Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 105

Chapter 105

Jessica’s POV

“Momma?”

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Adrian’s voice was small, and cautious. He could sense the shift in the air, the way the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

He reached down to pick up the Polaroid, his innocent brow furrowed at my sudden paralysis.

“Jess, is there a problem?” Aunt Lydia’s voice cracked from the bed, worry etching deeper lines into her already weary face.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even blink. The walls of the room were closing in, the floral wallpaper suffocating me, the ceiling pressing down until my lungs were flat.

My mind was a white noise machine, screaming a single name over and over.

“Addie, bring that here,” Aunt Lydia urged, her hand outstretched.

Oblivious to the landmine he was carrying, Adrian trotted over to the bed and handed her the photo.

I was physically vibrating. My knees felt like they were made of water, and I had to clench my nails into my skin to keep from spiraling out completely.

I watched Aunt Lydia’s eyes scan the glossy surface.

I watched the moment she recognized the hand on Adrian’s ‘shoulder: the heavy, expensive watch, the long, powerful fingers, and finally, the face.

She gasped, the sound a ragged tear in the silence.

“Oh my God.” Her eyes shot to mine, wide and frantic. “Jess…”

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bear the weight of her shock or the confused, worried gaze of my son.

I stood and bolted for my room, the hallway blurring into a smear of beige and shadow. I slammed the door, twisted the lock, and dove into my bed.

I shoved my face into the pillow and let out a raw, muffled scream that tore at my throat.

Tears followed in a hot, messy flood, soaking the fabric as my bolly shook with sobs that wracked me from head to toe.

I felt like I was physically coming apart at the seams.

Aaron…. the way he looked at Adrian in that photo. It wasn’t just he polite smile of a visiting benefactor; it was a gaze of profound, haunting recognition.

It was the look of a man watching puzzle pieces click into place after years of searching.

What if he already knows? The resemblance was a loud, screaming truth: the same obsidian eyes, that specific slant of a smile, those unruly, defiant curls.

That pull of familiarity must have been like a magnet in his ches. A man with his resources didn’t leave things to chance.

He’d probably already sicced his private investigators on it, clawing through school records and cross-referencing timelines.

My disappearance six years ago, Adrian’s birth date… the math was simple, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out.

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Chapter 105

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My heart pounded like it was trying to batter its way out of my ribcage, thudding with an erratic, panicked rhythm.

I didn’t know how long I cried-minutes or hours-but no amount of salt and water could wash away the impending doom.

The phone on my nightstand buzzed relentlessly, its vibrations cutting through my sobs like a serrated blade.

I ignored it, curling tighter into myself, letting the emotions pour out unchecked.

Who was calling? Aaron? David? It didn’t matter; I couldn’t face anyone, not with this storm raging inside.

“Momma?”

Adrian’s voice was a soft, tentative thread through the wood of the door, finally piercing the heavy fog of my panic and dragging me back to the surface.

It was the only sound in the world capable of anchoring me when I was drifting toward a breakdown.

I sat up, the room spinning slightly as I dragged the heels of my hands across my soaked cheeks.

I swallowed hard, trying to find a voice that didn’t sound like it had been pierced by needles.

I wiped my eyes again and again, desperate to hide the evidence of my collapse, but the tears kept leaking out like a faucet that wouldn’t shut off.

When I felt stable enough, or at least like I wouldn’t collapse, I want to the door and opened it a crack.

Adrian stood there, his little face etched with sadness and worry big eyes wide like saucers.

It made guilt stab deeper-my boy, concerned for me when it should be the other way around.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, my voice hoarse from crying.

I crouched to his level, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the softness of his cheeks under my thumbs.

“What’s wrong, Momma? Do you not want me snapping with that superstar? Is he a bad person?”

His words tumbled out, innocent and earnest, his brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a puzzle too big for him.

I shook my head vigorously.

“No. No, honey. He’s not. It’s just….” I sighed loudly, the weight of it all pressing down.

How do you explain to a six-year-old that the “superstar” in the hoto was his father? That I’d kept them apart because of my fears?

The truth hovered on my tongue, but the words stuck, lodged like thorns.

I was about to continue, to find some gentle way to navigate this minefield, when the doorbell rang-a loud chime that snapped my heart in two.

I furrowed my brows, and glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten o’clock.

Who could that be so late?

I rose to my feet, still shaky, and looked down at Adrian. “Stay here, baby. I’ll go see who it is.”

I began stalking toward the door, my bare feet padding softly on the cool floor, each step feeling like a march to the gallows.

