I was just reaching for the first bit of warmth I could find, dragging her into the same dark I was drowning in.
And she was the one who paid for it. Every bruise, every tear, every broken look, my fault.
“I know,” I whispered, even though she couldn’t hear it.
Not really.
But maybe—maybe if I said it out loud enough times, it’d finally sink in.
“I know you’re not my crutch,” I said again, voice breaking. “You were supposed to be my reason.”
But I ruined that, too.
So I just sat there, phone still in hand, reading her message over and over until the words etched themselves into my bones, because maybe that’s what I deserved.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Aurora / Joshua
Aurora
The weekend crawled by in slow, aching hours. Saturday bled into Sunday without me noticing.
He’d asked me to stay another night, not with words exactly, just this quiet, careful tone that made me too tired to say no.
And maybe I stayed because deep down, I wanted to see if the softness would last. If the man who broke me could really care enough to let me breathe.
But it hurt.
God, it hurt to see him care.
To see him give up the bed for me.
To see him sleep on the floor one night and on the couch the next, like he was punishing himself.
It hurt to know that he could be kind. That under all that anger, there was something good in him. Because it made it harder to hate him.
And I wanted to hate him.
Hating him would’ve been easier.
Cleaner.
So I didn’t look at him when I got up that morning. Didn’t speak. Didn’t dare wake him. I just left a note on the counter, small, folded once.
Thank you.
For letting me rest.
—A
That was all I could manage. Anything more and I would’ve started crying again.
The elevator ride down to my floor felt longer than usual. When the doors opened, everything was quiet. Too quiet.
My apartment smelled like lavender detergent. The air felt stale, like I hadn’t really lived there for a while. I dropped my bag, went straight to bed, and didn’t even bother to change.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Layla, Aly, Jennie. Missed calls stacked on top of each other. Then one from work:FINAL WARNING. Show up tonight, or we’ll have to replace you.
