Chapter 17: Family secrets

Lily's POV

I gaped helplessly in Eleanor Cole’s hospital room, my mind seizing to comprehend the words I just heard. Aiden's mother had been having meetings with Victoria. Secretly. And she hoped Aiden would give Victoria another chance.

‘

It was like Aiden had seen a ghost. "Mom, what are you saying?"

"I'm telling you that Victoria came to me. Multiple times. She was so sweet, so worried for my health. We spoke about you, about your father, of everything. Eleanor's voice was timid, but resolute. She said: You know how much she loves you. How she screwed up and yet, how much she’s evolved. And I believe her, Aiden."

“You don’t know what she did,” Aiden said, his voice strained. “The stalking, the threats, the fake suicide attempt —”

"She explained all of that. She was desperate. Heartbroken. People, when they’re in pain, do very crazy things. Eleanor reached for his hand. "Your father was an awful person. But Victoria isn't him. All she is, is a woman who loves you and made serious mistakes.”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. Mrs Cole, I don't mean any disrespect but Victoria is not safe. She has worked to kill my career. She's harassed us both. She faked a suicide attempt to try guilt Aiden."

Eleanor's gaze became glacial when she saw me. "And who are you to judge? You come into my son’s life, shake it all up and then you're in his hospital room telling me who he should be with or not?"

"Mom!" Aiden's voice was sharp. “Don’t speak to Lily that way.”

"I'm just being honest. Victoria was found to be withy ou for 2 years. She knows you. She knows our family. She was the one there for me when you were off trying to build your empire. Eleanor's voice cracked. This girl is nice, I bet. But does she get your world? Your responsibilities? Or is she nothing but a distraction?”

Each word was like a knife. My eyes stung with tears but I would be damned if I was going to let the fuckers fall. Not here. Not now.

"Maybe I should get going," I said softly.

"No." Aiden grabbed my hand. "You're not going anywhere."

"Aiden, your mother needs rest. And I—" My voice broke. "I need some air."

I wrenched my hand away and hurried out before he could stop me. The Hospital corridoor became a blur as I sprinted towards the elevator. Aiden was calling my name but I did not halt. I couldn't.

The elevator doors slid open and I stepped inside, poking the button for the ground floor. The doors were just closed and Aiden was running to me. We looked at each other for an instant before the doors closed fully.

Before the sobs, I got outside. Great, thick sobs that I used to try to muffle by putting my hand over my mouth. This was it. The unwanted reality check I needed. I would never be adequate for Aiden's world. His mother had made that abundantly clear.

With trembling hands, I reached for my phone and hailed a car. Then I texted Hannah.

"Need you. My studio. Please."

Her response came immediately. "On my way."

The commute back to my studio was a daze. Unlocking the door, I went directly to my easel. I hadn’t even turned on all the lights. Only the light over my desk.

I picked up a brush and began to paint. No plan. No sketch. Pure emotion exploding onto the canvas. Dark blues and grays. Slashes of red. My hand was working desperately, frantically attacking the pain with colour and form.

I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew I had to strip it out.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time meant nothing. I felt nothing but the canvas and the paint, nothing but an ache in my chest.

The door creaked opened as I heard, but didn't stop.

"Lily?" Hannah's voice, soft and worried.

I kept painting.

She came up from behind and softly removed the brush from my grip. "Sweetie. It's three in the morning. You need to stop."

"I can't." My voice was hoarse. “If I slow down, I’ll need to think. And if I think, I'll—"

I broke. Completely shattered. Hannah caught me as my knees buckled, and brought us to the floor. I wailed into her shoulder as she held me and patted my hair.

“Let me know what happened,” she said, in a low voice.

So I did. I told her everything. There is some involving with Eleanor and Victoria. Regarding her request that Aiden let Victoria back into his life. How she’d looked at me as if I were nothing. An intruder. A distraction.

“I will never be enough,” I murmured. "No matter what I do. I'm not from his world. I don’t have the proper background, and I don’t have the right connections. I'm just some artist who painted pretty pictures and got his attention for one second.”

"Stop that." Hannah pulled away to look at me. "You are enough. You've always been enough. Eleanor is one person. One who has clearly been subject to Victoria’s machinations.”

