Chapter 63
Reaching the hotel's parking area, I stepped out of the car. A moment later, Aurora's car pulled up beside mine. I opened the trunk and grabbed my suitcase, but before I could hand it to the hotel staff, Aurora took it from me and passed it over herself.
I couldn't help but scoff at her gesture. She was already talking to the staff when I lightly clung to her injured arm, careful not to touch the bandaged part.
"We still have an hour before the reunion," I said as we walked toward the hotel lobby. "Want to take a nap first? Four hours on the road must've been tiring."
Aurora didn't respond. She just stayed quiet beside me as we made our way to the reception desk. While I spoke with the staff and signed the forms, she stood silently next to me until the brass keys were handed over.
"Aren't you hungry?" she asked as we climbed the grand staircase to the first floor. "We could order breakfast service or grab something before heading to the tennis club."
I shook my head and handed her the key to her room. Letting go of her arm, I stepped toward the room beside hers. "Let's grab a quick breakfast before heading to the club," I said, giving her a faint smile before unlocking my door.
A staff member wheeled my suitcase inside. I gave him a polite nod and closed the door once he left. Setting my suitcase near the couch, I dropped down onto it and crossed my arms, shutting my eyes for a moment.
"Oxford," I murmured under my breath, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "It's been so long."
After a quiet pause, I stood up and brought my things into the bedroom. "Better get ready for the reunion," I muttered to myself, pulling out a change of clothes and going through my usual routine.
A short while later, dressed in fresh clothes and light makeup, I grabbed my duffel bag with my tennis gear inside, slung it over my shoulder, and stepped out of the room. After locking the door behind me, I headed next door to Aurora's and knocked.
"Hey," she greeted, opening the door wider.
I squinted at her as I walked past. "You know you shouldn't just—" My voice caught when I saw her injured arm. A quiet sigh slipped from my lips. "Come here," I said, taking her hand and leading her to the couch.
I gently pushed her down to sit and set my duffel bag on the coffee table. Sitting beside her, I took her hand and rested it on my lap before reaching for her first-aid kit.
My throat bobbed as I felt her lingering gaze on me.
"You look beautiful," she said, and I froze. I couldn't help but scoff, though my heart skipped a beat.
I let my eyes drift to her injury instead. "Will you be able to play like this?" I asked, noticing how red the burns still looked. Even without her saying a word, I could almost feel the pain myself—and no wonder she'd been upset with me.
"I'll try, if it doesn't hurt too much. Or maybe I'll just watch you play," Aurora murmured, her voice low but enough for me to hear.
I hummed, nodding as I carefully peeled away the waterproof bandage on her arm.
I dabbed a thin layer of topical cream over the burn, my touch light.
"Don't push yourself. Switch to your right hand if you have to," I said, pulling out a clean bandage to cover the wound again.
Seeing her like this twisted something inside me. She didn't need to tell me it hurt—I could feel it. And the worst part was knowing it was partly my fault. I was her wife, yet I hadn't been there when she needed me.
"There," I said softly, releasing her hand once I finished wrapping the burn. "Now go get dressed. Didn't you say we'd get breakfast first?"
She nodded, standing up. "Right," she agreed before heading into the bedroom, leaving me on the couch.
I leaned back, eyes drawn to the morning light spilling across the horizon. "I hope Oxford will be kind to me today," I murmured under my breath, chuckling quietly to myself.
"I'm ready," came Aurora's voice a few minutes later.
I straightened up, glancing over my shoulder—and froze again.
She looked stunning, effortlessly so. Of course, she did; coming from a bloodline of designers, she could turn even simple clothes into something runway-worthy.
Most of her outfits were custom-made, anyway.
"Don't forget your duffel bag," I said, pretending I hadn't just checked her out.
But instead of taking just her own, she grabbed mine too. I blinked, shaking my head as I stood.
"Let's go," she said with a small, easy smile.
I was momentarily speechless. Something about her felt different today—or maybe it was just Oxford, pulling at both our ghosts. I clicked my tongue, brushing the thought aside as we walked out of the room and into the parking lot.
