Chapter 67
Aiden’s POV
Chicago was exactly as I remembered – relentless, impersonal, and constantly moving. Three days into this business trip, and I’d already closed two major deals that would expand Carter Group’s footprint across the Midwest.
Lucas had organized my schedule with military precision: meetings stacked back-to- back, working lunches, evening networking events that stretched well past midnight.
I should have been satisfied. Instead, I found myself staring out my hotel window at 2 AM, my thoughts drifting home.
To her.
“Mr. Carter, the Henderson contract needs your signature,” Lucas said, placing another folder on the already towering stack on my desk.
I nodded absently, clicking my pen with more force than necessary. “What’s next on the schedule p>
“Dinner with the Martins at seven, followed by drinks with the Chicago board members p>
Another endless evening of small talk and strategic negotiations. Normally, I thrived
in these environments. Now, they felt hollow.
“Cancel it,” I said suddenly.
Lucas looked up from his tablet, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry p>
“The dinner, the drinks – cancel them all.” I stood, buttoning my suit jacket.
“Reschedule the remaining meetings for tomorrow. I want everything wrapped up by noon p>
“But sir, we’re supposed to stay until Sunday p>
“Plans change, Lucas.” I caught myself, softening my tone. “I need to get back to New York p>
To Aria.
“Is everything alright? Has something happened at home p>
Yes. No. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that Aria had looked troubled when I’d left, saying we needed to talk “about us.” About our arrangement. The uncertainty had gnawed at me all week, growing more unbearable with each passing day.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to be back sooner than planned p>
Lucas stared at me for a moment, then his expression shifted into something dangerously close to understanding. “I’ll make the arrangements right away p>
As he left, I found myself staring at my reflection in the window. When had this happened? When had a business arrangement become something I couldn’t compartmentalize? Something I couldn’t control?
The realization had struck during a merger negotiation yesterday. The CEO had mentioned his recent divorce, lamenting, “Work is the only reliable mistress.” The other men had laughed, nodding in agreement.
I’d opened my mouth to agree – then stopped. Because suddenly, with perfect clarity, I knew I didn’t want that sterile existence anymore.
Not when I’d seen what life could be with Aria in it – her warmth, her music, her quiet strength that had emerged from the shadows of her past.
The memory of finding her asleep at the piano, how she made me noodles, just because she knew I needed something warm.And the feel of her beneath me. Around me.
Every memory lodged itself deeper than I wanted to admit.
Damn it. I was in love with my wife. My contractual, temporary wife.
I loosened my tie, feeling the weight of this realization press down on me.
Aria had agreed to our arrangement when she was vulnerable, desperate to escape the humiliation of Liam’s betrayal.
What if she still saw our marriage as nothing more than a convenient business transaction?
What if her wanting to “talk” meant she was ready to end it?
By the next evening, I’d successfully compressed three days of meetings into one marathon session. My flight was scheduled to depart in two hours, leaving me with some unexpected free time.
As I walked through Chicago’s Magnificent Mile, a display in a jewelry store window caught my eye. A delicate rose gold necklace with a small pendant shaped like a piano key. I stopped, remembering the blue shirt Aria had bought for me weeks ago – a simple gesture that had affected me more than I’d let on.
“That piece just came in yesterday,” said the elegant older woman behind the counter when I entered. “You have excellent timing p>
I examined the necklace more closely. The pendant was inlaid with tiny diamonds that caught the light, reminiscent of how Aria’s eyes sparkled when she played.
“It’s perfect,” I said, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice.
The saleswoman smiled. “For your wife?” When I nodded, she continued, “You have excellent taste. This piece is from our Harmony collection. The piano key symbolizes the music two souls make when they find each other – their own unique melody p>
“I’ll take it p>
As she wrapped the purchase, she commented, “Your wife must be very special. Most husbands just grab whatever’s closest to the register.” Her eyes crinkled with amusement. “You must love her very much p>
Five weeks ago, I would have corrected her automatically. Today, I simply said, “I do p>
The words felt right. True.
Terrifying.
I arrived home later than expected. The house was quiet, illuminated only by the soft landscape lighting outside and a single lamp in the foyer. It was nearly midnight – Aria was likely already asleep.
I’d check on her tomorrow. We’d have that talk she wanted. And perhaps, if I could find the right words, I’d tell her what I’d realized in Chicago.
I was heading toward my study when I heard it – the faint sound of piano music coming from the direction of the music room.
Aria was still awake, lost in her playing as she often was late at night.
I followed the sound, mesmerized by the haunting melody. Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2. One of my mother’s favorites.
I stood in the doorway, watching her. She was completely absorbed, eyes closed, swaying slightly with the music, her fingers dancing across the keys with a fluidity that always fascinated me.
In that moment, she looked ethereal, untouchable – and yet so fundamentally part of my home that it physically hurt.
Then something shifted in her posture. Her eyes flicked up to the reflection in the piano, and she spotted me. Her fingers stumbled, hitting a jarring wrong note that shattered the spell.
“Aiden! You scared me half to death.” Her hand flew to her chest. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow p>
“I wrapped things up early.” I moved into the room, suddenly uncertain of my welcome. “I didn’t mean to interrupt p>
“No, it’s fine.” She stood up quickly, smoothing her shirt. “How was Chicago p>
“Productive.” I studied her face, trying to read what was behind her nervous expression. “Before I left, you said we needed to talk when I returned p>
A flash of something-panic?-crossed her features. “I did, yes p>
“What did you want to discuss p>
She bit her lip, her eyes darting away from mine. “It’s… complicated p>
Her gaze dropped to my hand and her brows drew together. “What’s that p>
I followed her line of sight, then lifted the small velvet box I’d almost forgotten I was holding. “Oh. This is for you p>
Her eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face. “You brought me something p>
I nodded and stepped closer, handing her the box. “Just open it p>
With careful fingers, she unwrapped the silver paper and opened the box. Her sharp intake of breath was audible when she saw the necklace.
“Aiden She lifted it from the velvet lining, the piano key pendant catching the light. “It’s beautiful p>
“It reminded me of you.” I stepped closer, taking the necklace from her trembling fingers. “May I p>
She nodded wordlessly, turning and lifting her hair. I fastened the clasp at the nape
of her neck, my fingers brushing against her warm skin. When she turned back to face me, her eyes were shining.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “But why p>