Aurora was everything I’d ever wanted and didn’t even know how to want.
She was quiet, but not empty. Soft, but strong enough to carry every storm that came her way. When she smiled—rare, small, almost shy—it didn’t feel like the world lit up; it felt like I did.
And that terrified me. Because suddenly I was feeling things I didn’t have the language for. Things I didn’t think I was capable of.
Warmth in my chest when she walked into the room. Curiosity when she looked at me like she was trying to understand, not judge. Guilt—deep, ugly guilt—when I made her flinch.
She made me feel.
And I didn’t know how to live with that. Didn’t know how to not destroy the one thing that made me human again.
So I did what I do best… I pushed.
I broke.
I ruined.
And now I’m standing in the aftermath of it, realising too late that the only thing that ever made me feel alive… was the same thing I drove away with my own hands.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aurora
I poked at the food on my tray, trying to look like I was eating so the girls wouldn’t ask.
Didn’t work.
Layla leaned forward, eyebrows drawn. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
Jennie snorted softly. “She’s always quiet.”
“Yeah, but not this quiet,” Aly said, frowning. “Something’s off.”
I glanced up, then back down at my tray again.
The sleeves of Joshua’s jacket were too long, covering half my hands. It still smelled like him, soap and something sharp underneath.
I hated that it made me feel safe.
Jennie reached out, brushing a crumb from my hair. “Your boss give you the night off or something?”
I shook my head slowly.
Wrote the word down on my notepad with my left hand, crooked, uneven letters.
Fired.
The table went silent.
Layla blinked. “Wait—what? Why?!”
I shrugged.
Aly’s mouth opened, ready to curse, but Jennie touched her arm to stop her.
Her eyes softened. “Because of your arm?”
I nodded once.