Stopping beside my car, I unlocked it and slipped into the driver's seat. Aurora opened the back door and placed my bag inside.
"Oh, right—take this too," she said, leaning into the backseat. I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw her draping an overcoat beside my bag. "Your leather jacket might not be enough when it gets colder."
A soft smile tugged at my lips. She was still the same—always looking after me, even in the smallest ways.
She closed the door and walked around to my side. I rolled the window down, motioning for her to lean closer. Before she could speak, I leaned in and brushed a quick kiss across her lips.
"Now, genius, go get in your car," I said, starting the engine. "You're the one who knows where we're eating."
Her cheeks flushed pink, her composure cracking for once. "Right, right," she said quickly, rushing to her car.
I watched her pull out of the parking lot, her taillights flashing once as she honked for me to follow. I smiled faintly and drove after her.
Humming to myself, I raised a brow when she slowed down in front of the Oxford Brunch Bar. "Wow," I muttered under my breath. "Is she really trying to rub all our Oxford memories right in my face?"
Twenty minutes later, she parked, and I pulled into the nearest spot beside her. When I stepped out of the car, Aurora was already waiting by the entrance.
She opened the door for me, that familiar gesture of quiet chivalry I'd missed far too much. I stepped inside first, her soft presence close behind me.
We found an available table near the window and decided to take the spot. Before I could, Aurora pulled out a chair for me. I sat down while she took the seat across from me. She leaned in, all smiles. "Want your usual? Like the old days?"
Tilting my head, I rested my elbow on the table, my chin propped on my palm. I couldn't help but look at her. She really remembered all the details?
"It's surprising you still remember what I like," I said.
She just smiled. "Wait here. I'll order."
As she walked away, I turned toward the window, letting out a quiet sigh.
This was the place where we used to have our morning dates.
Aurora always insisted on sitting across from me, saying she wanted to see my face every time we ate.
And now, even after everything, she was still doing it.
I wondered why she really left. Was it truly because she was afraid I'd leave her first? She could've just told me—asked me. I'd always told her that communication mattered more than her pretending she was fine when she wasn't.
"Here's your breakfast, Sloey."
Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I sat up straighter and glanced at the plate. The Sunshine Plate. "Thanks," I mumbled, picking up my cutlery. "So... what's the plan? Should we fake it—just exes? Or tell them we're married?" I asked as she sat back down.
She leaned forward, grinning. "Up to you. What do you want to tell them?"
I smirked, a ridiculous idea forming in my head. "Let's tell them. We're legally married anyway. But here's the catch..." I gestured for her to lean closer, and she did.
Leaning in, I whispered against her ear, "Let's pretend we're exes first. Then we'll tell them the truth when we reach the bar tonight."
She laughed, and I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. "So," I said, extending my hand to her, "do we have a deal?"
"Deal!" she said, shaking my hand.
We ate our breakfast, talking about old memories like we were just a normal married couple—with no breakup, no hurt, just us. When we finished eating, we lingered for a few minutes before deciding to leave.
She walked me to my car. "I'll go in first, okay?" I said, holding the door open. "I'll message you once you can come."
Aurora nodded, standing nearby. I sighed, stepped closer, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll go ahead," I said, sliding into my car and closing the door.
After buckling my seatbelt, I started the ignition and looked into the rearview mirror.
Aurora was still standing there, checking the road as if making sure no car was coming.
She gestured that it was safe to pull out.
I honked softly, lowering my window as I eased out of the parking space.
"I'm off. I love you!" I called out, waving my hand.
We both froze. My words hung between us, sharp and fragile. Aurora's face flushed as she stared at me. Realizing what I'd just said, I quickly rolled the window back up and honked once before driving off.
"What the fuck?" I hissed to myself. "Did you just tell her you love her, Sloane?"
My free hand flew to my chest, feeling my heart hammering. "Jesus Christ, Sloane," I muttered, shaking my head.
?·???°???°???·?
