Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 126

Chapter 126

Chapter 126

Jessica’s POV

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“Wait,” I interrupted, my brow furrowing as the math started to click in my head. “How exactly do you just ‘keep tabs’ on someone across state lines? You were in Pittsburgh. We were in Arcadia Hills. That’s not exactly a neighborhood watch, Auntie.”

She gave a small, tired shrug.

“Money talks, even in small amounts. A few phone calls to the right people, a couple of favors owed from old friends… you’d be surprised what people are willing to share about the girl who lived in the ‘big house’ with the mean father. When you booked that cruise, I knew about it within forty-eight hours.”

I felt a prickle of unease. To think that while I was struggling to find my footing, someone had been watching my every move from a distance.

“I wanted to go,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I wanted to find you right then and there. But I just couldn’t swing the cost of the trip. I had to go back to Pittsburgh and just… wait. I figured I’d introduce myself properly when you got back. I never expected life to play its own game and bring you straight to my doorstep.”

She looked up at me, her smile fragile.

“I just happened to be the one walking by when you fainted on that sidewalk. I think your mother was looking out for you that day.”

I stood there, completely stunned, staring down at my hands. A cold prickle of sweat broke out along my spine.

If Aunt Lydia-someone with almost no money and zero influence-had been able to keep tabs on me from states away, what about someone with real power? Someone like Kennedy?

I shut my eyes tight and shook my head, my breath hitching in my throat. No, no. The thought was too much to handle.

As the silence stretched between us, my mind drifted back to what aunt Lydia had just revealed.

It felt wrong. Why would my mother, someone who supposedly had no one else-hide the truth from the one person she was closest to? Her silence felt intentional, like a secret buried under the floorboards of our family history, just waiting for someone to trip over it.

I remembered the old trunk I’d kept in storage.

My father had tried to burn everything related to my mother after she died, but I’d managed to scavenge a few things-some old, yellowed diaries and notes she’d tucked away. I made a mental note to find them.

I needed to see if there was a hint, a name, or a reason for the silence.

I was about to dig deeper, to ask the questions that were starting to burn, when the doorbell rang.

15:06 Tue, Feb 3

Chapter 126

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The sound sliced through the room, and my body went rigid, a sudden surge of adrenaline making my heart hammer against my ribs.

Beside me, the heavy atmosphere didn’t seem to faze Aunt Lydia; her eyes actually twinkled with a bit of knowing amusement.

She squeezed my hand one last time, a teasing smile finally breaking through her serious expression.

“Go on,” she whispered, her voice light. “Go get the door for your man.”

I watched her turn, the rhythmic thud of her cane echoing as she began the slow, purposeful walk toward her

room.

I stood there for a second, my lungs feeling tight as I listened to the silence she left behind.

I stared at the spread of food, my pride from moments ago completely dissolving into a ball of raw anxiety.

Would Aaron even care? I’d made the roasted chicken exactly the way he liked it during those few years we’d stayed together, and the pie was a silent peace offering for a sweet tooth I knew he may still have.

Part of me hoped for a glimpse of the old Aaron-the one who would catch the scent of my cooking and offer that warm, lopsided grin that made me feel like I’d won a prize.

But the other part of me was terrified.

What if his anger was too thick to see through? What if he just sat there in silence, the food turning to ash in his mouth while he looked right through me?

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper.

I smoothed my hands over my sundress, trying to press out wrinkles that weren’t there, and forced myself to walk to the door.

I pulled the door open, and there he was.

Aaron was leaning slightly against the doorframe, looking effortlessly casual in a fitted gray Henley that hugged his chest and shoulders.

He’d paired it with dark jeans and a pair of black sneakers.

His hair was a mess-tousled waves falling over his forehead like he’d been running his fingers through it the entire drive over-but it only made him look more like the man I remembered.

When he looked up, those deep brown eyes caught the afternoon sun, turning a rich amber.

He locked onto my gaze, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe.

Everything I’d been trying to shove down came rushing back at once: a sharp, painful ache of missing him, a tiny spark of hope I didn’t want to feel, and that same cold, steady fear that had followed me for six years.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

15:06 Tue, Feb 3

Chapter 126

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“Hey,” I breathed, stepping back to let him in. “You’re just in time. Lunch is ready.”

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I led him into the dining area, my movements feeling stiff and mechanical. In a burst of nervous energy, I hurried to the head of the table and pulled out a chair for him.

I realized a second too late how formal it looked-how desperate I seemed-but I couldn’t stop myself.

Aaron sat down slowly, his eyes scanning the table.

He didn’t say anything at first; he just stared at the plate of roasted chicken and the pie cooling nearby.

The silence was deafening. I stood there, hovering beside him, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

When the silence hit the five-second mark, I snapped.

“Don’t you like it?” I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other.

“Did I make something you don’t like? I remembered the chicken was your favorite, but maybe it isn’t anymore. Or maybe you don’t like pie? Are you on a diet? I can make something else, I can-”

“Jess.”

“I just wasn’t sure if your tastes had changed, six years is a long time and I know people change their habits and-”

Before I could spiral any further, Aaron reached out and grabbed my arm. His fingers wrapped around my forearm, his grip firm but not painful.

I froze mid-sentence. The heat of his skin against mine sent a jolt through me that I wasn’t prepared for, a familiar, electric spark that made my heart skip a beat.

He looked up at me, his expression softening just a fraction.

“Relax, Jess. It’s just me.” He gave a small, tired huff that was almost a laugh.

“It’s not our first date. I don’t know why you’re so nervous.”

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