Aaron sighed, leaning his head against the couch. Keeley had sounded so confident in his love for her that day, even though he'd never explicitly said it. When exactly had that confidence faded?

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she stopped believing in him. Even before he started ignoring her to throw the servants off their scent, their relationship had grown distant.

It probably began when they moved back to New York to get married, and he stopped valuing her opinions. Without the watchful eyes of others, she'd controlled most of their activities; he loved seeing her light up when trying new things.

That freedom didn't exist when surrounded by "ravenous wolves" eager to criticize every detail. Aaron thought he was helping her adapt to his world, but it only drove a wedge between them.

He cared about no one's approval but hers. Unfortunately, she wouldn't give him a chance to explain that, or anything, really. Their brief phone conversation was their most extensive communication in months.

Would she even believe a sappy love confession?

Aaron tried to recall what he'd said in the past to convince her of his love. He'd said she made him happy, that he enjoyed her companywas that it? How stupid had he been?

Had he ever told her she was the only reason life felt worthwhile? That she was his warmth and light in a cold, emotionless world? That her smile transformed winter into spring?

These thoughts had flitted through his mind back then. If he'd voiced even one, would she believe him now?

Why had he been so emotionally stunted, unable to utter "I love you" to the woman who meant more to him than all the money in the world?

Multiple moments flashed through his mind—moments when she'd confessed her love, and he'd remained silent—making him cringe.

He remembered her arms around his waist, her warm brown eyes gazing up at him as if he were the only person in the world. His response? A kiss.

He recalled lying in bed after making love for the first time, only rubbing her cheeks and kissing her forehead.

He remembered her signing off a phone call with "I love you," and his response being a mere "mm, bye."

Every time, he avoided the words, resorting to physical affection or noncommittal noises—like an idiot. Keeley first heard him say "I love you" only after angrily accusing him of hypocrisy for trying to win her back. Of course, she wouldn't believe it.

Shortly after they started dating, she'd asked why he liked her. He hadn't been honest, replying, "I just do." He was definitely an idiot.

Before realizing his chances of reconciliation were slim to none, he'd vowed to tell her he loved her every day—multiple times a day—if they rekindled their relationship.

That would never happen now. He was lucky she even accepted the food he sent to her lab. Their relationship wouldn't progress beyond that.

He should have known better than to think the universe would favor him after his rebirth. If Aaron and Keeley weren't meant to be, it was cruel to them both.

Dinah jumped into his lap, circling before settling down and instantly falling asleep. He absentmindedly scratched behind her ears. He wasn't completely alone; the cat still liked him. But it wasn't the same.

His phone rang for the fifth time that day, but he lacked the energy to answer. He knew it was his father demanding an explanation for the previous night's events.

What was he supposed to say? "Hey, I figured out your plot against me and didn't like it, so I acted fast"?

He couldn't ignore Alistair forever; he'd surely confront Aaron at work on Monday. He needed a valid explanation by then, or his plans would be ruined.

Maybe Cameron would have some ideas. He might as well call him.

He picked up on the sixth ring, sounding exasperated. "Aaron, it's Saturday. What do you want?"

"I could use some advice," Aaron confessed.

"Seriously? You're calling me on a weekend for advice? You've never done that before."

This might not have been his best idea. Cameron was likely busy with Jennica, judging by his tone. He persisted.

"Have you seen this morning's news articles?"

"I haven't been online; Jen and I have had a lazy day, watching movies. What's up?"

Oh, this was embarrassing! He should have anticipated this.

"I got fake-engaged to a nonexistent person last night, and I need an excuse for my father—for both not telling him and the public proposal."

He was stunned. "You what?"

Aaron didn't want to repeat himself. "You heard me."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"My father tried to force an engagement I didn't consent to with my worst enemy. I had to strike first."

Cameron's confusion deepened. "I thought your father was your worst enemy. Who's this new one?"

"Lacy Knighton. She's irrelevant. The important thing is, if I don't come up with a good reason, my father will know I refuse to listen to him, making it fifty times harder to remove him from the company."

"Your father tried to make you engage Lacy?!" Jennica's voice, incredulous, cut in. She was clearly close to Cameron to overhear.

"Hello, Jennica," Aaron said tiredly.

He hadn't expected her to be listening, but he shouldn't have been surprised. She and Cameron were inseparable. Even he and Keeley hadn't been that close.

The thought stung more than it should have. Cameron was one lucky guy.

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