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Immediately, horror settles deep into the pit of my stomach, and I’m instantly nauseous.He’s talking about our arrangement.
The whole reason for my doing this is to save my mother. The benefit I get is helping my mom; instead, I end up falling for him and crushing my own heart in the process.
Why is he discussing this on TV? Especially without my knowledge or consent. What the hell is he doing?
Aiden continues, speaking to the news anchor. “We agreed to get married because we both needed something out of it, and it was nothing more than that. We were legally married, but it was a sham from the beginning.”
Hot tears are flowing down my cheeks now.Nothing more than that? Aiden feels nothing for me. He’s admitting it’s all an act for the arrangement.
My heart can’t take this; it feels like it may break into a million pieces. Yet, I can’t seem to turn it off.
How can I feel so genuinely about someone and not have them feel the same? I’m so naive for thinking the connection between us meant anything. I can’t tell if I feel more hurt or embarrassed at this point, but I know it’s a mix of everything in between.
I hear the reporter ask a question I don’t want to hear. I feel as if I’m in a different world, time standing still.
“Were there any feelings involved? Or was everything strictly professional?” he asks.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t bear to hear the answer. I switch the TV off, staring at the blank screen. I’m unsure at this point how to describe the pain I feel.
A part of me wants to know what he would have said. A bigger part of me knows the answer will crush me. I can’t hear it come out of his lips. It feels like I’m just reliving a loop of this same terrible disaster, over and over again, watching my heart break a little more each time.
Will this ever not be the main focus of my day? Will he ever not be all I think about? Am I going to be buried under this awful mistake for the rest of my life?
My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I rush towards the bathroom, not wanting my mom to see or hear my heartbreak. I quickly shut the door behind me and lock it. I look at myself in the mirror and notice that even my appearance seems broken. I start the shower, and hot water quickly flows out of the shower head.
I undress and clamber into the warm embrace of the water. Steam flows up around me, almost like the tight warm hug I desperately need. I allow the hot water to pour down my head as I start to cry openly.
No feelings, just a contract. If only he knew my true feelings….
I sit down on the floor of the shower. The cold tile on my bare butt causes a shockwave to course through my body. The hot water showers on me like the summer rain as I sob uncontrollably. I feel completely broken, and I’m unsure where to go or what to do from here.
Maybe I need to call him and ask him myself.A small part of me hopes he will say exactly what I want to hear, of course. He will tell me he has feelings, but the thought of facing him and opening that wound is almost unbearable now. Not that it ever really closed.
Do I call him?I ponder. My tears flow down my face and disappear into the droplets of water flowing down my skin.I don’t think I have the courage.
I start to cry harder because I know I need to get it out of my system before I go cook mom dinner. She can’t know how badly I’m struggling. She can’t know why I’m struggling in the first place.
It’s over with Aiden. No matter how hard I try to find some sort of alternate meaning to his words, there’s not a glimmer of hope in my mind that what he’s saying on the TV isn’t his honest truth.
I mean nothing to him. That’s all there is to it.
46
AIDEN
Now that the interview is over, there’s something I know I must do. I find myself outside my dad’s office. I urge myself to walk through the door and straight up to my father. He glances at me carefully, not saying a word.
“Can I have a few minutes to talk with you in private?” I ask. “I really need you to hear me out for a moment,” I add more persistently.
The amount of confidence in my voice does not reflect exactly how I feel on the inside.
My father looks at me, sitting in his high-backed office chair behind his large oak desk, and gestures to a chair straight across from him. I slowly take a seat and stare directly at him for a moment before I shift my gaze to the floor.
My mind’s racing, and I’m unsure how to start the conversation, so it relieves me when my father finally speaks up.
“Okay, Aiden, what’s on your mind?” he asks with a surprising amount of patience in his tone.
My mind fires off like a cannon.Where do I even start with this? I guess I better just jump in and speak honestly, truthfully.
