CHAPTER 66: WALKING HEADACHE

Aiden’s POV

"Aiden."

Her voice was the same. Soft, familiar. A ghost from the past.

I turned, and there she was—Elizabeth.

Or rather, Liz.

The nickname I had given her when we were kids, because I always complained that "Elizabeth" was too damn long.

She was smiling at me.

The same smile she always used when she wanted something.

And damn it, she hadn’t changed a bit.

I already knew what I was going to do.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone, dialing Tobias. "Go pick up Alexia from the spa."

His startled "But sir—" was cut off when I ended the call.

I had bigger matters to deal with right now.

When I looked up, Liz was still smiling, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

She had always been good at that—looking at me like I was the only one who could fix whatever problem she had.

And damn it... even after all these years, I still had the instinct to do just that.

I called someone to come pick up her car. No way was I letting Liz stand here stranded.

Instead, I drove her to where she was headed while we caught up.

It had been ten years.

Ten damn years since she left.

She told me she’d flown in last night. That after a decade abroad, she was finally back.

I remembered that night, ten years ago, like it was yesterday. The night I lost her.

I had tried to make her stay.

Tried to confess my love to her.

But I had been too late.

According to her, I had waited too long. She had already made up her mind to leave, and nothing I said could change that.

So, she left.

She disappeared from my life, and I had no choice but to move on.

And now... she was here.

Back like a ghost from the past, sitting beside me like nothing had changed.

She was on her way to pick up the dress she was wearing to the same event I was attending.

Of course she was going to the event.

Liz was always meant for high society, for the glamorous world of luxury and wealth. She fit in effortlessly, unlike...

I shook my head, pushing Alexia out of my mind. No point in thinking about my stubborn little wife right now.

We arrived at the boutique, and I waited while Liz disappeared inside to change into her gown.

When she came out, dressed elegantly and looking every bit the sophisticated woman I remembered, I barely reacted.

I had spent years imagining this moment.

And yet, now that she was here... something felt off.

Still, I did what I was supposed to do.

I opened the door for her, let her slide into the passenger seat, and drove her to the event.

I had expected Alexia to already be at the venue when I arrived. After all, she was my wife.

We were supposed to make our entrance together. That was the plan.

Entering the event with another woman—especially one as stunning and well-known as Liz—would only stir unnecessary gossip.

And I hated gossip.

Especially when it was about me.

People already whispered enough about this marriage. Adding fuel to the fire was the last thing I needed.

So, as we pulled up to the venue, I turned to Liz.

"You should go in first," I told her, keeping my tone neutral. "I’ll join you later."

But, of course, Liz being Liz, she just smiled—that same knowing, teasing smile she always had when she wanted something.

"I’d love to meet your wife," she said casually, like she wasn’t waiting for a reaction.

And that reaction?

Oh, it came.

Something in my jaw ticked.

Of course, she wanted to meet Alexia.

She wanted to see who I married. Why I married her.

I could already imagine how this would go. Liz, elegant and poised, standing next to Alexia, my stubborn, infuriating little wife who could barely sit through a dinner without making me want to strangle her.

Just perfect.

I checked my watch, irritation creeping in.

Where the hell was Alexia?

She was supposed to be here by now.

So, we waited.

For my late wife.

And waited.

And waited.

The problem? She wouldn’t pick up her damn phone.

Despite the many calls I made, the woman had somehow mastered the art of ignoring me.

Frustrated, I called Tobias—my assistant, the one I trusted to make sure Alexia made it here on time.

Only to find out they weren’t even on their way yet.

I swear, I almost crushed my phone in my hand.

"Why the hell aren’t you on the way yet?" I ground out, barely containing my irritation.

Tobias, clearly terrified for his life, stammered. "Uh... she—uh—wanted to eat first, sir."

Eat.

Eat.

My dear wife, who already made me suffer this morning with her ridiculously slow pace, had decided to stop for a meal before coming to the event I had specifically told her not to be late for.

My fingers tightened around my phone.

I inhaled. Exhaled. Barely resisted the urge to throw something.

Instead, I sent her a very polite, loving, affectionate text.

"Get. Your. Ass. Here. NOW."

Liz, who had been standing beside me this whole time, let out a small, amused chuckle.

"She’s a free spirit, huh?" she teased.

I sent her a flat look.

"She’s a menace," I muttered.

Liz just smiled, shaking her head.

"Well, she sounds fun," she said, laughing.

Yeah.

Fun.

That was definitely one word for it.

The other word?

Headache.

Why the hell couldn’t Alexia be more like Liz?

When Liz had gone to change into her gown, I expected her to take an eternity—like Alexia always did. But no. Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen.

She even apologized for making me wait, explaining that the zipper got stuck.

Alexia?

She would’ve taken a whole damn hour, then blamed me for rushing her.

