Aria's POV
My thoughts were a complete mess as I sat on the bed. First, I'd had another woman between Aiden and me, and now that we'd just confessed our feelings for each other, suddenly this "dream girl" appears out of nowhere? Talk about history repeating itself.
Once bitten, twice shy. I felt myself slipping back into that painful, insecure place I'd been before.
But I wasn't the same naive, brave girl anymore. If Aiden truly had feelings for this dream girl, I'd divorce him immediately and let them be together.
After all, our marriage wasn't exactly conventional from the start.
Yeah, divorce. That's the solution. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself I was fine with this possibility.
The bathroom door suddenly swung open, and Aiden walked out, freshly showered. My heart clenched with both heartache and guilt. I instinctively turned away, then immediately regretted it.
Aiden was too perceptive. Turning away would only make my feelings obvious.
I hesitated before forcing myself to turn back, only to meet his cool, penetrating gaze.
My fingers clutched at the bedsheets as I tried to sound casual. "Done with your shower?"
Aiden studied my flickering eyes for a long moment. He lowered his gaze, sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't lie down. Instead, he watched me intently. "Something bothering you, Aria?"
My heart trembled under that searching look that seemed to see right through me. I tried to hold it together, but after a few moments, I couldn't sustain it anymore. My eyes dropped to the deep purple comforter. "A little bit."
Actually, way more than a little bit.
I pressed my lips together, feeling that wave of discomfort rising again, like a dam about to burst.
"Trouble at work?" he asked.
I shook my head and glanced up at him. "Maybe it's just PMS."
I didn't want Aiden to know how upset I was. If what Eleanor said about this dream girl was true, showing my vulnerability would just make me look pathetic.
Aiden watched me without speaking. The room fell into silence. Just as I was about to say something to break the tension, a shadow fell over me.
Aiden leaned toward me, his body blocking the light. I instinctively looked up.
"Would a hug make you feel better?" he asked, his eyes fixed on mine.
His question caught me off guard. My eyes immediately welled up.
"Yes," I whispered.
Whatever this dream girl situation was, right now I just needed to be held.
I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Aiden slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him.
"That unhappy?" he murmured, his forehead nearly touching mine.
The scent of his shower gel mingled with my own—the same fragrance—until I couldn't tell which was his and which was mine.
I looked up at him briefly. "Just... not feeling great."
I couldn't lie convincingly. Afraid he'd read the truth in my eyes, I lowered my gaze after just a couple of seconds.
My arms tightened around his neck unconsciously as I bit my lip, feeling utterly useless.
I was legally Mrs. Carter, for God's sake. Why couldn't I just ask him one simple question?
"Did Eleanor contact you?"
I froze at his sudden question. How did he know? I hadn't said anything!
I panicked and instinctively gripped something for comfort—forgetting my hands were around his neck. My right hand accidentally tugged at his damp hair.
Aiden, not getting an answer, correctly guessed he'd hit the mark.
His dark eyes deepened as his hand at my waist shifted, creating a bit more distance between us. "What did she say?"
He tilted my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze.
I automatically looked away, focusing on his collar instead. "She didn't reach out to me."
I took a breath and forced myself to meet his eyes. "Really."
She'd just sent a text, that's all.
Aiden stared at me without speaking.
Neither of us said anything, creating a strange atmosphere in the room.
This didn't last long. After a few seconds, Aiden broke the silence: "Since Mrs. Carter doesn't want to talk about it, I won't push. But whether Eleanor contacted you or not, I want to restate that I don't have a habit of settling."
"So, whatever Mrs. Carter is worried about, it doesn't exist."
At first, I didn't fully understand what he meant. I just wanted this uncomfortable interrogation to end.
"I know," I said.

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