Chapter 34 I hope you save each other
On Wednesday night, Ariella finally opened Richard's letter.
She was alone in her room! actually alone, for the first time in days. Aiden was with Lily, reviewing the funeral arrangements. Marcus was handling something with lawyers. The house was quiet except for the sound of rain against the windows.
She sat on her bed and opened the envelope with shaking hands.
Dear Ariella,
If you're reading this, I'm dead. And you're probably angry. You have every right to be.
I manipulated you. Used your family's desperation to force you into a contract you never wanted. Tied your mother's future to my son's success. Did everything I could to trap you in a situation you couldn't escape.
I'd apologize, but we both know that's not enough. Words don't undo harm.
So instead, I'll tell you why.
When Catherine died, something in me broke. I became obsessed with control! if I could control everything, I could prevent more loss. If I could plan every move, I could protect my children.
But control isn't protection. It's just fear wearing a different mask.
I saw you and Aiden and recognized something: two people drowning in grief, both trying to save everyone but themselves. I thought if I forced you together, you'd save each other.
Was I right? I'll never know. But I hope so.
I hope that by the time you read this, the arrangement I forced has become something you chose. I hope you've found in Aiden what I found in Catherine, someone who sees you completely and loves you anyway.
And if not, if this was just another of my mistakes, then I'm sorry. I'm sorry I used your brother's death. Sorry I used your mother's pain. Sorry I treated you like a chess piece instead of a person.
You deserved better than me.
But I hope you'll stay anyway. Not for the money or the contract or the manipulation. But because Aiden needs you. And I think and hope you need him too.
Be brave, Ariella. Braver than I was. Choose love when I chose fear.
With regret and hope,
Richard
Ariella read it twice. Then crumpled it in her fist and threw it across the room.
"Fuck you," she whispered to the dead man who'd orchestrated her life. "Fuck you for being right."
Because he was right. She did need Aiden. And he needed her. And somewhere in the forced proximity and shared trauma, they'd built something real.
But that didn't make the manipulation okay.
Didn't make the lies forgivable.
Didn't make her any less angry.
She was still sitting there, crying and furious, when Aiden came through the connecting door.
"Hey, I heard…" He saw her face. "What happened?"
She handed him the crumpled letter.
He read it standing up. His expression didn't change except for a tightening around his eyes.
"He's still manipulating us," Aiden said finally. "Even from the grave."
"Yeah."
"He's telling you to stay. To choose me. Making it sound like it's about love when really it's just…"
"Strategy. Control. One last move to make sure his plan succeeds."
"Exactly." Aiden crumpled the letter further. "God, I hate him. I hate that I love him. I hate that I miss him. I hate that even dead, he's in my head, pulling strings."
"Me too."
They stood there in the wreckage of Richard's final words.
Then Aiden said: "After the funeral. After all of this. Do you want to leave? Actually leave, not because of contracts or obligations, but because you need to?"
"I don't know what I want anymore."
"That's fair."
"What do you want?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "I want you to stay. Selfishly. Desperately. I want you to choose this…choose us, without my father's manipulations forcing you. But I also want you to be free. To have choices. To not feel trapped."
"Those things are kind of contradictory."
"I know. But they're both true."
Ariella moved closer. Close enough to feel his warmth. "What if we made a new deal? Not your father's contract. Not his terms. Ours."
"What kind of deal?"
"After the funeral, we take a week. Separately. I go home to my mom. You stay here with Lily. We both get space to think without each other's grief bleeding into everything."
"And then?"
"And then we decide. Both of us. Honestly. Do we want to stay married? Do we want to fight Winters? Do we want…" She paused. "Do we want to try being real?"
"Real," Aiden repeated softly. "God, that sounds terrifying."
"Catastrophically."
"But also…"
"Also maybe worth it."
He took her hand. "A week apart. Then an honest choice."
"Deal."
"I'm going to miss you."
"It's a week, not a lifetime."
"Still. I've gotten used to you. Your chair by my window. Your terrible taste in music. The way you steal my coffee even though Marie will make you your own."
"I don't steal your coffee."
"You literally took it from my hand this morning."
"That was tactical coffee acquisition."
Despite the death, the grief, the manipulation, the pressure,they both smiled.
"After the funeral," Aiden said. "We'll figure this out."
"After the funeral."