Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 258

There was also a fierce, burning curiosity beneath my anger—a desperate need to understand what on earth he thought he could possibly bring to the table now.

I exhaled slowly, the breath sharp and deliberate.

“Fine.” My fingers clenched tighter around the edge of the doorframe. “Say whatever it is you need to say. Then get the hell out of here.”

Micah stepped inside cautiously, only far enough to let the door swing shut behind him. He didn’t try to close the distance between us. Instead, he held himself stiffly, like someone standing too close to a wild animal, fully aware that one wrong move could get him torn apart.

“What you saw the other night,” he started, his voice steady but lacking confidence, “it wasn’t what you think.”

I let out a bitter, broken laugh—harsh and ugly.

“Oh my God.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Did he send you? Seriously? Did he send you here to—what? To smooth things over? To make me feel like an idiot? To remind me I was never enough? Or is this just you, trying to make yourself feel better for crawling into his bed?”

Micah flinched sharply. Real pain—not guilt put on for show—flickered across his features.

“He didn’t send me,” Micah said quietly. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

I remained frozen, not blinking, just staring.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Micah continued, “Look… Aiden and I don’t have anything. Not now. Maybe we never did. I love him—yeah, I always have. I won’t pretend that isn’t true.” He held my gaze, refusing to look away despite the shame that lingered in his eyes. “But he never loved me the way I wanted. And he never loved me the way he loves you.”

My jaw clenched tightly. A tightness squeezed my throat, but I kept silent.

“I know you want to hate me,” he said softly. “I wanted to hate you too. But what you and Aiden have? It’s different. I thought what he and I had was everything, but he kept parts of himself locked away from me. He doesn’t do that with you.”

I let out a short, bitter breath. “No, he just cheats on me with you.”

“No,” Micah corrected quietly. “I was the one in his bed that night. Not him with me—me with him.”

My hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening.

“He didn’t ask me to come in,” Micah pressed on. “He sent me to the guest room. I was the one who went to him. I was drunk, stupid, selfish, and I—” His voice cracked for the first time. “I crawled into his bed.”

My voice came out low and raw. “And if I don’t want to go back?”

Micah gave the smallest, saddest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Then that’s your choice. And it’ll be real. You’ll move on. And eventually, so will he.”

But I wouldn’t.

“But you don’t get to let go because of me.”

The silence stretched between us—thick and heavy, almost breathing on its own.

“Just… let him talk to you,” Micah finished softly. “You don’t have to take him back. Just don’t end it on a lie neither of you deserve.”

And in that moment, something inside me stirred—I was alive again.