Chapter 74
My mind was a mess, and I hadn't been able to rest the entire night. Aurora hadn't come home, and she wasn't at her old house before we got married. She wasn't even answering her phone.
"Oh, fuck!" I hissed as I slammed on the brake, nearly hitting the steering wheel when I tried to pull into a parking spot. My heart pounded when I realized whose car it was—Aurora's. I shifted gears, intending to reverse, but she beat me to it.
Heaving a sigh, I gave up and parked my car in the space she left. As I stepped out, I noticed Millie's car pulling up just behind me.
Aurora climbed out of her car, and when our eyes met, she froze. I gave her a faint smile and started walking toward her, but she quickly looked away—like I was a stranger—and turned toward the building entrance.
"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath.
"Ooh," Millie teased, smirking. "Damn, you got ignored on your wedding anniversary?" She nudged me playfully, earning a groan from me.
Can't she just... I don't know, pretend that everything's fine? It's our anniversary—she doesn't need to act like this. I forced myself to breathe, straighten up, and walk after her.
"Ms. Sloane," Celeste greeted with a polite smile. "This way, please." She gestured for us to follow.
Millie walked ahead beside Celeste, leaving Aurora and me side by side.
It felt less like we were heading to our anniversary celebration and more like we were about to enter a boxing ring.
My gaze drifted to Aurora's hand, and I almost reached for it—until she slipped it into her pocket.
I exhaled quietly, clasping my hands together instead. "Where have you been staying?" I asked softly. She hadn't given me any update, and I just needed to know she was safe.
She glanced at me briefly, then looked away. "Somewhere," she said.
My brow arched. "And where's somewhere?" I pressed. "Because I went to your old house—the one you lived in before we got married—and you weren't there. So where?"
She gave a small chuckle, shaking her head as she looked at me. "For someone who married me out of revenge, you sure care too much," she said with a bitter laugh before walking ahead.
Her words made me pause. I stared at her back for a moment before striding after her. "Ro," I called out. "If you'd just listen to me, you'd understand. But you keep running away from everything like it's the only solution you've got."
I didn't want to fight—not today. It was our anniversary. I just wanted to clear things up, to let her know the truth. I was still her wife, so why did she have to keep doing this?
When we stopped before the glass doors, she turned to me, her eyes narrowing. "Sol, if you could've just admit—"
Her words were cut off when Celeste and Millie swung the door open, followed by a loud pop! that made me flinch.
"Happy first wedding anniversary!" everyone inside the room cheered as confetti filled the air and a banner unfurled above the stage. I couldn't help but chuckle, startled and touched all at once.
Aurora stood beside me, frozen in shock.
I laughed softly at her reaction, my arms instinctively wrapping around her as I pulled her close.
When she looked at me, her eyes wide, I smiled.
"Let's talk after this, okay?" I whispered, not waiting for her answer before tugging her gently toward the crowd.
I turned to everyone with a wide grin. "Gosh, thank you, everyone, for the surprise!" I said, laughing in delight. The tension that had followed Aurora and me like a storm cloud finally began to lift—just a little.
The children came running toward us, circling us in excitement before throwing their little arms around our legs.
I released Aurora to crouch down and give them playful high-fives, their laughter melting something heavy in my chest. Aurora joined in, ruffling their hair and matching their energy with an easy smile.
Some of the kids tugged me away from her, giggling as they pulled me across the room.
I bent down, laughing as I hugged them back.
Then a burst of upbeat music filled the air, and the kids started dancing—so, naturally, I joined in.
For a few precious minutes, I let myself forget everything.
If things had gone differently between us, maybe we'd be celebrating today with our twins—with our family. The thought tightened my chest, but I smiled anyway, because seeing Aurora laugh with the children was almost enough.
When my gaze found hers, I realized she was already looking at me. She smiled—softly, almost tenderly—but as soon as our eyes met, she looked away. My faint smile faltered. Somehow, I'm disappointed to myself for believing she could have hurt me.
"How about we take a group photo?" the director called from the mic, and the kids squealed in excitement.
I looked toward Aurora. She seemed lost in thought until Celeste gently touched her arm, guiding her forward.
The children pulled me onto the platform stage, where two chairs were set up. They insisted I take one, leaving the other for Aurora, who looked visibly uncomfortable.
"Alright, kids, gather around!" the photographer called out. "Ms. Aurora, Ms. Sloane—closer, please."
I moved nearer, and Aurora hesitantly did the same.
