Chapter 52
The tension between us made the silence almost unbearable. Aurora walked toward the shelves again, and I tilted my head when I heard a soft mechanical hum. After a moment, the panel shifted, revealing a concealed dressmaking room hidden behind it.
Aurora glanced over her shoulder at me, a subtle nod following. "Want to see the test fabrics? I've got some samples displayed inside." She gestured toward the room.
I didn't respond, but I followed her inside. A single mannequin stood at the center, surrounded by several others draped in test fabrics. But it was the one in the middle that caught my eye—the centerpiece.
"Feel free to look at the dresses," Aurora urged.
I turned to look at her. She leaned back against the desk, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed on me.
A lump formed in my throat as I moved through the room, fingers brushing against the fabrics. Each one felt different—delicate, deliberate, intimate. Before I could look at all of them, I stopped in front of the centerpiece.
Something about it pulled me in, like it had always been meant for me.
"Do you like it?"
I jolted, startled by her voice beside me. I hadn't noticed her move closer. Clearing my throat, I looked at the dress again. "No," I muttered, turning away as if to look at the others.
"I made it for you."
Her words froze me in place. I swallowed hard and turned back to her, raising a brow. Our eyes met. She made it for me? Why?
"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "Why would you make something like that for me? It's not like you ever loved me—"
"I sketched it while we were still together," she cut in softly, her tone steady but weighted. "I finished the test fabric the month we broke up—no, the month I broke up with you."
Aurora didn't look away. Her gaze lingered on the gown, and mine followed. I was speechless. Why would she make me a wedding dress? She told me herself that I was just a game to her.
My chest tightened, but I didn't move. I looked at the gown again, stepping closer to take in its design. It was painfully beautiful—crafted with precision, shaped as if she had studied every line of my body.
My fingers traced the fabric again. Even if this was only the test version, I could already see the full design in my mind. I didn't understand... why would she make something so intimate for me?
"I know it sounds ridiculous," she said quietly.
I stayed silent, my eyes still on the gown.
"But I imagined you walking down the aisle in this," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I could never release it as part of my collection. So... if you want it, Sol," her gaze softened, "I'd want you to wear it."
My vision blurred as I blinked away the tears threatening to fall. I held my breath, forcing myself to stay calm. If she truly saw me as a game, then why would she imagine me walking down the aisle wearing the gown she made?
What really happened to us, Ro? Why did you leave me—really? The question burned on my tongue, but I swallowed it. For all I knew, this could be another one of her tricks—bait to make me a fool again.
"Well, if it's not to your liking—"
"Can you make it?" I cut in. I couldn't deny it—the design was beautiful. Majestic, even, if I allowed myself to admit it.
"Pardon?"
I sighed, finally turning to face her. "The gown. Can you finish it before the wedding?"
Aurora's face lit up as if she'd been waiting for me to ask. "I... are you—"
"If you can make it, then fine. I'll wear it." I shrugged, feigning indifference. But inside, a small part of me softened at the sight of her—how her whole face brightened, like something dormant in her had finally come alive.
"I can," she said, her cheeks flushed with color. "I just need your measurements."
She hurried back to her desk, grabbing a notebook, a pen, and a measuring tape.
A soft chuckle escaped me as she returned, pen tucked behind her ear. "Mind if I take your stats?"
I shook my head, giving her a faint smile. She nodded and stepped closer, wrapping the tape gently around my bust, jotting the numbers down, then moving to my waist, my neckline, my shoulders.
The closeness made me swallow hard. My chest tightened every time her fingers brushed my skin. I looked anywhere but at her, afraid she'd see how flustered I was. I stood still, obedient, shifting only when she asked me to.
"There," she murmured at last, rolling the tape back up. She walked to her desk, set her things aside, and turned back to me. "I'll get the fabric tomorrow and start working on it right away. Do you want any custom touches? Additional details?"
Looking at her, I didn't understand why my heart ached the way it did—why I suddenly wanted to close the distance between us and just hold her.
I drew a sharp breath, pressing my lips together before shaking my head.
