Aaron's POV
Aaron can't go home.
The penthouse feels empty. It's always felt empty but today it feels like a tomb. Everything there reminds him of the life he built without Natalie. The expensive furniture. The floor-to-ceiling windows. The minimalist art on the walls. It's all just decoration for a life that means nothing.
He can't go to his office either.
By now James has probably called an emergency meeting. The board is probably panicking about the wedding crash. Investors are probably pulling their money. Blake Enterprises is probably falling apart. But Aaron doesn't care about any of it. The company can burn. His reputation can burn. Everything can burn as long as he has a chance with Natalie.
So he drives to her apartment building.
It's the place where she lives now. Not with him. Not in the penthouse. But in a modest building in Brooklyn that she chose for herself. Aaron has driven past it a thousand times just to feel close to her. Now he actually gets out of the car.
He stands on the sidewalk outside her building and realizes he has no idea what he's doing.
Security won't let him up to her apartment. She won't answer his calls. He doesn't have a plan. He just has desperation and a need to do something. Anything. Something that proves his words weren't just theater.
Aaron pulls out his phone and opens the notes app.
He types. I'M SORRY in big black letters. He takes a screenshot and uses his phone to mirror it. Then he finds cardboard in a nearby dumpster and a marker from his car. He makes a sign. It takes fifteen minutes. It's messy and amateur but it's real.
He stands on the sidewalk holding a sign that says I'M SORRY.
People walk past and stare.
Some of them recognize him. They whisper to their friends and point. Some of them take pictures. Some of them ask him to move. Some of them tell him he should go home. Aaron doesn't respond to any of them. He just stands there holding his sign like a homeless man begging for spare change.
Except he's not begging for money.
He's begging for forgiveness.
An older woman stops and looks at him for a long moment.
"Who hurt you this bad?" she asks.
Aaron looks at her. Really looks at her. She's probably in her seventies. She has kind eyes and she's genuinely asking like she cares about the answer.
"The woman I love," Aaron says. "I hurt her. So badly. And now I'm trying to figure out how to make her understand that I understand what I did."
The woman nods slowly.
"That's good," she says. "The fact that you understand. That's the first step to actually changing."
She walks away and Aaron is alone again with his sign and his regret.
Hours pass.
His arms get tired. His feet get sore. The sun moves across the sky. People come and go. Some people honk. Some people cheer. Some people boo. Some people film. The reactions are split between people who think he's romantic and people who think he's insane.
Aaron doesn't know which one he is anymore.
A homeless man sits down next to him on the curb around hour three.
"You waiting for someone?" the man asks.
"Yeah," Aaron says.
"Is she worth it?" the man asks.
Aaron looks at his sign. I'M SORRY. Three words on a piece of cardboard. Three words that represent three years of pain and regret and the understanding that he made the biggest mistake of his life.
"She's worth everything," Aaron says.
The homeless man nods like this makes perfect sense. Like standing on a street corner with a sign for hours is the most reasonable thing anyone's ever done.
Around hour five, police show up.
Two officers approach Aaron carefully like they're not sure if he's a threat or a victim.
"Sir, you need to move along," one of them says.
Aaron doesn't argue. He knows the rules. You can't just stand on a street corner indefinitely. He knows this will cause problems. He knows the media will have another story to report. But he doesn't care anymore.
He puts down his sign and walks away.
But not before three different people have already photographed him standing there. Not before someone has already posted the image to social media. Not before the story starts spreading.
Aaron walks around the block and sits in a coffee shop to think.
He opens his phone and sees it immediately.
The image is everywhere.
Billionaire Aaron Blake standing on the street outside his ex-wife's apartment building holding a homemade sign that says I'M SORRY. The photo is blurry but his face is clear. His expensive suit is wrinkled. His hair is messy. He looks desperate and broken and completely unhinged.
The posts are spreading fast.
