Author's Notes: Special thanks to supergirls2008 for some additional tips!

For all of you that wanted to hear from Aspen...well, here you go!

Enjoy!

~Sweetwaterspice

Sweet Surrender

The Eye of the Beholder

~Aspen

I was conflicted.

I knew my words. I had repeated them to myself so often – in my waking hours, during the dark of night. In my thoughts. In my dreams…

"I'll always care for you but…I don't love you anymore."

Those had been my words to her.

Words I was beginning to regret ever mouthing, ever speaking.

Everyone thought it was so damn easy for me just to give her away.

To him.

It wasn't.

Walking her down that aisle on that God-forsaken day was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. I would've rather walked a barren wasteland or better yet, been shipped to New Asia. But she'd asked. How could I have ever told her, no? I couldn't. After admitting that there was nothing but friendship between us, what excuse did I have? Absolutely none.

Shalom was gone, Kota was unfit according to America and I was now family.

I was in agony. But the ache I felt wasn't the shooting pain in my leg. No. My heart broke piece by piece with each hobbled step I took down the aisle next to her. Each step that brought her closer to him and away from me…forever. It all felt so wrong. I should have been the one she should be walking towards, not him.

I put on a brave face and smiled. It was a happy day for everyone. Except for me.

She looked beautiful, so beautiful. And she looked happy and hopeful. Once upon a time that look was showered on me. I didn't appreciate it then. I didn't treasure it. Her eyes beamed with love; a love that had belonged to me at one time. A love that now she held only for him.

My heart trickled with envy.

I despised him.

But, why should I? It wasn't his fault, after all. It was all mine.

I had cast her aside – our love, our future, our plans. Everything.

I think about the treehouse often, once our safe haven, our sacred place where we had shared so many things. The private moments we had, filled with tender kisses and warm caresses, the fears we held, and the hopes we entertained, all contained within the walls of that wooden structure. I close my eyes and I can still feel her fingers playing in my hair as she sang to me with the voice of a siren all for but a penny. I didn't realize their worth in her eyes. Each one was special. Each one reminded her of me...of us. I was rich beyond my own expectations. But, I was too blind to see that our worth was much more than merely a designated number.

I still kept the pennies she'd shoved into my hand the day before she left Carolina. They still waited back home on my nightstand for the day we would return and get married. That had been the plan anyway. How things had changed. Now, when I think back to that night in the treehouse, I wish I could turn back the hands of time; do it all over again.

I remember that night feeling so overwhelmed. I allowed my pride to consume me and I shut the door to myself from her, no...I slammed it on her and had left her heart bleeding right there in that treehouse.

I forsook her, leaving her alone and broken, handing her willingly to another, her tender heart open for another to heal.

And he took it.

As much as I tried to win it back, once the roots of his affections buried themselves deeper, wrapped themselves around her tender, vulnerable heart it was near impossible and once he had her heart – wide, open, welcoming, firmly in his grasps; I was done. Game over.

After the wedding, I got slammed drunk. I had lost. I had lost America, forever. My heart withered. I knew I shouldn't have felt that way but two years of us was now a memory in the past, a chapter now closed. With every swig of liquor I downed, I tried to quiet the voices in my head.

'You've lost her...for good.'

'America belongs to him now, Aspen.'

'Mrs. Schreave...'

"She will give herself to him, you know that, right?'

'He will claim her tonight, bed her, make love to her...'

'...and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop him.'

It was enough to drive me crazy.

I had lied to Lucy as to why I had left the reception so early on. I couldn't bear to watch how happy they were. How in love he looked when he gazed at her. How totally swept away she looked as he danced with her in front of all their smiling guests.

I had swallowed my pride enough to make good on my word to give her away but I didn't have to stand there and watch. So I left.

And now, here I was again…watching.

I watched them as they walked to the garden. America snuggled close to his side, his arm draped protectively around her. They stopped. And kissed. It was a punch in the gut. Why was I feeling like Maxon had robbed me of my heart?

"I'll always care for you but…I don't love you anymore."

Those had been my words.

Those damned words I uttered.

And then there was Lucy.

Sweet Lucy.

How had I come to this? I was a man torn in two.

Had I led Lucy on? Had I poured on to her my affections to hide my hurt? To distract myself from the fact I was about to lose America to Maxon?

I wasn't sure or was I?

All the time while I had tried convincing America how wrong Maxon was for her, how he pretended to care, how he wore a mask to deceive and trick; how I told her she wasn't fit to be princess because she wasn't a hypocrite like them, all the pleading, the hidden kisses and embraces, the sneaking around to quiet, dark places – I had Lucy standing stage right.

What the hell was I doing?

I felt like a con-man myself. Here I was trying to convince America what a two-faced liar Maxon was and I fared no better. How could I put myself on a pedestal? At least she knew he was dating others. But she didn't know about my secret – Lucy.

