Chapter 157: A plan

Sarah’s POV

“Sarah—we need to go. Now.”

For a second, the words barely registered. The world was too loud—cameras clicking like gunfire, voices hurling insults at me. Homewrecker. Wicked sister. You almost killed Zara.

Someone shoved closer. A flash exploded in my face, blinding me. My chest seized, my breath coming in short, painful gasps.

Then a warm, steady hand wrapped around mine. Aaron. He stepped fully in front of me, his broad shoulders forming a shield against the frenzy. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes burning with barely contained fury.

“Back off,” he snapped at the crowd.

The shouting only intensified.

“Aaron! Did you cheat with Sarah?”

“Did Zara try to kill herself because of your affair?”

“Are you leaving your wife for her?”

His grip tightened, grounding me. “Move,” he muttered under his breath.

For once, I didn’t fight him. I couldn’t. In the collapsing chaos, he was the only familiar thing left.

He guided me swiftly through the swarm, shielding my body as cameras trailed us like predators. Something slammed against the side of the car with a dull thud. Aaron cursed, yanking the door open himself when my shaking hands failed.

“Get in.”

I practically collapsed into the seat. The moment the doors locked, silence crashed over us—thick, heavy, and fragile.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, hands pressed to my mouth. My breathing turned ragged. “Oh my God…”

Aaron pulled out of the parking lot, jaw locked, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “You’re okay,” he said quietly.

But I wasn’t. I covered my face as fresh tears spilled.

“What just happened?”

Everything felt surreal. Dad was gone. Zara lay unconscious in a hospital bed. My son fought alone in the NICU. And now the world painted me as the villain who destroyed her sister’s marriage.

Technically, I had slept with Aaron. But not like this. Not the ugly, salacious story they were spinning.

“We’re ruined,” I whispered.

Aaron glanced over. “Sarah—”

“No.” A bitter laugh escaped me as I wiped angrily at my tears. “Seriously. We’re ruined. I’m ruined.”

My voice cracked. “I have a son now. A baby. How am I supposed to raise him in this mess?”

He gripped the wheel harder, staring straight ahead. “We’ll figure it out.”

I turned sharply. “How? How exactly?” The anger finally cracked through the grief. “That crowd out there? They hate me. They think I destroyed my own sister.”

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft patter of rain starting against the windshield.

Then the words burst out. “I’m in this mess because of you. You couldn’t stay faithful.”

Aaron stiffened. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, unexpectedly, his voice broke.

“I did it for you.”

I frowned. “What?

”

He looked at me then—really looked—his expression shattered. “I did everything for you, Sarah.”

My breath caught.

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head as rain streaked the windows. “You think leaving you was easy?”

“Please,” I muttered. “Don’t do this.”

“No.” His voice hardened, eyes flicking back to the road. “You don’t get to shut me down this time.”

The car fell quiet except for the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. “I loved you,” he said softly. “I still love you.”

The honesty in his voice hurt worse than any shout. I looked away, staring at the city view from the blurred window.

“Everything that happened with Zara…” He exhaled shakily. “It wasn’t what you think.”

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“Yes, you can.”

“No.” My voice cracked completely. “Not today. Not after everything that had happened. Zara is still lying unconscious in the hospital.

Aaron’s tone softened. “Sarah…”

I hated how my name still sounded different on his lips—like something sacred, like memory and grief wrapped together.

“We’re going to your apartment,” he said. “You’re not staying alone tonight.”

I almost argued, but exhaustion won. I simply nodded.

The rest of the drive passed in painful silence. When we stepped inside my apartment, the familiarity hit like a fresh wound. Dad’s favorite chair was empty, he wasn’t here to sit on it anymore. I looked away quickly, throat tight.

Aaron noticed but said nothing. For once, I was grateful for the quiet.

I dropped my bag by the couch and sank into it, every muscle aching. Aaron stood awkwardly for a moment before sitting across from me. The space between us felt wider than the room itself. He looked wrecked—messy hair, stress etched into every line of his face. And somehow, he still looked like home. That truth annoyed me more than anything.

“You should rest,” he said quietly.

I laughed, the sound hollow. “Rest?”

He sighed. “Bad choice of words then.”

I folded my arms tightly around myself. Silence settled again until Aaron stood and crossed the room. He crouched in front of me, close enough that I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the sadness, the fear.

“Sarah.” His voice dropped low. “Trust me when I say this. This time… I’m choosing you.”

My chest tightened painfully.

“I know I messed up.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “That’s an understatement. But even with everything falling apart…” He shook his head slowly. “I still choose you.”

The room suddenly felt too small.

“My career? Gone, maybe. My reputation? Probably destroyed.” His voice broke slightly. “But you? You’re still the person I want.”

For one stupid, dangerous second, my heart betrayed me. I almost believed him. Because beneath all the hurt and betrayal, part of me still loved him. And that might have been the worst part of all.

I looked down. “Stop.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Just stop.” I stood abruptly, putting distance between us. “I can’t hear this right now Aaron. My life is a mess right now… I’m messed up. I met his eyes. “And you have also been accused of attempted murder. She said you did this!”

Real silence fell. Aaron went completely still.

“Do you really believe that?” he asked, voice too quiet.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. The truth terrified me.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I whispered.

His face fell. Something vulnerable flickered across his expression. “Do you honestly think I could hurt her?” His voice cracked. “Me and Zara weren’t perfect—God knows we weren’t. But hurt her like that?” He shook his head slowly. “Not like that.”

I searched his eyes. For a moment, I believed him. Or maybe I just wanted to. Because despite everything, I still knew Aaron. Or thought I did. There was something genuine there—broken, desperate. For one fleeting second, I wanted to reach for him, to stop fighting, to pretend the world wasn’t crumbling.

But Zara’s pale face flashed in my mind. The scandal. The baby. Reality slammed back.

“It’s fine,” I said quietly, sitting down again and rubbing my temples. “Maybe the drugs messed with her head.” I looked up. “But right now… I have too much going on. How am I supposed to raise my son through all this?”

Aaron moved closer, gentler this time. “We’ll figure it out.”

I met his gaze. “We?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. “We.”

Something complicated flickered between us again—messy, unfinished.

Then Aaron leaned back against the couch, expression darkening. “Sarah… I know Zara. She doesn’t want us together.”

My stomach tightened. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this—” he gestured vaguely toward the chaos outside “—is only the beginning. She has more. And trust me… if we don’t get ahead of it, things are about to get a lot worse.”

The apartment fell silent. Aaron looked at me seriously. “We need a plan.”

My heart dropped. “A plan?”

He nodded once, jaw set. “Yeah. Because whether you want to believe me or not… we’re in this together now.”