"That'll be fine," I muttered, my gaze drifting back to the gown.
Walking beside her, I forced a small smile. "Now that the dress is settled," I said, stopping in front of her, "you'll need your suit. Unless you've already sketched something."
Aurora hummed, glancing at her hands. "I've got a few designs."
I nodded toward the gown. "Make something that complements this. If you already have one in mind, then go with it. It's not just my wedding—it's yours too."
She gave a dry laugh, exhaling heavily. "Funny, isn't it? We're planning a wedding, but there's no love in this. We don't even act like a couple—yet here we are, playing the part."
Something in her words cut deep, like a blade slipping beneath the ribs. Once, I had imagined tying the knot with her for real. I clicked my tongue, tilting my head.
"Oh, I know," I said softly.
"It must be tragic for you—tangled up with your ex after twelve years.
But you don't have a choice. We signed a no-divorce clause.
" I smirked, pressing a hand to her shoulder.
"And you've always been great at pretending.
I'm sure you'll pull off the role of the perfect wife just fine. "
My gaze locked with hers, sharp and unyielding. "You fooled me once into believing what we had was special. So how hard could it be to pretend we're happy in each other's arms?" My voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "Easy."
Aurora looked at me.
"Pretend we're happy," she echoed, scoffing under her breath.
Before I could respond, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me against her.
I gasped at the sudden closeness. "Then tell me, Sol—does that pretending extend to being intimate with you? "
I shoved her back, hard.
But instead of getting angry, she laughed softly, raising her hands in mock surrender.
"Easy, Sol. I'm just asking, does our pretend marriage come with pretend intimacy?
Or would you prefer I test my luck with someone else?
Somehow, I don't think you'd like that."
Her words hit like a spark to dry tinder. Someone else?
My jaw tightened as I raised my hand to slap her, but she caught my wrist midair and yanked me close again. Our faces hovered inches apart, her breath ghosting against my lips.
"You're shameless, Aurora," I hissed through clenched teeth, my voice trembling with restrained fury. "Proving again that what we had was nothing but a game to you."
Her expression darkened.
The faint humor in her eyes vanished, replaced by something colder, deeper.
She let out a low, humorless laugh that made my stomach twist. I swallowed hard, instinctively bracing myself.
For a moment, I thought she might snap—her anger was palpable, humming just beneath the surface, but instead, she drew in a long breath and released my wrist.
When our eyes met again, there was fire behind hers... and regret.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, so softly I almost didn't hear it. Then she took a slow step back, her voice steadier when she added, "Anyway, it's getting late." She turned away, walking toward the door.
I took a hesitant step after her, my hand twitching at my side. I wanted to reach out—to stop her, to demand more—but I froze.
Wasn't this what I wanted? To keep pushing her until she broke? Until she felt something again?
So why did her retreat feel like a defeat of my own making?
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Flipping through page after page, I sighed and rubbed my temple, leaning back in my chair. My focus broke when I noticed a cup of warm tea on my desk. I glanced up to see Millie standing there, offering a faint nod.
"Thank you, Millie," I said, reaching for the cup. I took a sip before realizing she had settled into the chair across from me, her eyes quietly studying me.
I put the cup down. "Do you have something to say?"
She shrugged, exhaling softly. "Not to pry into whatever business you've got going on... but as your sister-in-law," she began carefully, "are you sure you want to marry her?"
I straightened, my gaze drifting to the photos of the wedding venue scattered across my desk. "Dione wanted this, Millie. She's been begging me to marry her other mother ever since she found out Aurora was also hers."
Millie leaned forward, her tone gentler. "But what about you? Do you want to tie the knot with her? Soeren's been thinking about stepping in—he's worried. He doesn't think all this will be worth it."
I picked up one of the photos, tracing its edge with my thumb.
"We broke up twelve years ago," I said quietly.
"Aurora ended things back then." My voice faltered for a moment before I managed a faint smile.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to marry her.
Somewhere deep down, I still want what we had to come back—even if it's just a fa?ade.