Some people think it's the most romantic thing they've ever seen. Some people think it's creepy stalking behavior. Some people think it's a publicity stunt. Some people think he's having a mental breakdown.
Comments flood in. Thousands of them. Millions of them within an hour.
#BlakeWeddingCrash is trending again.
New hashtags appear. #AaronBlakesGroveling. #RealLove. #MentalHealthCrisis. #CreepyBillionaire. #RomanticHero.
News outlets pick it up immediately.
Business analysts debate whether Aaron's behavior proves he's unstable as a leader. Entertainment blogs call it the most dramatic real-life romance story of the decade. Mental health professionals express concern about his public breakdown. Romance writers start imagining what happens next.
Aaron watches it all unfold from a coffee shop and feels something shift inside him.
He doesn't care.
For the first time in his entire adult life, Aaron Blake doesn't care what the media says. Doesn't care what analysts think. Doesn't care what his company's stock does. Doesn't care if his reputation is completely destroyed.
Because reputation is just another word for a lie.
And he's finally done lying.
His phone buzzes.
A text from James. Aaron, your mother is calling an emergency board meeting. The company is in crisis. You need to respond to this.
Aaron turns his phone off.
Another buzz immediately after.
A text from unknown number. I'm at the window watching you. Why are you out there?
Aaron's heart stops.
He looks up at the apartment building. And there she is. Natalie stands in a window on the third floor looking down at him. She's still wearing her wedding dress. His breath catches in his throat.
She's still wearing the wedding dress.
Aaron stands up so fast he knocks over his coffee. He doesn't care. He walks out of the coffee shop and stands on the sidewalk looking up at her window.
Natalie looks down at him.
Neither of them moves.
Then Natalie disappears from the window.
Aaron's heart sinks. She's leaving. She's going back inside and he's lost his chance. He's going to have to find another way to reach her. He's going to have to keep standing on sidewalks with signs until she finally listens.
But then the apartment building door opens.
Natalie walks out onto the street still wearing her wedding dress.
She walks toward Aaron slowly. Like she's moving through water. Like this might be a dream and she's afraid it will disappear if she moves too fast.
When she reaches him she doesn't say anything.
She just stands there in front of him. The woman he destroyed. The woman who built herself back up. The woman he crashed a wedding for. The woman who stopped her own wedding to give him five minutes.
"I saw you standing out here," Natalie says quietly. "With your sign."
"I had to try," Aaron says. "I had to do something to show you that I'm not just words. That I'm willing to stand in front of everyone looking like a fool if it means you know how serious I am."
Natalie's eyes fill with tears.
"Do you have any idea how crazy you look right now?" she asks.
"Yes," Aaron says. "I don't care."
"The internet is calling you insane," Natalie says.
"I know," Aaron says.
"You're destroying your company," Natalie says.
"I know," Aaron says.
"You're destroying your reputation," Natalie says.
"I know," Aaron says.
Natalie looks at him for a long moment. At this man who stands on streets with homemade signs. At this billionaire who chose to look insane rather than pretend everything was fine. At this person who finally understands that some things matter more than success.
"I stopped my wedding for you," Natalie says finally.
"I know," Aaron says.
"I don't know what that means yet," Natalie says.
"I know," Aaron says. "I just needed you to know that I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'm going to stand on this street for as long as it takes for you to believe that I've changed."
Natalie reaches out and takes the sign from his hands.
She looks at it. I'M SORRY written in black marker on a piece of cardboard. Three words that represent everything.
"Can we talk?" Natalie asks.
"Yes," Aaron says immediately. "Anywhere. Anytime. For however long you need."
They stand on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Natalie in her wedding dress. Aaron in his wrinkled suit. And the cameras keep snapping. The posts keep spreading. The hashtags keep trending.
But Aaron doesn't care about any of it.
Because for the first time since he signed those divorce papers three years ago, he's actually standing here with Natalie.
And maybe, just maybe, there's a chance.