Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 159

Aria's POV

I slumped onto the couch, still clutching Aiden's itinerary but unable to focus on it. My mind kept replaying Lucas's words over and over: "Mr. Carter came down with chickenpox last week. He had a fever for three straight days."

So while I'd been convinced Aiden was deliberately distancing himself from me, he'd actually been burning with fever and covered in chickenpox?

My eyes suddenly stung with tears. God, I'd been so childish with my petty anger.

I texted Lillian immediately: "...Lil, was I being too harsh?"

She replied bluntly: "Do you really need to ask me that question?"

"What should I do then? Just apologize?" I typed back.

"If apologies were enough, we wouldn't need police, would we?" she shot back. "I'll give you some straightforward advice - why don't you just tell him how you feel? Make him happy for once?"

"That's all the help I've got for you, honey!"

I sighed. Should've known Lillian wouldn't be genuinely helpful.

I turned to searching online instead, hoping the collective wisdom of strangers might offer better guidance. After scrolling through dozens of suggestions, I found almost nothing applicable to our... unique situation.

It wasn't that the advice was bad - it just didn't apply to whatever this arrangement was between Aiden and me.

God, this was hard. I was definitely reaping what I'd sown.

Just then, Nanny called me for dinner. I had no appetite, barely managing a few bites of food though I did finish a bowl of soup.

As Nanny cleared the table, she noticed my barely-touched plate. "Not hungry today, Mrs. Carter?"

I rested my chin on my hand, sighing. "Not really."

Looking at her, I hesitated before asking, "Nanny, if I've done something wrong, how do I apologize sincerely? Just saying 'I'm sorry' seems too... casual, doesn't it?"

Nanny efficiently wiped down the table. "Did you make Mr. Carter angry?"

I felt my face flush. "He's not angry."

That was part of the problem - if he'd been angry, I might not feel so guilty.

"I just don't know what to do," I admitted awkwardly.

Nanny smiled warmly. "That's simple! Why don't you make him something with your own hands? A little gift?"

Now that was actually helpful advice!

"But what should I make?" I asked.

"Whatever you know how to make, Mrs. Carter!"

I looked at her sheepishly. "I can cook a little... would that work?"

"Of course! If you're willing, you could make Mr. Carter some soup and bring it to his office. He'd be delighted!" Nanny said, then added with a knowing smile, "Plus, the people at his company would see how beautiful his wife is. Might keep certain... ambitious types from causing trouble."

I had to admit, Nanny had a point there.

"The only problem is I'm not great at making soup. Could you teach me?"

"Of course I can!" Nanny beamed.

"Nanny, you're the best," I said gratefully. "I'll make sure Aiden gives you a raise next month!"

She blushed slightly. "Thank you, Mrs. Carter."

That settled it. Tomorrow morning, I'd learn how to make soup from Nanny, prepare a few dishes, and deliver lunch to Aiden's office.

And no, I wasn't primarily motivated by Nanny's second point. This was purely about making amends. Nothing else.

Since he was asleep, if I moved carefully enough, he wouldn't even know.

After a brief pep talk to myself, I shakily reached toward his collar.

You can do this, Aria. His collar is already partly open. Just pull it aside gently, take one quick look, and you'll know how bad it was.

Good, you've touched the collar. Now carefully pull it back...

Perfect! The collar's open!

Just as I was about to lean forward for a better look, Aiden's eyes suddenly flew open. His hand shot up, catching my wrist. "Mrs. Carter?"

I was so startled that when his leg moved, it knocked against mine. I lost my balance and tumbled forward, landing right on his chest.

Well, shit.

Was there any chance he might believe whatever excuse I came up with?

Aiden lowered his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. "Throwing yourself at me?"

The moment those words left his lips, I felt my ears burning. Within seconds, the blush had spread to my cheeks.

"It wasn't intentional, Mr. Carter!" I protested, my voice unconvincing even to my own ears.

"You mean opening my shirt wasn't intentional?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

I fell silent for a moment, trying desperately to ignore my racing heart. With forced casualness, I glanced up at him. "Actually, I was trying to check your chickenpox."

As I spoke, I attempted to push myself off him, but quickly realized my only leverage point was his chest. There was nowhere else to brace myself.

I nearly whimpered in frustration. Who designed this couch without armrests? How inconsiderate!