each gown elegant in its own right. The scenes inside the house showcased the grand details of the Wallace family's estate, as depicted to their class when invites are sent out to people of their standards. Filming continued outdoors, highlighting the expansive driveway with vintage cars from the early 20th century and the beautifully decorated gardens with flowers, candles, and cake. We also featured pampered thoroughbred horses, and I had the opportunity to get on one, wearing a stunning, large green gown with a quite closed corset.

On a phone call, Emersyn had excitedly asked me to make a live video for her, and Sadie kindly handled that for a while.

Kathleen approached us while Mom and Bubble brought us some fruit through one of the breaks. She mentioned that Mister Wallace was determined to have the wedding before Aaron took over at the office next month and his upcoming 24th birthday. This is contingent upon our and my families' approval. Mom didn't seem to have any objections, but Aaron spoke on our behalf. Although I knew he wanted this more than anything, he suggested we would discuss it further. However, my priority of discussion was to address the situation with Bubble, so I told Aaron we should talk after the engagement ceremony when things are back to normal. He should know, as Mom mentioned, because only then will I find peace and clarity about whether he is genuinely committed or if he is running away again, or worse, hate me forever.

At past five o'clock, I asked Aaron if Keenan could take Sadie and me into town since our flight was tomorrow morning. I knew both Sadie and Mom would want the idea. It wouldn't be right to visit England and remain confined within the walls of one house, mostly for them. Mom had always wanted to leave the country and now she did. But as always, she sacrificed fun and opted to stay with Bubble, suggesting Sadie and I enjoy ourselves.
On our way, Sadie ended up stopping the car to get some miniature London Bridge souvenirs.

"I've got to buy uncrossable London bridges for Maya and her girls, so they won't be entirely sad," she said with a wince as she put them in her bag, and we couldn't hold back our laughter.

I had never had a friend like Sadie before. With my school experience going downhill and having to settle for option Z when I found out I was pregnant, I withdrew from the world, not that I had much of a life to withdraw from. I wasn't one of the popular girls or even the average ones at school; I was just a normal sideliner at the back, aiming to pass through high school without being noticed. So, I didn't made friends. But then I found Sadie at 21. She was like a sister to me, full of energy, compassion, and love—everything I had never dreamed of having from someone my age. I loved her in return a thousandfold.

Sadie bought a few things for herself and her family. I didn't buy anything because I was on a tight budget. Just because Aaron will cover Bubble's surgery bills doesn't mean I should overspend, especially when his illness is one that draws off money constantly, and even if not, I have other places to put savings into, like getting the family a new car or two, some unpaid bills from the pile on our table, and the overdue debts on our heads. But what was truly astonishing was returning to Wallace's country house and seeing the trunk of a car behind ours open, filled with shopping bags that had made their way to my room. Sadie and I stopped to open them, with my mom carrying my son following suit, and inside were all the things I had stopped to look at during our girls' outing.

"What the fu—fruit?" Sadie dumbfoundedly corrected her exclamation, catching Mom's scolding stare and remembering the child in our presence. I'd smile if I wasn't already smiling at the thought of Aaron.

"What is all this?" Mom asked us then, looking equally confused at the high-end brands' shopping bags, hat boxes stacked all over the huge bed, and a teddy bear dressed in a navy blue uniform.

"Literally everything I looked at," I mumbled, and Mom's eyes narrowed, growing even more puzzled.
All I know is Aaron Wallace is a very crazy man.