I heard Adrian’s light, curious footsteps following at a distance.

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Chapter 105

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He was only six, but somehow he thought he could protect his momma, his little shadow always ready to stand by me.

It warmed my heart even as fear iced my veins.

Peeking through the peephole, I expected Ella-maybe checking on Aunt Lydia or dropping off a forgotten dish. But the image that met my eyes made the world tilt violently on its axis.

Aaron.

I nearly choked on the air in my lungs. My knees buckled, and I had to lean my forehead against the cool wood of the door for a split second.

I stared at the wood of the door, my hand hovering inches from he handle.

I was trapped in a suffocating loop of indecision, the metallic scent of the deadbolt mixing with the cold sweat on my palms.

Don’t open it. The thought screamed in the back of my mind. If kept this door shut, maybe I could pretend he wasn’t there.

Maybe I could scoop Adrian up, pack a single bag, and disappear into the night before the reality of him caught up to us. But my feet were rooted to the floorboards.

I was paralyzed by a fear so thick it felt like breathing through wool.

Every instinct told me to run, but my curiosity-the part of me that still belonged to the girl who loved him-was a traitor.

I was so confused, my mind spinning between two versions of the same man: the untouchable, ice-veined billionaire I reported to at the office, and the boy in the hoodie who looked like he’d stepped straight out of my dreams-and my nightmares.

Which version of him was waiting for me on the other side of the door?

Fear was the only thing in control now, steering my hand toward the lock even as my heart begged me to stop.

I fumbled with the deadbolt, the metallic clack sounding like a gunshot in the quiet hallway.

When the door finally creaked open, I swallowed.

He was wearing black sweatpants and a matching hoodie, a beanie pulled low over his brow,

He looked casual, stripped of his armor-he looked like the teenager I’d first fallen for, the boy who used to show up at my window with late-night apologies and a lopsided grin.

“Jess,” His voice was a calm, deep vibration that seemed to settle the very center of my chest.

He had a lazy, tired smile on his face, the kind of look a man wears when he’s finally reached his destination after a grueling journey.

“Momma, is that-”

Adrian’s voice trailed off as he stepped out from behind me.

Yeah. This was it-the grand finale of Jessica Reid’s life.

I could almost feel the floor give way as the house of cards I’d been building for six years finally met a gust of wind too strong to withstand.

Six years of hiding, six years of looking over my shoulder, all ending on in a dimly lit hallway.

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Chapter 105

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The mask was off, the stage was collapsing, and for the first time in my life, I had absolutely nowhere left to run.

Aaron’s brow furrowed. His gaze dropped from mine, moving slowly down to the little boy peeking out from behind my leg.

I watched the gears turn. I watched the realization slam into him wiping the lazy smile off his face and leaving him rigid.

“Oh, Momma! This is the superstar from school!” Adrian shrieked, his face erupting into a grin so wide it could have lit up the entire night sky.

He stepped forward, radiating pure, unadulterated joy.

“You came to see us!”

As if life wasn’t already a nightmare, the heavy thud of a door opening echoed from down the hall.

Josephine, the neighbor from 4C, stepped out into the corridor, her hip propping open her door while she balanced a bulging, dripping black trash bag in her hand.

She didn’t even make it three steps toward the incinerator chute before the bag slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a wet, heavy thwack, her jaw dropping in stunned disbelief.

Her eyes darted from the grainy hallway light to the man standing in my doorway, the man whose face was currently plastered on every billboard and sports bar screen in the city.

“Aaron Tyrone?” she gasped, her voice climbing into a high-pitched, dramatic trill that cut through the quiet.

“Is that… are you really… Oh my God! Aaron Tyrone!”

The shout acted like a flare. In the cramped ecosystem of an apartment building, a celebrity sighting is better than a fire alarm.

Doors began to click and groan open all down the hallway.

“What? Where?”

“No way! What is he doing here?”

Neighbors in various states of undress-bathrobes, mismatched lannels, and undershirts-began to spill out, phones already being whipped out like weapons.

The hallway was suddenly too small, too bright, and too loud.

Aaron didn’t look at Josephine or her discarded trash. He didn’t even flinch at the flash of a phone camera from the other

rooms.

His eyes were pinned on me-dark, intense, and overflowing with a thousand questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

Adrian was beaming, looking back and forth between us like he won the lottery, oblivious to the fact that my world was currently suffering a total, irreversible cardiac arrest.

The secret was dead. The quiet life was over.

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