Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 200

Chapter 200

For a man who had long since moved on from me, it no longer mattered. Even if this moment shattered me—and deep down, I knew it would—I was already broken beyond repair.

After breakfast, the house began its annual transformation once more. Soft carols drifted through hidden speakers, servants moved with precise, practiced efficiency, and the warm scent of pine and spices filled every corner. I barely managed to swallow half a muffin before my stomach churned uneasily.

Stepping onto the glass-enclosed porch, I saw snow falling thick and slow, blanketing the mountains in a pristine white. Lexie sat curled up on the wooden bench, a mug of coffee cradled between her hands, steam swirling gently upward. Her reflection shimmered in the windowpane, as if she belonged to some other, quieter world.

“You hiding out?” I asked softly.

She smiled, not turning to face me. “Something like that.”

I eased down beside her, our breaths fogging the cold glass before us. “Didn’t expect to find you alone. Thought you’d be with your family.”

Her laugh was gentle, tinged with fatigue. “When I was little, I used to sneak out here every Christmas morning. While everyone else was downstairs showing off, I’d sit right here and pretend I had a normal life.” She glanced at me, her eyes glimmering faintly. “Pretend I could just walk into town, hang out on Main Street with friends, watch the Christmas parade, drink bad cocoa, and laugh at something silly. Instead of this—” She gestured toward the sprawling estate beyond the glass. “The endless parties, the strangers, the people who never cared who I really was. Only who I belonged to.”

My throat tightened, a lump forming as I struggled to speak. “Even now?”

“Even now.” She gave me a small, sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve never been to a real Christmas party, you know? Not the kind with ugly sweaters and too much rum in the eggnog. Just this. The performance. The perfect family picture.”

I watched her closely, my gaze drifting to the snow melting against the glass between us. “One day, we’ll change that.”

She tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her expression. “Really? I can’t imagine you being here next year. I thought this one might’ve scared you off for good.”

Lexie settled beside me on the rug, her hand slipping naturally into mine. I looked down at the sea of boxes stacked beneath the tree—gifts I hadn’t chosen, hadn’t wrapped, hadn’t even paid for. William had made sure every tag bore my name. From Noah.

I smiled because that was what I was supposed to do.

“Ready?” Lexie asked, her eyes shining as her father reached for the first gift.

I nodded, though inside, something fragile and final twisted painfully in my chest.

Ready as I’ll ever be, I told myself.

Even if today was the day that would break me completely.