Cree

---

It was amazing what a shower could do.

After I’d assured Dallas I was okay, she’d left. I’d spent a few minutes picking up my house, but then I’d showered and combed my hair and felt almost like myself again. Or at least as much like myself as I could feel with a fractured heart.

By evening, I’d had a light dinner and had decided to head to bed. My problems could wait until tomorrow.

After talking to Dallas, I realized I might not have as many as I’d thought. Yes, things with Aaron were ruined, but I also had an opportunity, one that I knew I would never have been brave enough to seize without him.

For so long I had sought validation, looked outside of myself for approval, but those days were over. I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone. Now I was free from ever having to do that. I had a chance to do exactly what I’d always wanted. And as soon as I figured out what that was, I would.

At a knock on the door, I smiled and walked toward it and pulled it open without looking.

“Dallas, I told you I would be all—”

I cut off abruptly when I looked up and saw Aaron standing there.

For a moment I wondered if maybe I dreamed him up, but I blinked, and he was still there.

He was dressed as casually as I had ever seen him in what looked to be sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“We’re dressing down today, your highness,” I said.

It was a stupid thing to say, but it was the first thing that had come to my mind, so I had run with it.

“I don’t need to be dressed up for what I have to say,” he responded.

Despite myself I was warmed, seeing that little glimpse of him, the Aaron who always gave as good as he got.

“And what do you need to say?” I asked.

I shouldn’t have asked anything. I should have just closed the door in his face.

But I might wish otherwise, try to pretend, seeing Aaron made me feel as complete as I had in days, and I wasn’t ready for that feeling to be over.

“I’ll tell you inside,” he said.

He walked toward me and I stepped aside. I wanted to make some joke, tease him for again entering without being asked, but I couldn’t allow myself to say the words. Those memories were bittersweet, and I suspected that I would need to save my energy and emotions for the conversation to come.

Thing was, I had no clue what the conversation would be.

I had suspicions.

Aaron coming to officially tell me things were over. Not like that would be news to me. But as much as I liked to give him crap for being a playboy, I knew that he was polite and wouldn’t just leave things between us hanging. Now, he’d be formal, make sure there was absolutely no confusion, probably make sure there were no hurt feelings.

I respected that, even though my heart twisted as I considered what would happen after.

I closed and locked the door, and then walked past him.

“I’d prefer not to have this conversation here,” I said.

The foyer was a place full of so many memories, some good, some bad, all of them making it impossible for me to stay there.

It probably would have been a good idea for me to just stay put and not pollute the rest of my house with bad memories of Aaron and instead try to hold onto the good, like the time he’d made me pancakes, or the Sunday we’d spent cuddled in bed watching reruns of cop shows.

But I didn’t and began padding through the foyer. Aaron followed me into the living room. I sat in my usual spot on the left-hand side of the couch and rather than taking a seat beside me, Aaron squatted down, bringing us face-to-face.

“The last conversation we had wasn’t very pleasant,” he said.

I laughed, the sound strained but genuine. “Aaron, I’ve never known you to be a fan of understatement,” I said.

“You can think of a better description?” he asked.

“It was fucked. That’s a better description,” I said.

I felt some measure of embarrassment about my behavior, knew that I had been overreacting, blaming him for things that weren’t necessarily his fault, but at the time I had been too taken by my emotions to stop myself. Despite that, I didn’t have the right to take it out on him, and I was woman enough to acknowledge that.

I looked at him, breathed out deep.

“I was out of line,” I said.

“You don’t need to—”

I shook my head and he went quiet.

“I do. What happened is my responsibility, just like my feelings are my responsibility. I take ownership of that, and the way I reacted to you was totally out of line. I apologize for that,” I said.

I waited for him to contradict me, but he simply nodded.

I realized then that I’d mentioned my feelings and waited, tense, for Aaron to seize on that point. But he didn’t.

“I need to apologize too,” he said.

“For what? You didn’t pick the family you were born into or how people react to that family. You have nothing to apologize for.”

