Page 127 of Killing Me Softly

Nothing would ever undo what had been done. No justice could rewrite the past or erase the damage. But it mattered. Pryce wouldn’t walk away untouched. She wouldn’t be free to twist another mind, ruin another life.

And if there was one truth Aaron could take from it all, it was this—he finally understood his mother.

Not in the way he used to search for. Not through her stories or apologies or the questions he had begged her to answer. But through the lens of her illness. Her fractured reality. Her psychosis hadn’t been a puzzle to solve, or a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was a storm she lived in. One that swallowed her whole long before he knew how to name it.

And because of that, she was never going to give him what he needed.

And that, finally, was enough.

Mel walked out of court free, too.

There were no apologies, no remorse, no quiet gratitude for getting off on self-defence. Because she knew what she had done. And she didn’t regret it. The only thing she’d said when it was finally over was to Aaron, “You owe me a bottle of wine, sweets.”

Aaron laughed for the first time in months.

There had also been two funerals to attend in that time.

Aaron and Mel had both gone to Taylor’s. They’d taken the train to Preston, where his body had been returned to his family after the investigation and the ceremony held in a small, quiet church. One of those places that smelled of old wood and dust, where grief clung to the walls. Aaron had stayed at the back. He hadn’t been able to do anything else. Taylor’s mother had seen him. Of course she had. She’d only met him the once. That year he’d been with Taylor over Christmas. And her eyes lingered on him, recognition filtering through the haze of sorrow. But Aaron couldn’tmove.Couldn’tbreathe. Guilt wrapped itself around his ribs like barbed wire, constricting tighter with every passingmoment. He should’ve said something. Offered something.But what could he possibly say to a grieving mother who’d lost her son to the same chaos that always seemed to follow him? Especially as both Max and George were there, too. Offering their sympathies. Grieving. Sending Aaron glances of contempt.

So Mel did his dirty work for him.

For the both of them.

She stepped forward in his place, voice steady, condolences soft, but they still felt wholly inadequate. Because nothing—nothing—could be enough. Not for this. No matter how much Aaron told himself it wasn’t his fault, no matter how many times Kenny whispered it in his ear at night, Aaron still wasn’t sure he believed it.

There was also Kenny’s mother’s funeral. A quiet affair. Simple. Small. A farewell fading into the background of a life that had already ended long before her body followed. There had been no grand send-off, no dramatic mourning. Just a moment of quiet, a handful of condolences, and the inevitable finality of burial. Where they laid her to rest beside her husband and the daughter who’d been taken from her far too young.

Aaron stood beside Kenny the entire time, their hands clasped between them, fingers tangled like an unspoken vow. No words, no promises—justthere.A silent anchor. A steady presence in the grief wrapping around them both like a heavy fog. And when Kenny stepped forward, scattering flowers over the three graves, Aaron felt the tremor in his grip, the way his breath caught as he lingered longer at Jessica’s. Aaron said nothing. Didn’t move. Just watched. Watched as Kenny’s composure, so carefully held,fractured. Watched as his shoulders curled inward, as a silent tear traced its way down his cheek, falling onto the earth below.

And Aaron’s heart—God, his heart—it shattered for him.

And swelled for him.

For the love Kenny had lost. The love he still carried.

Aaron would spend a lifetime making sure heneverhad to bury someone he loved again.

Then, Aaron graduated.

Kenny had expected him to quit.Everyonehad.

People expected him to leave. Defer. Vanish into a new life. A new city. Somewhere the ghosts didn’t whisper his name through the walls. Where his past wasn’t stitched into every glance, every hushed conversation.

Another offer came. A fresh identity. A clean slate. Another chance to be someone else.

But he was done changing himself.

He’d grown too used to beingAaron. Especially when Kenny said his name, rolling it over his tongue like a sip of top-shelf whisky. Slow, reverent, savouring the burn. When hemoanedit. Breathless, wrecked, dragging each syllable through gritted teeth while at the edge of ecstasy. It wasn’t just a name anymore.

It was who he was. ToKenny.

No, he wasn’t giving that up. Not now. Not ever.

Plus, he had a penchant for proving people wrong.

SoAaron Jonesstayed at Ryston to complete his degree.

He pushed through, refusing to let the scrutiny crush him. He sat through lectures where his presence felt like a silent dare, ignored the stares, the judgment, the curiosity disguised as concern. His grades were picked apart more than anyone else’s,watched, as if waiting for him to trip up. Fail. Prove them all right.

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