Arriving at the meet-up location, I glanced around the parking lot before getting out of my car and opening the backseat to grab my duffel bag and Aurora's overcoat. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I clutched her coat in my arms.
After locking the car, I walked inside the concierge. I informed the staff about our reservation and signed the logbook before she handed me a locker key.
Heading straight to the changing area, I changed into my tennis outfit: a sleeveless polo top, a white skirt with a sharp side slit, white Dior sneakers, and a sweatband. I tied my hair into a ponytail and slid on a visor cap.
Stepping out of the changing area, I folded my clothes neatly and tucked them into my duffel bag before pulling out my tennis racket bag. Once my duffel was secured in the locker, I made my way to the club room.
"Sloane! Here!" a familiar voice called, making me grin as I waved at the group already gathered near the benches. I jogged toward them, laughing.
"Hey, guys! Long time no see," I said, setting down my racket bag and pulling out a chair beside Taylor, our previous captain before Aurora.
"It's been forever," Maychelle, our old vice-captain, chimed in, wrapping her arms around me from behind. "Gosh, Sloane. I haven't heard a thing about you and Rory in so long."
"Speaking of Rory," one of our teammates added, "she hasn't been chatting in the group either. You said she's coming too, right?"
I hesitated, offering a small smile. "That's what she said. Maybe she's already on her way." Unlocking my phone, I opened the camera app. "Now, why don't we take a few photos first?"
The group squeezed together, and I snapped several shots while we waited for the others to arrive. Then I opened my messages and sent one of the photos to Aurora. Come now, I typed before hitting send.
"Guys, who wants to come with me? I'll go check with reception about the snacks we requested," Maychelle said, raising her hand.
"I'll come with you," I offered.
She grinned, looping her arm through mine. "Alright, Sloane and I will be right back," she announced, tugging me along toward the lobby.
"So, Sloane," Maychelle began as we walked, her tone teasing. "What's your reaction going to be when you see your long-time ex again? Do you think Rory's married? I haven't seen her date anyone since you two broke up."
I groaned, laughing. "Beats me," I said with a shrug. "I'm curious to see how she's doing after all these years." Which was ironic, considering I was technically her wife now.
Maychelle laughed softly as we stopped at reception.
She spoke with the staff for a moment before one of the attendants appeared, pushing a cart full of snacks and drinks.
As we guided the cart back to the open court, Maychelle leaned closer and whispered, "So, have you moved on?
It's been twelve years, right? Most of us are already settled down.
" She shrugged, still clinging to my arm.
I chuckled. "Moved on? Please. I've been so busy working my ass off, I barely have time to think about it. Maybe I have... or maybe not."
She groaned playfully and nudged me again. When we reached the court, she suddenly went still. "Oh, here's the ex," she whispered, her tone half-teasing, half-thrilled.
Sure enough, Aurora was standing nearby.
The group immediately erupted into teasing noises as Aurora turned to look at me. I froze, standing awkwardly in front of her.
"Ohhh," the group cooed in unison.
"What kind of sorcery is this? Don't tell us this is a coincidence—couple outfits?" someone laughed.
I groaned under my breath and walked past Aurora, pretending not to notice. I could feel her eyes on me as I sat beside Taylor, forcing a faint smile and trying my best to act like a composed ex.
After all, we were wearing matching outfits—and it definitely wasn't a coincidence, since I'd bought them myself.
Maychelle, of course, couldn't resist stirring the pot. "Why don't you sit beside your ex?" she said, pushing Aurora toward the empty spot beside me. Aurora's shoulder brushed mine as she sat down, and I didn't react—just kept up the pretense of indifference.
But then, my hand, resting on the bench between us, brushed something warm.
I stiffened when I realized it was hers.
I nudged her side, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
Then I shot her a glare, a silent warning, as she stubbornly kept holding my hand.
Aurora didn't pull away. She just looked around—at everyone except me.
I sighed and gave in. Well, whatever. Whether they found out now or later, we were planning to tell them anyway—that the exes they thought had broken up were actually married to each other.
