And for a heartbeat, I swore I forgot to breathe.
We just looked at each other.
No words. No apologies. No walls.
Just her eyes on mine, reflecting everything I didn’t know how to say.
Happy.
Sad.
Relieved.
Broken.
Whole.
All of it.
The fireworks roared again, louder this time, and the city below cheered, but it didn’t matter.
She was right here.
Her lips parted, barely moving; her voice quiet under the chaos. “Happy New Year.”
My throat tightened, and I nodded once. “Happy New Year… Aurora.”
Her name felt different in my mouth this time. Softer. Like saying it didn’t hurt anymore.
We just… stayed like that.
Fireworks above us, the city alive beneath us, and silence between us that didn’t feel heavy anymore.
Her eyes never left mine. And I didn’t want them to.
Please don’t let this end when the lights fade.
Chapter Forty-Six
Joshua
January 14th.
Two weeks into the new year, and I already hated how fast time could move when you didn’t want it to.
Every morning had started to look the same: her knocking softly on my door, Honey climbing into her arms before I could even say come in, the sound of quiet laughter that didn’t belong in a place like mine filling the room, anyway.
Breakfasts that stretched too long because she’d get distracted feeding Honey scraps. Late-night conversations where I can’t help but swoon over her tone and accent.
A shared silence that somehow made everything louder.
It was good.
Toogood.
And that’s why I knew it couldn’t last.
I was walking down from my penthouse to grab something from the lobby when I saw her.
