Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 199

Chapter 199

Noah

Christmas morning arrived like a harsh nightmare disguised in sparkling tinsel and cheer.

The entire estate was transformed into something out of a holiday catalog—hedges dusted with artificial snow, wreaths adorning every doorframe, and candles flickering softly in each windowpane. Inside, the speakers pumped out carols at a volume that felt like it was drilling straight into my brain, while the heavy scent of cinnamon and spices hung thick in the air, almost suffocating. Around me, laughter bubbled up, joy radiated from every face. But I was nothing more than a hollow shell, wandering through this winter wonderland that felt more like a personal hell.

My temples throbbed painfully, and my stomach churned with unease. Two days had passed without a proper meal, and two nights without real rest. I operated on sheer autopilot, forcing a smile whenever eyes landed on me, nodding along to conversations I barely registered. The Christmas lights blinked relentlessly—gold, red, green—and I could swear they pulsed in sync with my pounding heart. It was all too bright, too festive, overwhelmingly fake.

Last night’s ball had been like stepping into a twisted fairy tale—or a nightmare, depending on the angle you took.

William and Eleonora, the reigning monarchs of their little kingdom, glided effortlessly across the ballroom floor, champagne flutes in hand. Lexie dazzled like the princess she was born to be, her gown a shimmering cascade of silver and tulle that caught every glimmer of light. And me? I was the prince who didn’t belong in this story.

William had made sure I looked the part—tailored royal suit, polished shoes, a smile practiced to perfection. I bowed, danced, and played my role flawlessly, every gesture choreographed as if I’d been bred for this moment. And everyone bought it. They saw a happy couple, a bright young man living the dream, the perfect match for their golden girl.

But what they didn’t see was the ghost haunting my eyes.

Once, maybe, I could have been happy. Not like this, but truly happy. A future that should have been mine.

Ours.

I saw it so vividly it cut like a knife—Aiden and me, quietly building a life just for ourselves. A small home near the fields, his weathered mug next to mine. Emily’s laughter echoing in the background. Meeting Jamie, shaking his hand, finally feeling like family again after all these years. A life untouched by tabloid headlines or contracts, defined only by us.

That dream was shattered now.

Just two nights ago, I’d nearly grasped it. I was ready to risk everything—the fame, the deals, the promises—to be nothing more than a man who loved another man. Maybe I just wanted to say those three words one last time, to hear his voice, to know the feeling was still there. Maybe he would have waited. Maybe we could have navigated this secret together—hide, pretend, survive a year, two, even ten—until it was safe.

Micah. He was with Micah.

Something inside me shattered so loudly I thought the whole world must have heard.

After that, everything blurred into meaningless noise.

I drifted through the party like a ghost. Toasts, laughter, presents—they all faded into static. The music, the camera flashes, the forced smiles—none of it registered anymore. I was numb, detached.

And now, Christmas Day. The big moment. The one William had been orchestrating from the very start. The day I finally surrendered whatever was left of my soul to the devil.

Crossing Lines.