While I was speaking sweet nothings into Lucy's ears, I was desperately holding on to America.

And worse yet, Lucy had no idea about America. How deep my feelings ran. What history we shared. Not until Kota, that jackass, blurted out our well-kept secret for the world to know, had I been exposed to Lucy. I saw the hurt in her eyes.

Hypocrite.

After the wedding, I should've married Lucy but I hadn't. It felt so final if I did. So final. So I held off.

I used Lucy's father's illness as an excuse not to commit. Everyone expected me to commit. I couldn't. Something inside me wouldn't let me.

My heart. My heart still yearned for America. Her kiss. Her warmth. Her honey-laced voice.

Those privileges were not reserved for me any longer. They were his. I would never feel the softness of those lips nor the gentle caresses of her hands on me ever again. The warmth of her body snuggled next to mine – damn! Her sweet voice telling me how much she loved me.

Gone.

All gone.

There she was again. Walking away with him. I couldn't let my mind go there; to ponder on their intimate moments together. It nearly destroyed me the first time I saw them so close and so very personal in her room; how cocky, self-assured he looked as he straddled her on her bed, half-naked. I was in shock and had tried erasing those images from my mind but they are forever branded in my memory. I had never seen America like that, undressed to almost nothing and there he was enjoying himself, in his underwear! Of course he could get away having his way with her; he was the crowned Prince! I only imagined his hands all over her, his mouth on her body and the thought of America allowing him such liberties; liberties she had never granted me! I can still feel the rage in my blood! And now as I look at them, I wrestle with myself not to dwell on intimate things about America I would never, ever know. Her nakedness, her heat, her mouth, my mouth on secret, private places.

And then there is Lucy.

Sweet Lucy.

She deserved better than me.

I loved Lucy. I did. I told myself. Convinced myself. But I could never love her the way I loved America. I could never love anyone for as long as I lived the way I loved America.

America had no such difficulty. She loved her husband, that's what she'd said. It was so easy for her to move on from me. She stood there holding that knife to my heart, plunging it further, deeper, twisting it mercilessly.

I wanted to convince her it could be like old times. "Like old times, Mer," I planned on telling her. I never got that far. Stupidly, I touched her. My fingers gently skimming down her arm. God, she felt amazing. And with a look that I never thought I would see her give me, that knife – the words, the disgust in her eyes, the fright – I was damned. Rejected!

I should've been smarter like I always had been. More calculating. I realized what I had done. I had crossed that line in the real world; a line I had crossed many times in my fantasies but with a different, more pleasurable result. But this wasn't a fantasy. It was reality.

All I did now was to stare at the face of that reality in defeat. She was with him and she would always be.

She told me we would forget it ever happened. I was grateful. I apologized for my indiscretion and took my leave when she dismissed me...like a damned servant.

I couldn't blame her after all.

I had let her slip away.

It was my fault.

It was my own, damn fault.

But it was too much of a burden to carry alone so I began to blame her because it made me feel better. I wanted to make her miserable for what she had done to me. I wanted her to feel my pain. I knew she wanted to fix things but I wasn't ready for that yet. I couldn't open myself up to her. I couldn't let her see my weakness. And now we stood on an empasse. She had obviously moved on and so I had to.

"Aspen?"

I turned to see Lucy.

"Hey, darling," I put on my best smile. "What brings you down here? I thought you were feeling a bit ill this morning."

"Just a headache. It's better now."

I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her forehead. "Glad to hear it."

"What were you doing just standing there?"

I swallowed. She didn't want to know. "Just thinking."

"Thinking? What about?" she chuckled, sweetly.

"About the future."

"The future?"

"Yes, darling. The future. Our future."

"I like the sound of that," she smiled at me sweetly.

"Me too."

The End

So we finally got to hear from Aspen. What did you think?

Post your thoughts, a review, PM, fave or follow!

Thanks for all of your reviews! Members that post will always get a personal PM from me. Guest Reviewers, I encourage you to share your thoughts too!

Here are some shout-outs for you Guest Reviewers!

*sparklynart: Your reviews make me smile! As far as my age, I will only say that but I am old enough to write (M) rated subject matters ;-)

*Guest Reviewer: I love how Maxon and America are not shy about expressing their love for each other! And regarding OneShots - still thinking about it. I have other stories on the back-burner...(Warner) and my new Selection story coming up. I had a Guest Reviewer ask for a Maxon POV on "At Last" which I am highly considering writing!

Readers, if you would like to read that...you all know what to do...PM or post here :)

Don't forget to read the Author's Notes section in my story "At Last" for further thoughts on this chapter and a little summary as to what I have planned for my next story.

Unfortunately sneak previews are going away. I didn't hear back from many of you that wanted these to continue so I won't be posting them unless I hear from you guys.

Stay tuned for my next story! It's a good one!