"Why don't Rory and Sloane team up against the former Captain and Vice-Captain?" Maychelle suddenly suggested, her eyes glinting as she looked at Taylor.
Taylor laughed softly. "What's this? Captain and Vice-Captain versus Captain and Vice-Captain?"
Tilting my head, I smirked and shrugged. "I don't see why not." My gaze flicked to Aurora, and I tried to pull my hand free—but she didn't let go. "Though I doubt the former captain here can even play."
Her brow shot up, her expression shifting like I'd just personally offended her. "Why don't you try me?"
I squinted at her, then rolled my eyes. Aurora finally released my hand as I stood up.
"I'm in," she announced. "Though I might have to use my non-dominant hand."
This stubborn woman. I swear, if her injury got worse, I was going to knock her out myself.
Taylor chuckled. "Don't come crying when you lose," she teased, gesturing to Maychelle.
Aurora just hummed, all confidence and arrogance. "I won't be crying. We're not going to lose." She said it like she was already claiming victory.
I crossed my arms, eyeing her. "Really? Then prove it." I gave her a once-over before brushing past her. "If we lose, you're treating everyone later." I warned, picking up my racket and heading toward the court.
The basket of tennis balls sat near the net. I grabbed one and served a quick practice shot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aurora walking toward me, racket in hand.
"You're seriously playing with that injury?" I muttered, smacking another serve.
"I can manage," she said, stretching her arm out.
Aurora and I had been partners in nearly every match back in the day—we'd won tournaments, doubles championships, even those late-night practice games that left us too sore to move the next day.
I knew she could pull through. But looking at the redness beneath her bandage, I couldn't shake the worry that she was pushing herself too far.
"Ro," I called out, glancing her way. "This isn't a real tournament. Stop being so competitive."
She shot me a teasing grin. "Sorry, that word doesn't exist in my vocabulary."
I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head as I moved into position.
It had been years since I'd last played seriously—aside from casual games back home with Dione.
Still, the moment I gripped the racket and faced the court, everything came rushing back.
The weight of the racket, the squeak of sneakers against clay, the rhythm of the serves—it all made my pulse race.
Taylor served first. I braced myself, muscles tensing as the ball cut through the air. Aurora caught it with a clean smash. Maychelle returned it, and I countered, each exchange faster than the last.
The four of us were locked in, playing like our lives depended on it. My skin glistened with sweat, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The volleys, the smashes, the grunts—it was everything I missed about the game.
What surprised me most was how easily Aurora and I slipped back into rhythm. After more than a decade apart, we still moved as one—her instinct meeting mine, like no time had passed at all.
But I noticed it—the faint wince she tried to hide every time she swung with her injured arm.
"Ro!" I called as the ball came her way.
She adjusted her stance and swung, but the ball clipped the top of the net and bounced back onto our side. The whistle blew. First set—lost.
Aurora laughed, though I could tell she was disappointed. She wiped her forehead with her sweatband, her breathing uneven.
"You okay?" I asked, stepping closer.
She was sweating too much for just one set.
"Not yet," she mumbled, still catching her breath. "But I will be."
I let out a sigh but didn't press her.
I had known her for so long that even if I told her to stop, she wouldn't listen.
She was just like that—doing what she could—and I just let her, because I knew she didn't need advice.
She just needed someone to be there when she crashed.
Taking a set of deep breaths, I gripped my racket tighter as the second set began. After a series of smashes and volleys, I could see how Aurora's rhythm shifted. I smiled to myself as I took the smash, killing it with a point.
Our teammates cheered, yelling our old chants from the playoffs. I couldn't help but chuckle. We exchanged commands, dove to the baselines, returned volleys, and killed with smashes. We finally won the set, 6–4.
We raised our hands, slapping them together as we bumped our sneakers like idiots—just like we always did before.
"Still doing that?" I heard one of the teammates yell from the sidelines.
"They're practically synced up!" another one shouted.
I laughed softly, shaking my head at their banter. Even I couldn't believe we were still doing those gestures. Perhaps it was just muscle memory.