"But she's his mother, Hannah. And she is always going to be between us. Every family gathering. Every holiday. Every important moment. She’ll be there, wishing I was someone else.”’

“Then Aiden has to figure that out. He needs to choose you. Let his mother know you’re not going anywhere.”

"What if he doesn't? What if he figures his mom was right?

“Then he’s an idiot and you’re better off without him.” She stood and pulled me up. “But I also don’t think it’s going to happen. You hung the moon, that’s what that man sees in you.”

"That might not be enough."

My phone had been buzzing off the hook. Texts from Aiden. Calls from Aiden. I'd ignored them all. But Hannah picked it up now.

"Twenty-three missed calls. Fifteen texts. The last one says if you don’t respond, he’ll come here.” She handed me the phone. "You need to talk to him."

"I can't. Not yet."

“Then text him at least so he knows you’re safe.”

I grabbed the phone and sent a terse text. "I'm fine. I just need a moment to think.”

His response came immediately. "Please let me explain. My mother does not know everything. That doesn’t change anything between you and me.”

But it did change things. It changed everything.

I glanced at the canvas I had been laboring over. In my frenzy, I had given birth to something raw and powerful. A woman sinking beneath dark water, reaching for a light that appeared impossibly distant. It was desperate and beautiful and heartbreaking, all at once.

It was exactly how I felt.

“This is good,” Hannah said, examining the painting. "Really good. That’s the kind of work that brings people up short and makes them feel something.”

"It's pain. That's all it is."

"It's truth. And truth is what makes great art.” She turned to me. You know what you should do? Channel this. Use it. Paint a whole collection that expresses just how you feel. Not pretty, safe art. Real art. The kind that matters."

I stared at the canvas. She was right. I’d been holding out, trying to make art that would sell, that critics and collectors would like. But this, this visceral emotion was what I had to paint.

"I need to be alone," I said. "I need to work."

"Lily—"

"Please. I promise I'm okay. I just need to do this."

Hannah hesitated but finally nodded. "Tell me if you need anything. And eat something. You have protein bars in your desk.”

After she left, I returned to the easel. For hours I painted. One canvas was not enough; one, two and three. Four. Five. And each one a new expression of what I was feeling. Isolation. Fear. Strength. Vulnerability. Hope.

I was worn out but somehow lighter by the time dawn broke. Making, putting the pain into something tangible had helped. I wasn't okay. But I was closer to it.

My phone rang. Not a call. A video call. Unknown number.

I almost didn't answer. But something impelled me to press accept.

Victoria's face filled the screen. She was impeccably made up, seated in what appeared to be a hospital room. My hospital room. Eleanor's hospital room.

“Hi, Lily,” she said, her voice sleek. "We need to talk."

“How’d you get this number?”

"That's not important. “The important thing is that we find a way to communicate.” She moved the camera and I saw Eleanor sleeping like an angel on mute. His mother and I are now best friends. She’s really told me a lot about him. About his fears. His dreams. His responsibilities."

"What do you want, Victoria?"

I want you to be a good person. Walk away. Let Aiden life the life he’s supposed to have. Who knows his world. Someone who can lift him up rather than drag him down.”

"I'm not dragging him down."

"Aren't you? Look at what’s happened after you showed up in his life. Scandal. Drama. His mother suffering heart attacks from the stress.” Victoria moved her face toward the camera. If you love, let him go. You'll vanish without a sound, and let him work his way back to where he belongs.”

"And if I don't?"

"Then if Eleanor's health can't go on standing the gaff. She's so fragile, you know. Another shock could kill her." Victoria's smile was cold. "Meet me. Alone. We'll discuss terms. Otherwise, well, you’re just going to have to be all right with what is done or not done for Aiden’s mother.”

The screen went black.

I gazed at my phone, my heart racing. Was Victoria threatening Eleanor? Or was she bluffing?

In either case, this was not something I could ignore. If something happened to Eleanor and I turned my back, Aiden would never forgive me.

And I'd never forgive myself.

I snatched my jacket and walked toward the door. Whatever fiction Victoria thought she was living, whatever game she was playing, I would break it.

Once and for all.