On some level, I had known that all along, but in the sea of emotions, I’d lost sight of that truth, or more accurately, had preferred to ignore it.

But I wouldn’t do that now, would try not to do it ever again.

Aaron nodded. “No I didn’t, but I control myself, and what I did during the presentation was unacceptable.”

“You didn’t do anything,” I said. I went quiet, and shrugged. “I mean, you literally didn’t do anything. You could have been a potted plant with a title, and they would have given you the partnership. You know that, and I do too.”

He laughed. “I guess it’s good that you think I’m more than a potted plant, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed, and stood, raking his hand through his dark hair.

It was a rare moment of uncertainty from Aaron, and I watched him, wondering at the source of angst.

“I thought I had everything figured out. I wanted…”

He trailed off, then turned to stand in front of me and kneeled again.

This time he reached for my hand, and at the first touch of his fingers against mine, I felt something inside me shift.

I felt like I had been without air, missing Aaron, and as he closed his fingers around mine, I knew I could breathe.

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

I frowned, not understanding what he meant.

“Aaron, I’m confused,” I said.

“And that’s my fault. Instead of just speaking, saying things plainly, I let you twist, waiting for the chance to make some grand gesture.”

I raised the hand that Aaron wasn’t holding and he paused.

“Slow down. Explain.”

“I love you,” he said.

I froze, first not certain that I had heard him right.

I stared at him, my mouth dropped open as I peered into his eyes.

“I’m sorry?” I said.

Aaron lifted one corner of his mouth, the cocky grin that I had alternately hated and loved back.

“That wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear after my very first declaration of love,” he said.

“I asked you to slow down. In my world that doesn’t constitute slowing down.”

“Well let me start at the beginning. I love you,” he said.

Hearing the words again made my heart soar, but I tried to keep myself grounded.

“Okay,” I said, using the sentence to regather myself and listen.

“But instead of just telling you that, trusting my feelings, trusting you, I thought I needed to do more. I couldn’t just put myself out there and trust that you’d be there.”

I blinked, my heart starting to race. I’d dreamed of hearing these words so often, but I couldn’t believe them.

“Okay…” I said.

I knew I sounded like an idiot, but Aaron didn’t seem to notice or mind.

“So I decided to show you, and I thought that maybe if I stepped aside, allowed you to shine in the way that I know you can and do, that would prove how much I cared about you. Not the competition, not even my honor, but you.”

I blinked, studying him. “So you did that, you didn’t say anything, for me?” I asked tentatively.

He nodded. “Yeah. What did you think that was about?” he asked.

The question was clearly just curious, but it implicated me nonetheless.

I’d considered Aaron might be doing this for my benefit, but had dismissed the thought. And had instead allowed others, darker thoughts, to take root. I met Aaron’s eyes, the greenish brown patient, loving, something I could finally see.

“I thought you were just toying with me. That being quiet was your way of showing me that no matter what you would come out on top,” I whispered.

I had lowered my head, the shame of what I had thought of Aaron making it impossible for me to look at him.

“Isn’t that screwed up?” I asked a moment later.

Aaron didn’t respond, but he cupped my cheek with his hand, stroked his thumb against my skin.

“I guess I can’t blame you. I haven’t given you much opportunity to think the best of me,” he said quietly.

At his words I whipped my head up and met his eyes.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron, in these last weeks I’ve seen so much that I never expected, gotten to know you, and I know that you are one of the best men I’ve ever met. And I know that I love you,” I said.

By the time I finished my heart was galloping, and as I looked at Aaron, I watched as he processed my words.

“You do?” he asked.

I smiled, lifted one corner of my mouth. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“I-I just hoped that maybe you’d give us a chance. A real chance. That maybe over time…”

“Time is unnecessary. You have my heart, Aaron Sarda. Forever.”

“Just as you have mine,” he whispered.

Then he leaned forward, kissed me so hard, so deeply, that I couldn’t mistake the embrace, couldn’t take it for anything other than what it was, which was a true expression of deep, profound love.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, your highness,” I whispered against his lips.

---