I just... want to see her beside me again. "
Millie looked at me for a long moment, the kind of silence that made me wish I could disappear into the floor.
Then she nodded. "Well, it's your decision in the end.
I just hope Ms. DeLacroix treats you fairly, even if you're forcing her into this marriage. " She chuckled softly.
"I know her, Millie," I murmured, placing the photo back on the table. Meeting her eyes, I smiled faintly. "I know Aurora more than anyone. She's not cruel. That's why I still don't understand why she used me—or if she really did. Because..."
"Because she hasn't been with anyone else since you," Millie finished for me, smiling knowingly. "I wonder how she'll react when she finds out she left you with a daughter."
A knot formed in my throat. "I don't know," I admitted. "And right now, I have no idea how to even tell her."
Millie hummed, standing from her seat. "Well, I just wanted to check on you. Boss or not, you're still family." She smiled before turning toward the door.
"Millie," I called before she could leave. She glanced over her shoulder. I managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."
She nodded and slipped out of the room.
The silence that followed left me alone with my thoughts. What would her reaction be if she knew we had a child together?
I was still trying to imagine it when my phone rang. The name flashing on the screen made my breath catch. Aurora.
I sighed and picked up. "Hey, Ro." I leaned back in my chair, turning toward the glass window overlooking the horizon.
"Hey," came her voice, soft and uncertain. "Thanks for taking my call. I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
"Not at all," I murmured. "What's up? Need something?"
"Well..
." I heard her hesitate, a sigh slipping through the line.
"I was wondering if you're free this afternoon.
If you're not too busy, I'd like to show you a luxury house I've been looking at—for our future home.
But... if we're not actually going to live together, that's fine too. "
I blinked, staring at the phone for a moment before pressing it back to my ear. A house for the two of us? I hadn't even thought that far. I assumed we'd live separately, each clinging to our own walls and ghosts.
"Sol? You still there?" Aurora's voice pulled me back.
Clearing my throat, I let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, I'm here. I'm free this afternoon. I can make time to see this 'luxury house' of yours."
I paused, smiling despite myself. "Just pick me up after lunch."
My free hand rested on my chest, patting it lightly as I leaned back against the chair and shut my eyes. She's really going this far? Is this a show-off?
"Actually, do you have a meeting around lunch?"
Her question made me glance at my wristwatch. I hummed. "No, I don't. I was planning to have lunch early, though. Why?"
Although truthfully, I hadn't planned to eat lunch at all. I shrugged to myself, sitting up straighter as I turned back toward my desk—only to find Soeren standing across it, making me almost jump out of my chair.
He raised a brow, pointing at my phone and mouthing, Aurora? I rolled my eyes at him and waved a hand dismissively.
"Can we have lunch together? I can pick you up now if you'd like."
I paused, blinking to myself.
Soeren crossed his arms, watching me. I avoided his gaze and chuckled softly at Aurora's words. "Suit yourself. Call me when you're here," I said, ending the call before she could even respond.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, hovering my finger over my phone to type a message for Aurora: Don't be late. I hate waiting.
"Is that your fiancée?" Soeren teased, tilting his head.
"And so what if it's Aurora?" I said as casually as I could, grabbing my laptop mouse and pretending to scroll through nonsense just to avoid his stare.
"Aren't you coming with us for lunch? Millie and I were going some—"
"Aurora asked me to have lunch together," I blurted out so fast it almost sounded like I was rapping.
Soeren scoffed, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down. "Wow. Is that a date?"
I met his gaze with a glare. "Shut the fuck up, will you? It's just lunch."
He hummed, nodding, his lips twitching. "Just lunch, huh? Then why does your face look like you're about to have your first date with your crush?"
I snatched a piece of paper off my desk, crumpled it, and threw it at his face. "Shut the fuck up!" I hissed, groaning. My face burned—hot and traitorous. Fuck it.
Soeren just giggled and shook his head. "Well, I think I'll leave you with her then. Have a great date with your ex—who's now your fiancée—and your soon-to-be wife, sis."
