Chapter 194

Aria’s POV

The question blindsided me, and I had no idea how to answer it. How did William know Liam and I were having troubles? We’d tried so hard not to fight in front of them anymore. And even though we’d been distant with each other, we always tried to be friendly when the kids were around.

But I remembered how in the past, both boys were very observant. As much as Liam and I tried to hide our problems, William and Joe were always watching. With the slightest slip, they probably saw straight through the façade Liam and I had tried to keep up for them.

Knowing that, it seemed futile to try to lie my way out of this. William was a smart kid, as was Joe. They would both know if I was lying. To try to help William understand, I needed to be as honest as I dared to be.

“Liam and I are having a rough patch, it’s true,” I said. “But that happens with mommies and daddies sometimes. We are different people with different ideas about things. Sometimes those ideas don’t always go together very well.”

The light turned green, so I pressed on the accelerator. Driving again, I couldn’t check on William in the rear-view mirror to gauge his reaction. I could only hope that he understood what I was trying to tell him.

“But just because two people don’t always get along, and they have these arguments like your dad and I do, that doesn’t mean that they stop caring about each other, okay? I still care about your dad a great deal, and he cares about me too.”

“So stop fighting,” William said.

If only it was that simple. “It’s not that easy, William. I’m sorry. I wish it was.”

“So you are getting divorced?”

“No. No, I have no plans on divorcing your father.”

What he wanted to do with me was another matter. If Joanna was telling the truth and she and Liam were having an affair, then I supposed he would want to divorce me.

But until I had undeniable proof of that occurring, I wasn’t going to make assumptions. Joanna was not a reliable source, even with those texts, and there could be many explanations for what Jackson could have seen in that office.

“You don’t have to worry about anything, okay? Your dad and I still care about each other, and we both love you very much.”

That last part I could at least say with confidence, even if I wasn’t as sure with the rest.

“Okay…” William said, voice slightly flat. He sounded like he didn’t really believe me, but I didn’t know what else I could say.

Especially because I wasn’t so sure that a divorce really wasn’t in the cards for Liam and me.

Everything hinged on what was said on Sunday, when we finally would have the time to fully talk about everything. At least we would, if Liam kept to his promise.

That night, I invited Isabelle over. While the kids worked on their homework in the living room, Isabella joined me in the kitchen to talk while we made dinner.

The first thing I did was show her the invitation and explain all that I knew – and didn’t know – about it.

“Markus could be lying,” Isabelle said.

“I thought that too,” I said. “I also toyed with the idea of Joanna setting it up, but Anthony’s description of the delivery man sounds exactly like Markus’s butler. And the butler wouldn’t act without Markus’s say so.”

“Well, okay. Let’s backtrack. Regardless of who sent this, it’s suspicious as all hell. There’s no name, no return address, not even a hint what the event actually is.”

“It’s at a high society ballroom,” I said. “A place always rented out for functions.”

“Somewhere public?”

“It’s downtown,” I said. “I doubt they let just anyone through their doors.”

Isabelle frowned slightly, turning the invitation over in her hands.

“I’ve been thinking about the worst that could happen,” I said. “If it is some kind of set-up, they might be trying to put me in a situation to compromise my reputation. Liam just gave me my job back, so someone could want to see that promotion disappear again, although… no. I only got my job back today, and I’ve had the invitation.”

“Something like this would take at least a couple of days to organize, and if they have to set you up somehow, it probably will take longer.”

I turned toward the vegetables I was chopping. Isabelle set aside the invitation.

“Does this place have many windows?” she asked me.

“It does.”

“So… theoretically, you wouldn’t even have to go into the place.”

I blinked, realizing. “No, I guess not.”

“You could just stand on the sidewalk and look in to see what was going on. And if it looks shady as hell, you can bail out. It’s not a surprise party, though, at least not one I know about. I’d tell you if I was invited.”

“I believe you.” Isabelle wouldn’t lie about a thing like that, not even in an effort to save the surprise. Since I was this worried about it, she would spill the beans in a heartbeat. “I wouldn’t care at all if…” I glanced behind me, very conscious of the two curious ears who could be listening.

Lowering my voice, I step nearer to Isabelle. “Liam has that work event the same night. He hasn’t told me a thing about it. If he wasn’t being so suspicious, maybe I wouldn’t have to worry.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened. “You think this invitation is connected to that?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Markus denies being responsible, but I just have a bad feeling. About all of this. And I don’t know how to make myself feel better. Hiding my head in the sand isn’t going to solve anything. I don’t want to go, but I think I have to.”

“You can stand outside,” Isabelle said again. “You don’t have to go in.”

“I don’t.”

Isabelle nodded. For a little while we continued prepping dinner without much talking. Then, in the quiet, Isabelle asked, “What will you do if it is the same event? If Liam is there. How will you react?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on what it is, doesn’t it?”

“It could be nothing,” Isabelle said. “Maybe it is a work event, just like a really swanky one.”

“Then why send me an invitation?” I asked. Everything about this just prompted more questions than it solved. “Why make it sound like I’ll be seeing something scandalous?”

“Someone could just be messing with you,” Isabelle said. “It could all be a big joke.”

Honestly, I hoped that was the case. I’d rather be the butt of a joke than the alternative – Liam was up to something nefarious or scandalous that he didn’t want me to know about.

For him to not want to tell me about everything until Sunday made me even more suspicious. Was his plan to beg for forgiveness, rather than to ask for permission ahead of time?

“I have to know for sure,” I said. “I have to see whatever it is for myself.”

Isabelle looked at me. “Then I guess I’m babysitting Saturday night.”