She turned, those soft brown eyes finding me, and suddenly the air didn’t feel so cold anymore.
Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she smiled. “Are you busy this Friday?”
I blinked. “Friday?”
She nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Um… are you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Never busy for you.”
Her brows lifted slightly, cheeks tinting pink. I realised what I’d just said and cleared my throat, trying to play it off.
She hesitated, fumbling with the corner of her sleeve. “Do you… have a girl?”
That threw me off. “A girl?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Friday’s…Valentine’s Day. I didn’t want to—I mean, I don’t want to take you away from someone if you already—”
I couldn’t help it, a small laugh escaped me, half disbelief, half something softer. “No,” I said. “No girl.”
“Oh.” Her voice was small, almost as if she didn’t believe me.
“Why?” I asked, watching her carefully.
She shifted, eyes flicking up to mine before darting away. “I just thought… maybe we could hang out. With Honey. If that’s okay.”
Honey.
Of course.
Always the kitten. Always something safe for her to hide behind. Still, I smiled genuinely this time. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’d like that.”
She looked up again, and there it was: that spark. That tiny flicker in her eyes made me feel like I’d done something right.
“Friday then,” I added, turning slightly so she wouldn’t see how much I was smiling.
“Friday,” she repeated, nodding softly, fingers tapping against her thigh as if she were trying to calm herself down.
I turned away, that little, stupid warmth in my chest still lingering, that feeling she always managed to leave me with. But the second I started walking off, it died fast.
Because there they were.
Aly and Jennie, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
And Layla, who didn’t even bother looking at me. Her eyes went straight past me…to her.
Aurora.
The way they all moved—protective, immediate—told me everything.
Aly took a step forward first. “You need to quit it, Lockhart.”
Jennie joined in, her tone biting. “You’ve done enough damage. Emotionally, physically—” she gestured at me like I was something foul, “and you still have the nerve to stay near her?”
I swallowed the urge to defend myself; to tell them they didn’t know the whole story. Because what could I say? That I was trying to make it right? That I’d changed?
People don’t believe in apologies from the monster that caused the scar.
Aly stepped closer. “You broke her. Do you get that? You broke her. And now you think hanging around her fixes anything?”
