Aunt Lyla’s expression, which had softened upon seeing him, now sharpened back into that careful, protective stillness. Her eyes, warm and welcoming just a second before, narrowed slightly as she looked him over again. The pieces were not fitting together.
"Why," she asked, her voice dropping to a lower, more deliberate register, "do you want to et her?"
Aaron shifted on the doorstep, his composure seeming to waver under her intense gaze. "I... I just need to talk to her," he said, the words coming out in a rushed, earnest tumble. "She left, and she was so angry. She misunderstood sothing, and I have to explain."
"Misunderstood sothing?" Aunt Lyla echoed, her head tilting slightly. A deeper suspicion, cold and unwelco, began to coil in her stomach. She took a half-step forward, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Are you... that secret boyfriend? The one she never brought ho?"
Aaron froze. All the color seed to drain from his face, leaving his features stark. His breath hitched, a tiny, telling sound in the quiet. He stared at her, his silence louder than any word. "You... know?" he finally managed, the words barely audible.
It was as if a mask had shattered. Aunt Lyla’s posture stiffened, her hands curling slowly into fists at her sides. The mory of Georgia’s broken sobs, the feel of her trembling against her shoulder, the poison in her whispered words—He just replaced —flooded back, rging violently with the young man standing before her.
"She told everything," Lyla said, and the words were heavy with the weight of that shared grief. The warmth was gone from her voice, replaced by deep anger. "I sat with her. I held her hands while they shook. I can’t believe... I can’t believe it’s you." She took a sharp, shuddering breath. "If you are promised to soone else, if your path was already chosen, then why? Why did you waste her ti? Why did you take her light and act like it was yours to dim?"
Her voice rose, not in volu, but in intensity, each question like a lash. "Do you hold a girl’s heart so lightly? Do you think it is a toy? Sothing to play with until you are bored? Do you think it does not feel? That it does not shatter into pieces so small they can never be fully gathered again?"
She was seeing double—Georgia’s tear-streaked face and her own reflection in a long-ago mirror. The mory of how her husband cheated on her with her best friend without thinking about her feelings.
She hated cheaters.
Aaron opened his mouth, a pained protest forming in his eyes, but no sound ca out. He looked stricken, as if each word had been a physical blow.
The fierce energy seed to drain from Lyla all at once, leaving behind a weary, profound disappointnt. She looked at him—this boy she had welcod into her ho, whose smile she had found sweet, whom she had thought was a good friend to Alina—as if she were looking at a cherished picture that had been ripped in half.
"I used to think," she said, the anger cooling into sad, final certainty. She shook her head slowly, turning her gaze away from him. "I used to think you were a good man. Gentle. Different." Her voice was barely a whisper now. "But I guess... I was wrong."
Aaron found his voice, though it was rough. "Aunt Lyla, please. Just five minutes. Let explain to her."
"Explain what?" Lyla’s eyes flashed, her grip tightening on the door. "How you misled her? How you let her build a world around you while you were building one with soone else? What explanation could possibly cover that?"
"It’s not what you think," Aaron said desperately, taking half a step forward before stopping himself when he saw her flinch. "The engagent... it’s not... it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It’s my family. It’s an old arrangent, a promise I never wanted—"
"And that makes it better?" Lyla cut in, her voice like shards of ice. "That you hid it from her? That you let her love you, thinking she was your choice, while you were only ever... what? Passing ti? Waiting for your real life to begin?" The pain from her own history gave terrible weight to her words. "Do you know what that does to a person? To be made a secret? To be soone’s beautiful, hidden mistake?"
"She was never a mistake!" The words burst from him, louder than he intended, laced with frustration that seed to startle them both. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair, his glasses slipping slightly. "God, listen to . Please. I love her. I love Georgia."
For a mont, Lyla just stared at him, as if trying to reconcile the agony in his voice with the agony she had just witnessed in her niece.
"You have a strange way of showing love," she said finally, each word asured and cold. "Love doesn’t hide in shadows. Love doesn’t let the person you cherish find out from a stranger that your future is already signed away to another."
"I was trying to fix it!" he insisted, his composure fracturing. "I’ve been fighting my family on this the whole ti. Telling them it’s off. That I’ve t soone. That I’ve chosen soone. The engagent announcent... it was a last-ditch move on my father’s part. A power play. I was on my way to tell Georgia everything, but she had already heard. She had already run."
He took a shaky breath, his gaze pleading. "She misunderstood because I was too slow. Because I was trying to protect her from the ugliness of it all until I had a clean solution. I was a coward. I see that now. But I never, ever considered her a placeholder. She is the only future I want."
Lyla studied his face, searching for a lie. She saw panic. Sincerity. Exhaustion.
"Words are easy, Aaron," she said, her tone softening slightly, not with warmth, but with a weary kind of pity. "Especially for a man who has practiced keeping secrets. You say you were fighting for her. But what did she see? She saw a public announcent. She saw a future that had no room for her. Her heart cannot hear your private battles. It only knows the public defeat."
Aunt Lyla’s chest tightened with deeper sorrow for Georgia. There was a special kind of pain in seeing the man you loved publicly promise his future to soone else.
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