Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 206

Chapter 206

For a brief moment, I almost said yes. The silence in the house was suffocating, the air thick with an unbearable heaviness. But deep down, I knew exactly how that visit would unravel—comfort would blur into something dangerous, lines would be crossed, and regret would inevitably follow.

Me:

Not a good idea. Not right now.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and mechanically went through the motions of my day—brewing coffee, taking a shower—but nothing felt real, nothing resembled life. Christmas Eve crept in like some unavoidable duty. My fingers itched to dial Noah’s number, to hear his voice again, to whisper the words I still held inside: I love you, even if he refused to listen. But I held back.

Not because I cared about the Harts, but because I didn’t want to add more weight to the burden already crushing him.

I had planned so many things for tonight.

A quiet dinner, just the two of us. A movie he loved. The small Christmas tree I’d bought weeks ago, back when I still dared to imagine we might celebrate together. Beneath it, a carefully wrapped stack of gifts—each chosen with ridiculous care. A signed football from his favorite player. A leather bracelet, engraved inside with the words Yours, always. A silver pen for his desk, even though I knew he hated writing by hand. And a picture frame meant to hold our first photo together—still empty.

The house glowed softly with the warm twinkle of the Christmas lights I hadn’t bothered to take down. I refused a handful of invitations—one from my coworkers, another from the office holiday party I’d long stopped attending—and ignored Micah’s final pleading: “You don’t have to be alone tonight, Sir. Please.”

I told him I had plans. I didn’t.

Christmas Day arrived heavy and oppressive. I made coffee but didn’t drink it. The silence felt alive, pressing in on me from every side.

At some point, I gave in. “You know what? Screw it,” I muttered, snatching up my phone. “Better this than calling him.”

I opened the app and scrolled mindlessly through the feed I’d sworn off checking. His profile, photos of games, alumni events, random holiday snaps—and then, there it was. The latest post, pinned by over a dozen people.

Noah Blake and Lexie Hart: Engaged.

The words hit me like a punch to the ribs. The photo showed them standing before a glowing Christmas tree, her hand raised to flaunt the ring, his arm wrapped casually around her waist.

He was smiling.

No.

No, please.

This couldn’t be real.

The room spun. My phone slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. I sank to my knees beside it, staring at the screen until the image blurred through my tears. My chest tightened painfully, breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Just like I am.

My vision narrowed. The words swam before my eyes, the room seemed to dissolve around me. I could almost hear his voice—flat, hollow, defeated.

I stared at the message until the screen dimmed. Then I dropped the phone once more, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying desperately to shove the ache back into whatever dark corner it had crawled out from.

But it was too late. The pain had teeth.

I whispered into the empty room, my voice raw and trembling.

“Then so am I.”

The lights on the small tree flickered once, then went dark, casting long shadows that stretched across the walls. Somewhere outside, the world was celebrating.

Inside, I finally broke.

6:15 pm P

Crossing Lines