Chapter 221

Noah

It was Saturday. The day that would forever mark our lives and change our future.

I barely made it through the morning after the call.

Talking to Aiden was the only thing that let me breathe long enough to function, and even then it felt like there was a hole in my chest no one could see. My heart was bleeding out but it didn’t matter—no one here cared. The show had to go on. Cameras, flowers, celebrity guests, the whole circus William built. I had to keep moving, keep smiling, keep pretending.

No one would ever know I just said goodbye to the person I loved. Not really. Not forever. Just long enough to destroy me.

But I stood up anyway. I had to. For Lexie. And for whatever life came after today.

The sun was sickeningly bright when I stepped out into the courtyard. People were already running around with clipboards and headsets—wedding planners, photographers, catering staff. William had flown in an entire circus for this, and they were treating it like the royal wedding of Texas.

The press had already gathered outside the gates. I could hear helicopters. I could hear fans screaming my name. Somewhere, someone was livestreaming. Headlines were popping up online before breakfast: "NFL Prodigy Marries Texas Oil Heiress"—"Wedding of the Decade"—"Lexie Hart Finally Ties the Knot."

If only any of them knew.

The kitchen at the estate smelled like cinnamon and coffee, but my stomach felt like it was filled with stones. Lexie sat alone at the head of the breakfast table—the only quiet corner of this place—wearing a robe, hair curled but unpinned, makeup half-finished like she’d gotten up and tried to be strong before remembering she didn’t know how.

She looked up when she saw me. For a second, her face softened, and she looked like my Lexie—the girl who laughed too loud and dreamed too big.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

We didn’t say more at first. We just existed. Quietly. Together.

She pushed a plate toward me that she didn’t touch herself. “The chefs made everything. They’re upset I’m not eating.”

“Yeah, the wedding planner side-eyed me too,” I murmured. “Apparently, I’m supposed to hydrate like an athlete about to run a marathon.”

Lexie snorted. “If they only knew.”

We sat there, sipping water neither of us wanted.

Her eyes flicked toward the windows, toward the gardens where the reception crew had taken over every inch of space—huge white tents, flower arches, polished tables with crystal centerpieces, and strings of chandeliers hanging like they thought this was Buckingham Palace. It looked extravagant and ridiculous and… a little heartbreaking.

“So, we'll ride separately to St. Althea’s Cathedral,” Lexie murmured, more to remind herself than me. “And then come back together for the reception after that. Mom’s invited half the governor’s office and apparently three country music stars.”

I snorted. “Your mother’s trying to prove something.”

She gave a small nod. “She always is.”

She hesitated, eyes drifting to the decorated gardens. “I always dreamed of a fairytale wedding, you know? Like every girl growing up. Pretty dress, pretty flowers, my prince, and no one pulling strings.”

She swallowed hard.

“I knew… deep down… my dad would always take over, no matter who I chose. Maybe that’s why I escaped once, or why I hooked up before with guys who pissed him off the most. Just needed to remind myself this wasn’t his life to control.”

She laughed shakily. “And here we are. His dream wedding, not mine. His gain, not ours.” Then she looked up at me. “But… if I’m forced into an arranged marriage, I’m glad it’s you. I know I sound so selfish, but—”

“No, Lex,” I cut in quietly, squeezing her hand. “I get it. I mean, hell, I never even pictured myself getting married at all… Until—”

I had to look away before the ache swallowed me.

“Anyway, if someone was gonna blackmail me into tying the knot… I’m glad it’s you.”

I blew out a laugh. “Shit, that sounded a lot better in my head.”

Lexie laughed too, and that tiny moment of warmth held us steady.

We were still holding hands when fast footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Emily burst around the corner, hair curled and bouncing, cheeks pink, eyes shining with something between joy and worry. “Noah!”

I jumped up, hugging her tight. She held on even tighter.

“When did you get here?” I asked.

“A minute ago!” She smiled. “We went to drop off our dresses and stuff in the bridesmaids’ room. Mom’s talking to Lexie’s mom right now—they’re getting a little tour of the garden and decorations, I guess. I just… I wanted to see you first.”

Lexie gave Emily a soft smile. “I’ll go say hi to Margaret and check on things.”

She squeezed my shoulder discreetly and slipped away.

Then Emily held me by the arms and searched my face. “How are you holding on, Noah? Really.”

That one cracked me wide open, somehow more than anything else.

“I’m functioning,” I whispered. “That’s about it. Now that Lexie knows everything, I can breathe a little, because she’s been amazing, but my heart is breaking every minute. Talking to Aiden this morning… I didn’t even know a human could hurt that much and still move.”

Her eyes filled. She pulled me into another hug. “I’m so sorry, Noah.”

I swallowed hard. “How are you doing? With everything?”

She sighed. “It’s… good, mostly. For once. We’re able to do things, to smile without Dad controlling us or getting home drunk. And it feels amazing to breathe without fear.” Then her face fell. “But it also feels like… we’ll never actually be free. You know?”

She hesitated. “I’ve had a couple of ‘unknown number’ calls. So has Mom. They are new phones, so they’re probably spam or wrong numbers but… I still flinch every time. If a door slams, Mom jumps. If the wind blows the curtain, I panic.” She shook her head. “We’re all traumatized. I don’t know if we’ll ever shake it.”

I pulled her close. “You will be safe. With William’s protection, no one can touch you. Dad is gone, far away, and this place is a fortress. You are safe, Em.”

She nodded slowly. “I know. And we’ll handle one heartbreak at a time.”

Then she smiled—small but real. “Hey, I’ve been uploading a little memory collage on our Instagram. Pictures of our good moments. I want one with us dressed up today. Please?”

“Of course,” I said, smiling despite everything. “I’m going to get dressed in a bit. We’ll take a good one.”

She squeezed my hand. “Okay. I love you, Noah.”

“Love you too.”

I stood alone in the hall, staring out through the glass doors at the reception setup, and fuck, I wished it was Aiden waiting for me on the other side of all this—standing in his sexy suit at the altar. Or hell, in rags, at some tiny chapel where nobody knew who we were. I imagined walking toward him, blushing like an idiot, nervous and happier than I ever thought I could be.

Crap. Turned out I could actually picture myself getting married—to him.

I closed my eyes at the thought while tears spilled down my face. I needed to get dressed before I fell apart.

Back in the room, I pulled up our Instagram page—Emily’s memory collage already up, full of old pictures: us as kids, family trips, my first game, my first time driving Dad’s car, football wins, playing guitar at her birthday… Then, a few of the engagement and wedding announcement, which I skipped. Comments poured in from strangers and fans and guests and friends, all congratulating us, wishing us joy, sending hearts and rings and confetti emojis.

My thumb started scrolling through the flood without thinking. Wondering if Aiden had seen it too.

Love the pictures!!!

Congratulations!! You two look amazing!!

The most gorgeous couple in Texas!!!

The fairy tale begins 😍

And then one comment that didn’t even register at first, buried in the noise:

“Congrats on your wedding. I won’t miss next time.”

I almost laughed, misunderstanding the words.

Miss what? The next wedding?

I shrugged and kept scrolling, ignoring it completely.

There were a thousand more comments to go through, but no private message from Aiden. Maybe it was better that way.

I exited the app, tucked my phone in my pocket, and began to get dressed.