me to dinner. I’ve always refused because Aiden seems like he wants to chop my head off.
Today, I drove the whole way here. And although I spent almost two hours on the road, I still haven’t exactly managed to gather my thoughts.
The rain pours as if the sky is revolting against the world. The dusk has come and gone, and the early evening adds to the gloominess of the heavy downpour.
I’m soaked in seconds during the small trip from my car to the front door. My hair sticks to my temples and water forms rivulets down my face.
When I came up with this idea, my only angle was that, aside from Jonathan, Aiden knew Alicia the best. He would’ve noticed if there was something amiss with his mother.
I press the doorbell with hesitant fingers as doubts creep in, the most prominent of all being that Aiden doesn’t like me. Why would he talk about Alicia in front of me when he thinks I’m an impostor?
This was a bad idea, after all. If I leave now, they’ll probably chalk up the ringing bell to a child’s prank.
Before I can run away, the door opens. Elsa appears on the threshold wearing shorts and a sleeveless top. Her long hair is held up in a neat ponytail and her face is soft and beautiful, even without an ounce of makeup. Upon seeing me, her lips widen in a gorgeous smile.
“Aurora! What a lovely surprise.” She wraps her arms around me in a hug, uncaring about the fact that I’m soaked.
“I’m sorry for coming without notice.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re always welcome here.” She ushers me inside. “Come in. The rain got you.”
“Thank you.” I remain in the entrance so that I don’t drip all over the shiny wooden flooring.
Their house is nothing like the King mansion. It’s smaller, homier, and has elegant but personal decor, like the small house figurines and the painting of Aiden and Elsa on their wedding day. Astrid must’ve done it — it has her special, unconventional touch.
The size and the feel of the house makes me wonder if Aiden wanted to exchange the big, empty, and cold King mansion with a place that he considers home. A place where he can start anew with Elsa.
“Why are you standing there?” Elsa motions behind her. “Come inside.”
“I’m good here.” I clear my throat. “Is Aiden around?”
“Yeah, he —”
“Sweetheart?” His voice filters in from the top of the stairs. “What did I say about opening the door? I’m the only one who does it. No one gets to look at you in those tiny clothes.”
“There he is.” Elsa shakes her head and whispers, “Sorry about that.”
“You don’t need to apologise.” A small smile grazes my lips, remembering how Jonathan acted this morning in front of Ethan.
Like father, like son.
My smile falls when Aiden joins his wife and watches me with a furrowed brow. Like her, he’s wearing cotton trousers and a simple white T-shirt. His black hair is tousled, and I can’t help staring at the small mole at the edge of his right eye — the only physical feature he inherited from Alicia.
He places an arm around Elsa’s waist and pulls her to his side, almost as if he wants to protect her from me. “What are you doing here?”
She elbows him. “Is that a way to treat our guest? She came all the way from London during this rain.”
“She’s not my guest.” He continues to study me, probably waiting for an answer to his question.
“I…I want to ask you something.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
Elsa pulls away from his hold, glaring him down, even though he’s way taller than her. She then takes my hand and leads me inside and seats me on the sofa, despite my attempt to protest.
By the time she brings a fluffy towel and wraps it around my shoulders, Aiden has followed after, his hands in his pockets. His grey eyes narrow on me as if I’m a liability he needs to get rid of.
“I’ll go get you something hot to drink.” She smiles at me, then stares at Aiden. “Be nice.”
“I’m anything but nice, remember?” He gives her an undecipherable glance, and although I can’t quite read it, Elsa’s cheeks redden.
It’s fascinating how they can understand each other with a mere look.
That’s how Jonathan made me sit on his lap or lie on my stomach. Sometimes, he didn’t have to say a word, and even if he did, it was because I was acting out