As the final set dragged on, I could feel my grip on the racket faltering.
My breathing grew heavier as I glanced at Aurora, who was clearly trying to hide the throbbing pain in her injury.
Noticing how hard Taylor smashed her serve, I didn't think Aurora could return it.
My eyes widened when she adjusted her position. "Don't," I warned, looking at her as I tried to stop her from doing her signature shot. "You're going to hurt yourself, Ro. Don't kill yourself for this."
"I'm not done," she said, eyes locked on the ball. "Not yet."
I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched her move.
She was so certain she was going to kill that shot.
She took a step back, raised her racket, gripping it with both hands.
I saw the ball pause for a split second against her strings before she grunted and smashed it back to the other side of the court.
I swallowed hard, frozen in the middle of the court as Maychelle and Taylor tried to save the shot but collided with each other. My chest rose and fell as I watched the ball bounce on the ground.
The court erupted in cheers, whistles, and claps. "Dead Shot DeLacroix is back!" Maychelle roared, laughing.
I turned to Aurora, smiling.
"Don't tell me you two never stopped practicing together!" one of the teammates teased.
I couldn't help but laugh. Aurora bent over, panting, then looked at me as she wiped the sweat off her face. Before I could stop myself, I ran toward her, giggling like a child as I jumped in front of her and wrapped my arms around her.
She grunted but laughed, hugging me back.
"You're insane," I whispered, burying my face in her shoulder. "You still have that shot... after everything."
She laughed softly, her arms tightening around me as she spun us around.
"Just like old times!"
"Gosh! I know you're exes, but you two play like a damn couple!"
I heard them teasing us, but none of it mattered. It was like we were lost in our own moment. When I finally pulled back, I looked at her—my face heating up as I realized what I'd done. I swallowed hard as she set me down, our eyes still locked on each other.
"Guys, you might've forgotten, but you're exes—just so you know." Taylor pulled us apart, making us both laugh.
Aurora rubbed the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly as we all walked back to the bench. She excused herself from the group, and I followed a few moments later, only to find her in the locker room, pulling her bag out of the cubby.
"Are you alright?" I asked, walking toward her.
She jolted, looking at me. "Sol," she said, clearing her throat and glancing around. "Just my arm acting up." She shrugged.
I sighed, sitting down on the bleachers. "Go on, change your clothes. I'll help you clean your wound," I said, nodding toward the changing area.
She nodded and walked off, leaving me alone. I couldn't help but clutch my chest as I removed my visor. Something inside me was shifting, and I was afraid to name it—even though I already knew exactly what it was.
Not long after, Aurora came back, wearing the clothes she'd worn before we arrived. I patted the space beside me, urging her to sit.
She sat down, and I reached into her duffel bag for the first aid kit. Carefully, I unwrapped the bandage covering her burn and checked for any bleeding. "Good thing the top layer of skin didn't break," I murmured. "It would've bled if it did."
I dabbed a clean solution on it, waited for it to dry, then gently spread a thin layer of topical cream before covering it with a new bandage.
"There you go," I said softly, smiling as I let go of her hand and placed the kit back in her bag.
Aurora didn't say anything, which made me look up. She was staring at me, her gaze so steady it made my stomach twist.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I mumbled.
She only shrugged, then reached out and cupped my chin, her thumb brushing my jaw as she leaned in. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence just before her lips met mine.
My breath hitched. My hands instinctively clutched her shoulders as my eyes fluttered shut, and I found myself responding—slowly, helplessly—to her kiss.
Then, voices broke through the quiet.
"Oh." Taylor's voice made us both freeze. "You guys are here."
"Yeah," Aurora said quickly, pulling back. "Sol helped me change my bandage."
I sat rigid, staring straight ahead, terrified that my expression would give me away. The others teased us again, laughing as they walked in, but I couldn't bring myself to join. My face was burning.
God, we really did feel like a pair of college kids who almost got caught making out behind the gym. Gosh, so much for growing up.