And now? Instead of being here, where she was supposed to be, she was eating.

Eating.

I swear, that’s all that woman did. Eat. Complain. Sleep. And eat some more.

And she wasn’t even fast about it.

Nope.

She was going to take her sweet, precious time, probably even order dessert, and make sure I suffered every second of it.

I sighed, running a hand down my face.

I felt bad for keeping Liz waiting outside with me, but she just smiled and said, "I don’t mind."

Of course, she didn’t.

Because she was polite. Mature. Responsible.

Unlike my walking catastrophe of a wife.

I checked my watch.

She better get here soon, or I swear—

Liz asked about my wife, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out the full horror show that was Alexia.

Because Liz?

She didn’t know my marriage was just a business deal.

She didn’t know I had married Alexia out of convenience rather than love.

And complaining about my wife now would only make Liz think I was miserable in my marriage.

That was not the image I wanted to project.

So, I did what any sane man would do—I dodged.

Swerved. Redirected.

I smoothly turned the conversation toward her life abroad.

"Enough about me," I said, forcing a casual smile. "Tell me, how was it living out there for ten years?"

Liz’s face lit up as she started talking about her experiences—the places she had been, the people she had met, the opportunities she had.

And I listened.

Not just because it was polite.

But because it was a welcome distraction from my slow-moving, food-obsessed, headache-inducing wife.

Still, as I nodded and pretended to be fully engaged, I couldn’t help but glance at my phone.

Ten more minutes had passed.

And Alexia?

Still. Not. Here.

I clenched my jaw.

If she wasn’t here in the next five minutes, I was going in without her.

Liz’s words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

"I thought you had waited for me, Aiden. That’s why I came back. But then I heard... you were already married."

For a moment, I just stood there, my mind blank.

She had come back for me?

And all this time, I had thought I was just a fool in love with a ghost from the past.

I wanted—God, I wanted—to tell her the truth.

That I had waited.

That I was still waiting, in a way.

That my so-called "marriage" was nothing but a business arrangement, a convenience, a legal necessity to secure my mother’s inheritance.

That Alexia wasn’t my wife in any real sense of the word—just a walking headache wrapped in expensive fabric.

But I didn’t.

Because what good would it do?

So, instead, I forced a bitter smile and said, "I did wait for you, Liz."

And that was it.

I didn’t elaborate.

I didn’t explain.

I just let it hang there, unspoken and heavy, like the years we had lost.

Liz must have sensed my mood, because she quickly switched gears, pulling out childhood memories as if they were band-aids to cover the raw wound she had just opened.

She talked about the times we had spent sneaking into the old bakery, the summer we had tried to build a treehouse and failed spectacularly, the way I used to help her with math homework while she made fun of my terrible handwriting.

And, despite myself, I smiled.

Liz always knew exactly how to cheer me up.

She always had.

Maybe that was the difference between her and Alexia.

Liz was effortless.

Alexia was... chaos.

Talking with Liz was so engaging, so easy, that for a moment, I forgot we were even waiting for Alexia in the first place.

Liz had that effect on me—she could make me forget about my current reality and take me back to a time when life was simpler. A time when I didn’t have to deal with contracts, inheritance battles, or a wife who seemed determined to make my blood pressure spike every damn day.

I laughed at her stories, genuinely enjoying myself for the first time in weeks, when suddenly, Tobias called.

Alexia.

The walking headache I had legally tied myself to.

I picked up the phone, expecting to hear that she was finally here, only to have Tobias say something that made my entire body go still.

"Uh... about that, sir. She—um—she went inside. Without you."

...

She what?

I turned my head toward the entrance, my temper spiking instantly.

So, after making me wait for her for almost an hour, after ignoring my calls, after choosing food over actually arriving on time, she just walked in?

Without me?

Without even bothering to let me know?

That infuriating woman!

Liz must have noticed the sudden change in my expression because she tilted her head, concerned.

"Aiden? Everything okay?"

I clenched my jaw and forced a tight smile, but inside, I was seeing red.

"Yeah. My wife just walked in without me."

Liz raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t comment.

Meanwhile, I was already making my way toward the entrance, my frustration boiling over.

Oh, Alexia was going to hear it from me tonight.

And then—because life just loved messing with me—I saw them.

Alexia.

Escorted by the Black brothers.

All four of them.

My so-called friends.

Walking her in like she was some princess.

And Alexia?

She was smiling.

Like she was having the time of her life.

Not a single trace of guilt for being late.

No sign of worry that she had left me waiting.

And damn it, she looked good.

Too good.

The gown. The hair. The way she carried herself.

She didn’t look like the chaotic little brat I had to drag out of bed every morning.

She looked... expensive.

She looked like my wife.

And yet, at that moment, all I could think about was how much I wanted to strangle her.