So, it’s fine. It’s fine.
I turned away, pulling my books tighter against my chest as I walked to my own class, letting my shoes echo softly against the floor. The air outside was chilly, the kind that bit at your cheeks but still felt fresh enough to make you breathe deeper.
Friday wasn’t far. Just three more days.
Three more days until it was the two of us again, maybe with Honey sleeping between us like always, maybe just quiet and easy like before.
I told myself not to worry. That people have bad days. That sometimes things feel colder before they feel warm again.
So I sat down in my seat, pulled out my notebook, and waited for class to start, my mind already skipping forward to Friday, to soft light, to laughter, to him.
Because surely, by then, he’d look at me again the way he always did.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Aurora / Joshua
Aurora
Friday came super quickly. I guess the universe was being kind to me because it knows that I’ve been looking forward to it since Monday.
Joshua had been busy lately, so he would either come back later, around the time I'd fallen asleep already, or be too busy to answer my messages. And that was okay. He was always busy; I didn’t overthink it.
I just hoped he would relax with me today. Me, him and Honey. Just us.
The kitchen smelled of vanilla and cocoa, warm, sweet, and familiar.
The last batch of cookies came out perfectly, a little cracked on top and gooey in the middle, and I couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at my lips as I slid them onto the cooling rack. Red velvet with white chocolate chips, festive, soft, a little pretty.
Maybe too pretty.
I told myself it was just a friendly thing. Just friends. He liked food, and I liked baking. That’s all.
Friends can gift friends on Valentine's Day, right? Jennie and Layla do it, they mentioned.
The cookies looked so good that even I was proud. I placed them carefully in the white box I’d found in my drawer, tied it with a red satin bow, and added a tiny handwritten tag:
“Happy Valentine’s Day from your friend.”
Corny. But sweet.
I stood there staring at the box, my heart doing this stupid little flutter like I was sixteen again and not someone who’d sworn off feelings a long time ago.
It was weird; Valentine’s Day always felt empty before. A reminder of what I didn’t have.
But this year… it didn’t feel lonely.
I checked the time; fifteen minutes early. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I was normally early, anyway.
So I slipped the box into my bag, brushed off the flour on my cardigan, and grabbed my keys.
The elevator ride felt slower than usual, humming softly under the weight of my heartbeat.
Just a few floors up.
A few steps more.
I didn’t know why I was so nervous, like I was carrying something heavier than cookies.
