Chapter 28 Something stupid Or honest
The lights were blinding. The cameras were deafening. Ariella couldn’t see individual faces, just a blur of people and equipment and expectations.
But Aiden was beside her. Solid. Real.
They reached the podium. Aiden pulled out the prepared statement, but before he could read it, something shifted in his expression.
He put the paper down.
“I’m not going to read this,” he said.
Patricia looked like she might have a stroke in the wings.
“The statement is perfectly written,” Aiden continued. “Professional. Polished. And completely dishonest about what actually matters.” He took a breath. “So I’m going to tell you the truth instead.”
Ariella’s heart stopped. What are you doing?
“I met Ariella three weeks ago,” Aiden said. “We didn’t meet at some gala. We met because my father was dying and I was falling apart and she was drowning in her own family’s crisis. We met because we were both desperate. Both scared. Both doing whatever it took to protect the people we love.”
The room was dead silent.
“And yeah, there’s a contract. There’s legal paperwork and financial arrangements and all the practical reasons why this makes sense for both our families. But you want to know what’s not in that contract? The way she stays awake with me through nightmares because she knows what it’s like to lose someone. The way she calls me out when I’m being an entitled asshole. The way she makes me want to be better than I actually am.”
Ariella’s eyes were burning with tears.
“Is this love?” Aiden looked at her, and his expression was so raw it hurt. “I don’t know. I’m eighteen. What do I know about love? But I know that when I’m with her, I feel less alone. I know that she makes this impossible situation feel possible. I know that…” His voice cracked. “I know that I want to try. To be the person she deserves. To build something real out of all this mess.”
He turned back to the crowd.
“So yeah, we’re young. Yeah, this is fast. Yeah, there are practical reasons behind this. But there’s also something here that’s worth fighting for. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Aiden stepped back from the podium.
The room erupted, questions shouting over questions, cameras flashing, chaos.
But Ariella couldn’t hear any of it.
Because Aiden was looking at her like she was the only person in the world. Like he’d just set himself on fire in front of fifty journalists and didn’t regret it. Like he meant every word.
“What did you just do?” she whispered.
“Something stupid. Or honest. I’m not sure which.”
“Aiden…”
“Questions!” Patricia’s voice cut through, trying to regain control. “We’ll take three questions.”
A reporter shot up. “Miss Hayes, is what Aiden said true? Is this marriage primarily a business arrangement?”
Every coaching session with Patricia flew out of Ariella’s head. Every practiced answer. Every polished deflection.
“Yes,” she said. “And no.”
Patricia looked like she might faint.
“Yes, there are practical reasons,” Ariella continued. “My family was facing eviction. Aiden’s family needed…” She stopped, glancing at him. He nodded. “They needed someone to stand beside him during a really difficult time. So on paper, yes, this is an arrangement.”
The reporters were scribbling frantically.
“But Aiden’s right. There’s something else here. Something I didn’t expect. He makes me laugh when I want to cry. He sees me! the real me, not the version I perform for everyone else. And I…” Her voice shook. “I care about him. More than I thought I could care about someone I’ve known for three weeks.”
She looked at Aiden. “I don’t know if that’s love. But it’s something. And it’s real.”
Aiden took her hand, right there in front of everyone.
“One more question,” Patricia managed.
“For both of you,” a journalist called out. “ when the contract ends,what happens then?”
Ariella and Aiden looked at each other.
“I don’t know,” Aiden said honestly. “We haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“But we’ll figure it out together,” Ariella added. “That’s kind of the whole point.”
Patricia ended the conference before anyone could ask follow-ups.
Backstage, she looked like she might murder them both. “That was…what did you…you completely went off script!”
“I know,” Aiden said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. That was…” Patricia stopped. Stared at them. “That was either the worst decision or the best decision you could have made. I have no idea which. But it was definitely honest.”
“Is that good?” Ariella asked.
“In politics? No. In PR? Usually no. In love?” Patricia’s expression softened. “Maybe. We’ll see what the internet does with it.”
They found out two hours later, back at the mansion, huddled around Aiden’s laptop.
The announcement had gone viral.
Not in a bad way but in a weird, unexpected, “these kids are either crazy or adorable” way. The hashtag #FrostHayes was trending. People were sharing the photos, the video clips, their own stories of unexpected love.
Some comments were cruel: Gold digger. Arranged marriage for money. She’s using him.
But more were sympathetic: They look genuinely happy. At least they’re honest about it. I hope they figure it out.
“We broke the internet,” Ariella said weakly.
“Is that good or bad?” Lily asked. She’d joined them in Aiden’s room, curled up in the reading chair, eating popcorn like this was entertainment.
“I have no idea,” Aiden admitted.
His phone rang. Marcus.
“Don’t answer it,” Lily advised. “Nothing good comes from that.”
Aiden answered it anyway. “Marcus, I know, I went off script, I’m sorry…”
He stopped. Listened. His expression changed.
“Seriously? They did?” Another pause. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Marcus.”
He hung up.
“The board of directors watched the press conference,” Aiden said slowly. “And apparently, they loved it. They think the ‘honest young love’ angle humanizes the company. Makes us seem less like corporate robots.” He laughed, slightly hysterical. “We accidentally did exactly what they wanted by being honest.”
“So your disaster press conference was actually a success?” Lily asked.
“Apparently.”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“So fucked up,” Aiden agreed.
Ariella started laughing. Couldn’t stop. The absurdity of it all, the fact that brutal honesty had worked better than careful lies, that their real feelings had become the best performance, that they’d accidentally succeeded by failing to perform.
Aiden started laughing too. Then Lily joined in. And they sat there in his room, the three of them, laughing until they cried.