Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 296

Aria's POV

As I sat perched on top of the cemetery wall, something about this moment felt strangely familiar. The moonlight, the darkness, even the way Aiden stood below with his arms outstretched—it triggered something deep in my memory that I couldn't quite place.

"Having second thoughts?" Aiden called up, a hint of teasing in his voice.

I snapped back to reality and positioned myself at the edge. Without overthinking it, I pushed off and let myself fall into his waiting arms. The sensation of falling was brief—his strong arms caught me effortlessly, securing me against his chest. The familiar scent of his cologne—sandalwood with subtle hints of cedar—enveloped me immediately.

I found myself staring up at his face, studying the sharp angles illuminated by moonlight. A strange feeling of déjà vu washed over me.

"Aiden," I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, "have we met before? Before all this, I mean?"

I watched as his eyelashes fluttered slightly—a tiny reaction most people would miss. His arms tightened around me almost imperceptibly, and he adjusted his hold with a small bounce that pressed me closer against his chest.

"What do you think?" he answered, his voice low and intimate.

I searched his features, trying to trigger any memory. Those penetrating eyes, the defined jawline, those lips that could shift from stern to gentle in a heartbeat—surely I'd remember a face like that.

"Probably not," I finally admitted, disappointed by my own conclusion. "With a face like yours, there's no way I'd forget meeting you."

He made a small sound—something between amusement and... was that disappointment? Before I could analyze it further, he crouched down with me still in his arms, retrieving my heels that I'd tossed over earlier.

The intimacy of what happened next caught me completely off guard. Still holding me with one arm, he took my bare foot in his hand. His palm felt warm against my heel as he carefully guided my foot into the shoe. When his fingers accidentally brushed against the side of my foot, I involuntarily jerked back—my feet had always been ridiculously ticklish.

"Did I hurt you?" Concern flashed across his face as he paused.

"No, just ticklish," I mumbled, feeling heat rise to my face.

He nodded and finished securing both shoes before gently setting me down. "Any scratches or cuts?"

I wiggled my toes inside the heels and looked down at my feet. "No, I'm fine."

The night air felt cool against my burning ears, and I was grateful for the darkness that hid my flushed face. Something about his tenderness made my heart race in a way that confused me. This was supposed to be a marriage of convenience—not whatever was happening right now.

To break the awkward moment, I reached for his hand. "Where's your godmother's grave?"

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