Page 6 of Lust & Lies
“Thank you, Noelle,” he muttered, voice low, deep.
Thank me? Why?I frowned, head tilting to the side as I studied him.
“What are you thanking me for?” I asked. “I haven’t done anything for you.”
“For surviving,” he whispered.
Those two words nearly shattered me. Tears sprang to my eyes. A tight ache bloomed in my chest, sudden and unexpected. For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
“Thank you for surviving and not leaving me here alone,” he whispered, growing a bit choked up on that last part.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as he kissed my forehead, then pulled away from me. Blinking rapidly, he closed the door and walked around the front of the vehicle, heading to the driver's side.
My gaze followed him, noting how he used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes before climbing into the car. I looked out the window once he was seated, not wanting to be caught staring.
Those tears in his eyes, had they been real or fake? I didn’t know. But he was right about one thing. I was a survivor. And I’d keep surviving, no matter what. I clung to that truth like it was the only solid thing I had. The car ride home was silent.
Seated in the passenger seat, hands curled into my lap, my mind teetered between exhaustion and unease. I was really going home with Aiden. My husband. This felt unreal. Like a dream I couldn’t wake up from.
I gazed at him from the corner of my eye, trying not to be obvious. I was still trying to understand this man who claimed to be my husband. I’d hoped he’d turn the radio on, thinking his musical taste would give me some insight into him.
Nope. The radio remained off. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between us. His sleeves were rolled up, his forearms exposed, his shirt neatly pressed. Everything about him was put together. Neat. Controlled. Mr. Perfection.
Unlike me.I felt like a fractured version of a person, like something had been stripped from me, leaving only the barestoutline of who I was supposed to be. And even that outline was drawn crooked.
I exhaled and returned my gaze to the window, watching as the city blurred past. These streets and landmarks didn’t spark any recognition within me. They were more like set pieces on a stage I was being forced to perform on.
Only, I’d forgotten my lines, and the script I was given was in a language I didn’t understand. Perhaps I was on the wrong set. But there was no one here to point me in the right direction.
We drove for a long time. So long that I dozed off for a moment, lulled to sleep by the silence. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the change of scenery. We were no longer in the city.
The buildings and restaurants had been replaced with endless green foliage, tall trees, and the hush of Aiden’s tires against the pavement. I turned my head slightly, my gaze drifting to Aiden.
He looked calm. Focused. His left hand remained on the wheel, the other still resting on the console between us like he hadn’t moved at all since we left. My gaze dropped to the car’s clock.
Damn!I’d been asleep for an hour. It hadn’t felt like I’d been out for that long. Wait. That meant we’d been driving for over an hour! My eyes jerked to Aiden.
“Is this the way home?” I asked, curious, nervous.
He didn’t look at me. Just nodded once, eyes still on the road.
“This is the way tooneof our homes,” he told me. “One of the newer ones.”
That answer did nothing for my nerves. How many homes did we have?
He finally glanced my way. “I’m taking you to our country estate,” he continued, his tone light. “Away from the noise ofthe city. Somewhere peaceful where you can rest without being disturbed.”
I didn’t say anything. But I was spiraling on the inside. A country estate? Far from the city. Far from people. No traffic. No neighbors. Just the two of us. Alone. Together. I turned back toward the window. The trees were thicker now, clustered on both sides of the road like a wall closing in on me.
Though my heart was racing, I kept my breathing calm, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how much I was freaking out. A moment passed before he spoke again, his voice softer now, lower.
“It’ll just be me and you out here, baby,” he told me.
I looked his way to find him smiling at me. A full, warm smile like he’d just promised me the world, a single dimple appearing in his left cheek. I didn’t smile back. I didn’t feel like he was giving me the world.
This didn’t feel like protection. It felt like isolation. It was more like he wasseparatingme from the world. This felt intentional. His words settled over me, sending a sliver of cold dread down my spine.
It’ll just be me and you out here, baby.
