Page 122 of The Princess and the Fraud

I thought again about Annalise’s offer, but for some reason, I didn’t want to tell him. “Without the house to worry about, the world is my oyster, I guess.” I gave my arms a little flap, my jacket making a loudsquishsound. “I have money saved up, so I have some time to figure it out.”

Aaron bobbed his head a little, toeing his shoe into one of the broken floorboards of the porch. I wondered if, like me, he also felt the shift in the air. If he could sense the emptiness. Things between us had been a lot of things—enraging, infuriating, complicated, happy—but it’d never been awkward like this.

“Thank you for honoring my mother,” I said, facing him one last time. The rain seemed to be letting up, but it still rattled on the roof of the porch, the perfect soundtrack for a goodbye. “And for encouraging me to jump. I know you don’t think you did anything special, but you did.” I paused. “Did you know that you were the first person I’d told about the cello since my mother died?”

He let out a breath. “Really?”

“I never even told Grant that I used to play. But I told you on instinct. And, sure, you can say I might’ve said it to any stranger who showed up at that fire pit, but not just anyone would’ve known what a spiccato was.” I looked down at my mud-splattered shoes, chuckling once. “Not just anyone would’ve spoken to me in the language I knew.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed in the red string of fate, that things were predestined to play out a certain way, or whatever it was that Paige talked about. Coincidence or fate, Aaron was exactly who I’d needed, back in June, and every step along the way since. I’d needed someone to draw out the fire in me, to challenge me again and again, to remind me that I spoke the language of music. I’d needed someone to make me feel seen, to remind me that I was not merely a shadow in the lives of others. To show me that I was allowed to go after what I dreamed of.

There was no other person that checked those boxes but Aaron Astor. Aaron, who infuriated me and lit my spark. Aaron, who laid my hands over top of his own and forced me to feel the music again. Aaron, who held my gaze and never wavered.

Aaron, who captured my heart.

“Thank you for being that person for me,” I told him, impressed by how even my voice sounded. I swallowed hard now, offering him one last shaking smile. “The person who showed me it’s okay to chase my own dream. I’ll appreciate it forever.”

And that was it. I’d run out of words, and there was nothing else to say. As the unspoken goodbye lingered in the air, the familiar strains of Elégie whispered through my mind, just as they had the first time we’d kissed. Back then, the melody had wrapped around us like a promise—soft, aching, and impossibly sweet. Now, the piece was mournful, a reminder of how something beautiful could also be seen in a completely different light, depending on the listener.

I was still me, and Aaron was still him, but instead of the start of something beautiful, it was the end.

I turned around then, ducking my head. Just before I was about to step off the porch, Aaron’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, halting me.

I almost didn’t want to turn around. I was afraid to.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “You… don’t hate me?”

The quiet worry in his voice reflected in his expression. After everything—even after what I just said—he thought I could’ve hated him? “Would you have hated me if I asked you to buy me the house?”

Aaron mutely shook his head, eyes shining.

That was the world Aaron lived in, though. When someone didn’t perform the way they were expected to, they were cast out. When someone made a mistake, there was no room for forgiveness. In his world, disappointment was crushing, and even the people he loved could turn on him without mercy. That was what he expected of me now.

“I like you.” The rain had let up enough that my sudden confession seemed soloud. “I wish I could put into words what it is about you that I like so much. I’d say that I like the way you make me feel, but it’s not just that. Iwantfor you. I want you to live a beautiful life you love, and I want to live it with you.” Later, I’d be embarrassed by how transparent I was being, but I knew I needed to be honest with him. “And with how life-changing you were for me, I wish… I wish I could’ve been that person for you.”

Aaron still didn’t release my wrist, staring at the connection as if he was afraid I’d pull away. I knew I needed to, before I said anything else, but my heart softened at the sight of his glassy gaze, wrenched apart.

His grip tightened. “You know how when you flip a coin and call heads or tails, and it feels like you’re truly fifty-fifty on either option—but when it lands, you’re disappointed it wasn’t the other?” His voice was small as he spoke to my hand. “That’s how it was, choosing Caroline.”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, torn between being faintly amused and insulted. “So you’re saying, before, you could’ve gone either way?”

Aaron closed his eyes briefly before locking onto mine. “I’m saying that I’ve spent my whole life making choices my family wanted me to make, even if I was disappointed. Choices that would make me an impressive son, a successful brother. Even if it meant sacrificing what I wanted, I was able to live with that disappointment. Even if their approval of me meant disappointment in myself, I lived with it. I thought I could live with this one.”

He slid his hand down from my wrist to grip my fingers, the pressure firm, sure. Even in the spring rain, they were warm, coaxing mine back to life.

“Youarethat life-changing person for me, Lovisa. You’re the first person who’s shown me I’m allowed to go after what I want, too. That I’m allowed towant. You made me realize I’d rather disappoint them than wake up every morning disappointed in myself. Because if getting their approval means I lose you in the process, I don’t want it.”

A part of me was convinced I’d misheard him, misunderstood their meaning. Surely he wasn’t saying what it sounded like. I almost was afraid to trust his words, my heart terrified of letting its guard down. But it was like he knew he needed to burrow deeper, to thaw anything else that was still frozen.

“I think about how much I hurt you, and I hate myself for it,” Aaron almost whispered, taking a step closer. “And I’m sorry for what I said about you chasing other people’s dreams. It crushed me to think that you’d finally allowed yourself to choose your own dreams, only to be caught in mine. And Caroline—” His expression softened, his fingers brushing mine as something like pain flitted across his gaze. “She told me that you’d offer to marry me. But not because you wanted to. Because you felt sorry for me.”

I’d suspected something like that, honestly, but hearing the confirmation lit into me. “That little?—”

“But it wasn’t pity,” Aaron went on. “That’s not why you said it. Right?”

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

“And you didn’t say it because you felt pressured to, right?” he continued, his voice rough but sure. “You said it because… you actually cared about me.”

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