Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jessica’s POV

The tense, stifling dinner finally sputtered to an end. The family, like released prisoners, began to disperse, creating a wave of polite, spluttering conversation.

I couldn’t stand the suffocating atmosphere for a second longer. While Aaron was briefly cornered by a talkative cousin, I saw my chance and slipped away.

I didn’t have a destination; all I knew was the desperate need to escape their heavy, judging presence.

I stumbled out through a set of French doors and into the vast garden. Kennedy was right; it was an enormous space, a labyrinth of sculpted hedges and moonlit stone paths–certainly large enough for a brawl, or an escape.

My reflection suddenly caught my eye, trapped in a large, antique mirror fixed surprisingly into the trunk of a massive oak tree.

“Woah,” I muttered under my breath, drawn by the magical absurdity of it.

Who even thought of this bizarre installation? It felt like something out of a fairytale.

I walked toward it, and ran my fingertips through the smooth, cool surface.

The mirror revealed the full length of me: my dress, my broad hips, my face, framed by the cold moonlight.

And then, the familiar wave of insecurity crashed over me. Linda’s dismissive words-“went from Fiona to this“-mixed poisonously with years of self–doubt and taunts about my physique.

Standing there, beneath the silent gaze of the moon, I wished fiercely for magic–that the mirror would shatter into a burst of light, opening a portal to some perfect world.

A place where I’d be truly happy, where I could reunite with my mom, and where Aaron would love me back just as fiercely as I loved him. No judgments, no games, just us.

I stood in that silent communion for a long while, staring and wishing, until the cool night wind whipped through the garden, raising goosebumps on my skin.

Letting out a shaky breath, I turned to make my way back inside.

Once again, I was directionless, and I worried about finding my way back to Aaron in this huge, unfamiliar

mansion.

I was rounding a shadowy corner near what looked like a library when I heard voices leaking from a slightly ajar door.

“…I know Aaron, he can’t be dating that loser. I’m pretty sure he brought her here just to make me jealous.” It was Fiona’s voice, smug and self–assured, followed by a light, brittle laugh.

“I believe that, too. I mean, I remember visiting back in New Orleans, he practically hated her guts. I wonder what changed.”

Someone snorted–a cousin, perhaps.

I froze, and pressed against the cool stone wall.

Every careless word that spilled from their lips about me tore a tiny, fresh piece from my heart. It hurt, but the anger was starting to simmer, too.

“You know, I was thinking, what if we prove to everyone that they’re just faking?” Fiona’s voice rose, alight with a cruel idea.

I pressed my ear closer to the door, straining to catch her plot.

“What’s the plan?”

“Why don’t we make them kiss in front of everyone? Jessica is clearly a prude, I’m sure of it. And I know Aaron so well; he wouldn’t want to kiss her in public if they aren’t really dating.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild drumbeat. My first instinct was to run, to find Aaron, and warn him, but a part of me was fascinated by how obsessed they were with us.

Fiona was clearly still hung up on him, which begged the question: why cheat with Eric in the first place? Aaron was worlds better–taller, handsome with that effortless charm.

Anyone with eyes, anyone with a brain, would choose him over….

“Come on, let’s go.” Footsteps shuffled inside, heading for the door. I spun to bolt, but instead, I slammed right into a solid wall of chest.

His cousin and Fiona both wore expressions of utter horror, but Fiona’s was truly spectacular: her face was scarlet, her eyes filled with blistering disbelief.

Aaron settled me more comfortably on his hip.

He looked at me, a lazy, triumphant grin spreading across his face, his grunt a low, husky rumble that was just loud enough for them to hear.

“Jess,” he breathed, his voice low and seductive, “I’ve been fighting the urge to drag you into a corner all night.”

His eyes traveled over me with a gentle, hungry reverence that stole the air from my lungs. Heat swirled in those dark depths–want, tenderness, a hint of something dangerous, and it sent warmth flooding through me.

I only prayed this kiss held the same meaning for him that it did for me.

Lena snorted, rolling her eyes. “Aaron, control your pants and take that somewhere private–like your room. We don’t need a live show in the hallway.”

I caught Aaron’s eyes flicking toward Fiona, and for a heartbeat, a shadow of doubt crept into my mind, pulling me toward those depressive thoughts again.

But before I could spiral, his hand slid down boldly, grabbing my ass with a firm squeeze that made me gasp.

“Eric is tearing the mansion apart looking for you, Fiona,” he said, his voice dropping to a flat, chilling register.

“You should go meet him. He’s starting to get ideas that we might reconcile. Let me be perfectly clear: I don’t revisit history, especially when the pages are stained. I wouldn’t go back to my past, and I certainly wouldn’t go back to yesterday’s trash.”

Fiona’s lips parted in genuine, shocked pain, and Lena scratched the back of her neck and looked away, embarrassed by the raw cruelty of the remark.

Aaron didn’t wait for a reply. He kept his arm securely around me and began walking, leaving them stunned in the hallway.

As we moved away, I glanced back. Fiona was still frozen, staring after us, a statue of devastation.

A mischievous smile crept onto my face. I shot her a deliberate wink, then turned forward, resting my head triumphantly against Aaron’s shoulder.