I groaned and rolled my eyes, glaring at him. This idiot.
Not long after, a message from Aurora popped up: she was already outside.
I raised a brow as I stood up. "Why didn't she come up instead?" I muttered, shrugging as I grabbed my bag and left my office. Heading straight to the elevator, I pressed the button for the lobby.
Humming to myself, I caught my reflection in the steel doors. I tucked my hair behind my ears just as the elevator chimed. Stepping out, I made my way through the lobby and out of the building.
There she was—leaning against her car, arms crossed. I walked toward her as she straightened up.
"You should've come inside instead of waiting out here," I said, shrugging as my eyes trailed over her outfit.
When I looked at her face, I noticed how glassy her eyes were. Was she crying? I was about to ask, but she beat me to it.
"Well... I didn't want to cause a scene inside your building, you know."
I couldn't help it—my brow arched, lips twitching as I let out a small chuckle. "What? Still think you're in your prime?" I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.
Of course, she was still well-known for her craft. She was a DeLacroix, after all—the living embodiment of haute couture itself.
She smiled at me but didn't say anything. Her gaze, though, lingered. She stared at me for so long that I could feel my face starting to heat up.
"Ro," I called, clearing my throat. "You've been staring too much. Are we going to have a staring contest out here?" I asked, trying to ease the tension in my chest.
She pressed the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. But before I could process what she was doing, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into her arms.
"Aurora!" I hissed, trying to break free, but her grip only tightened. "What the hell—let me go," I gritted out.
I tried to resist, but she didn't let me.
At some point, I just stopped fighting. It didn't seem like she had any intention of letting go, not with how tightly she was holding me.
I sighed, my arms slowly wrapping around her as my hand came up to pat her back gently.
"Are you... sick?" I asked, my voice low as I buried my face against her shoulder, aware of a few employees stealing glances in our direction.
Aurora shook her head, her face pressed into my shoulder. I felt her breath when she whispered, "Just... let me be. Even for a while."
Something in her tone made me go still. My eyes fluttered shut as I kept rubbing slow circles on her back. Her scent wrapped around me—familiar, soothing, dangerous. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
We stayed like that for a while. Eventually, I felt her grip loosen, though she didn't pull away. Her arms dropped to her sides, but her face remained buried in my shoulder.
I swallowed a lump, my cheeks burning at how close she still was. When she finally lifted her head, I cleared my throat, desperate to steady myself.
"Right... let's have lunch," she said with a soft smile, taking my hand to guide me toward the car. She opened the passenger door for me.
I didn't say anything—I didn't trust my voice to come out steady. My heart was still racing. Sliding into the seat, I watched through the windshield as she rounded the hood. Aurora opened the driver's door, slipped inside, and settled behind the wheel.
Buckling my seatbelt, I glanced at her. "I hope you remembered all the wedding preparations I gave you. I don't want to reschedule anything with the coordinator," I warned, knowing she might set another meeting when we already had specific dates planned.
"Don't worry," she said, starting the engine. "I've already blocked my schedule for everything."
"Good. Because I won't tolerate rescheduling," I replied, letting my eyes drift to the road instead.
"Swear it, I've got it covered," she said as the car began to move.
"You'd better," I muttered, watching the passing streets. But then my body stiffened when I felt the roof of her car slowly begin to fold back, the cool air sweeping over me.
I sat up straighter, raising a brow at her.
"Didn't you always love it?" Aurora smiled, glancing at me. "Riding in convertibles with the top down, breathing in the air, watching the scenery roll by?"
A scoff escaped me, though my gaze stayed on the road ahead.
"For someone who toyed with me for four years, you sure remember the little details," I said, clicking my tongue.
But despite my words, I hid a small smile—because somehow, at least, she did remember the things I loved.
"You could see it that way," she said softly. "Maybe I just never forgot."
I didn't respond. I didn't know what to say to that. Instead, I leaned back and stretched my arms, letting the wind whip through my hair. A faint smile tugged at my lips.
Somehow, I realized, I'd missed this kind of moment between us.