Page 90 of The Princess and the Fraud

“You didn’t believe in love just because you never experienced it?”

“Oh, no, I believe in it. Margot and Sumner were clear examples for me.” A small smile lifted his lips. “Even Annalise and Michael, as different as they are from each other. The words make sense, I suppose—affection, intimacy, romance. Everyone acts like it’s simple and easy to understand, but it’s like playing ‘Gaspard de la Nuit.’”

I frowned, not recognizing the composition, and Aaron noticed.

“It’s famously difficult. Erratic, fast—horribly hard to master. You can know the notes, read the sheet music, even understand how it’s supposed to sound—but that doesn’t mean you can play it.” He tilted his head to the side a little, eyes still on the road. “That’s what love feels like to me. Everyone else is performing it perfectly, and I’m just… fumbling with the keys.”

He was definitely overthinking it. “No one really understands love?—”

“But you do. At least a little. You know when to hold someone’s hand, or embrace them, or even kiss them. You know what you should say when, what the other person might be feeling in intimate moments.”

“You grabbed my hand,” I pointed out, squeezing his fingers again. “When we got in the car, you held my hand without saying anything.”

Aaron glanced over, as if he’d forgotten where his right hand had been resting entirely. “I suppose I did.”

Annalise had been right when she said Aaron saw things in black and white. He lived his life in absolutes—he’d never felt love, therefore decided that he wasn’t made for it. He didn’t understand love, therefore thought he wasn’t good enough for it. He didn’t get love from his parents, therefore thought he didn’t deserve it. It was such a simplistic way to view such a nuanced thing. It was almost strange how clearly I understood him now, hearing all the things he meant but didn’t say.

I wanted to press more, but going deeper also terrified me. I was afraid of where the conversation could lead. And I didn’t want to push him, not if he wasn’t ready.

“It’s strange to jump,” I mused, cupping his hand with my right hand. His palm was sandwiched between mine, something fluttering low in my stomach. “I sort of feel like I’m free-falling, not sure what will happen next.”

“What do you want to happen next?”

I suppose that was the point, wasn’t it? WhatIwanted. My mind blanked on ideas because it’d been so long since I’d let myself dream anything. The savings account I’d grown over the years now no longer had a purpose. But what would I do? Take myself out to eat? Go shopping? What did Iwant?

I want to play the cello.

The music playing over the car’s stereo stopped, and the screen on the dash signaled an incoming call.Fiona Flannagan.

My stomach sank.

For a beat, neither of us moved, listening to the ring. Aaron withdrew his hand from mine to press theignorebutton, but instead of returning to our grip, he placed his hand back on the wheel. “I’ll call her when I drop you off,” he said, as if he needed to justify the hangup.

It was the perfect segue, if only I could’ve just been brave enough. The words were there, sitting prettily on the tip of my tongue:what are you going to do about Fiona?I stared at my empty hands, knowing it was wrong that I hadn’t clarified yet. I didn’t like Fiona, but I also didn’t like feeling like I was being a man stealer, either.

I curled my hands into fists, forcing myself to bite the bullet. “Aaron?—”

Now, this time, it was my phone that’d begun ringing. I pulled it from my jacket pocket, finding Caroline’s picture grinning back at me. It was a picture of us from before Grant started college, when I was still brunette, and Caroline’s hair was still dark. I quickly flipped it over in my lap. “It’s just Caroline,” I said. “She’ll text if it’s important.”

“You can take it if you need to.”

“I don’t need to.”

Aaron slowed down as we entered Addison’s city limits, flipping on his blinker before I needed to tell him to. “How did you two become friends? You and Caroline?”

I quirked my lips to the side. “We just… did, I guess. When I started dating Grant, we got close.” I looked at him. “Why?”

Aaron paused. “I’ve always been curious. You two seem so different.”

“How so?”

“You just seem so much more… compassionate, I guess.”

I brushed it off. “She’s compassionate.”

“She didn’t call you on your mother’s anniversary. Last June. Outside on the patio. Everyone in your life forgot to reach out to you on the five-year anniversary of your mother’s death.”

“Neither did Annalise, but would you callhera bad friend?”

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