"That's it! Now, let's do a heart pose," the photographer said, demonstrating.
Aurora lifted her right arm, curving it over her head. I mirrored her with my left, completing the heart. I leaned in a little, smiling despite everything.
"Perfect! Steady... one, two, three—say cheese!"
"Cheese!" we echoed with the children, and the camera flashed bright.
The celebration lasted a few hours—long enough to fill the room with laughter and warmth before the kids had to rest. As we said our goodbyes, Aurora quietly excused herself and slipped out.
"Millie, I'm just going to check on her," I said, already following her before Millie could respond.
I found Aurora standing in front of her car, her head tilted toward the gray sky, lost in thought.
"Ro," I called softly, stepping closer.
She turned, startled to see me. Straightening, she met my eyes.
"Happy anniversary," I said with a small smile, then let out a bitter laugh. "Okay, that's lame—I know this isn't exactly a happy anniversary. But... can we talk?"
I just wanted to settle things between us.
As I studied her face, I noticed her eyes—slightly swollen, shadowed with dark circles.
She looked exhausted, like she hadn't been sleeping at all.
Then, she pulled something from the pocket of her suit and held it out to me.
"Here. My gift. Happy anniversary."
I blinked at her, then at the small box in her hand. My throat tightened. My own gift was still at home—actually, both at our house and at Millie's. When I didn't take hers, Aurora reached out, grabbed my wrist, and pressed the box into my palm.
"Ro, please..." I murmured, my voice soft, almost pleading. I stepped closer, hoping she'd let me in for once. "Can we just talk this over? I have my reasons for what I did. Just... let me explain first."
She looked at me then—really looked. For a moment, I saw the flicker of something familiar in her eyes. Her lips parted, like she was about to speak—
"Ms. Sloane," Millie's voice interrupted, and I almost groaned out loud.
I turned to her, irritation pulsing behind my eyes. "What is it, Millie?"
"Ms. Verne called. She said you're needed at the investor meeting for their company."
My brow twitched. Goddamn it, not again. "Tell her I can't. It's my wedding anniver—"
"You should go," Aurora cut in.
I snapped my gaze back to her, watching as she opened her car door. What? I almost laughed in disbelief. "That's your work, Sol. You should go," she said simply.
"Ro," I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Aren't we going to celebrate our anniversary together? We planned a dinner."
She just shrugged. "Cancel it. Go to your business partner."
My lips parted. She's seriously doing this right now? On our anniversary?
"She's just a business partner. You're my wife."
"And I'm telling you to go to your business partner.
" Her tone was calm, almost mocking. "After all, your schedule's never been clear enough for us.
" She slipped into her car, before shutting the door, she added, "Besides, we can celebrate next year.
After all, there's no divorce in this marriage, right? "
"Ro!" I called out, but she was already pulling away, leaving me standing there, clutching the box in my hand.
"You're fucking kidding me," I hissed, dragging a hand down my face before turning to Millie. "You know what? Let's just go."
She nodded silently, and we headed to our cars. As I drove toward Margot's building, irritation burned in my chest.
I'd been trying—reaching out, apologizing—and still, she kept pushing me away like I didn't matter. My hands tightened on the wheel, and I slammed it once out of sheer frustration.
"This better be worth it," I muttered as I pulled into the parking lot.
Storming inside the building, I barely acknowledged anyone before striding straight to the conference room, the echo of Aurora's last words still biting at the edge of my mind.
?·???°???°???·?
When I got home, Aurora wasn't there. The food, the decorations—everything was already prepared, yet not a single trace of her lingered in the house. I dismissed the housekeepers one by one, leaving myself alone with the silence. The emptiness hit harder than I expected.
I sank into the chair, staring at the table set for two. A frustrated laugh escaped me. "Aren't you coming home? It's our anniversary, Ro," I whispered to no one. My phone buzzed again—another message from Soeren, asking if I was still picking up Dione tonight.
Leaning back, I tilted my head toward the ceiling and sighed. "Two more hours before our anniversary ends, Ro. Are you for real? Can't you just lower your pride for once and be with me?"
My thoughts were spinning, blurring together in exhaustion and guilt, when my phone rang. I almost ignored it—but something in me said to answer.
When I saw her name flash across the screen, I froze. Aurora.
I shot up from my chair and answered immediately. "Ro, thank God—"
"Doc..." Her voice broke on the other end, trembling, weak. "Doc, please. Send help."
My blood ran cold. "Ro? What—what's wrong? Where are you?"
"It hurts so much... please make it stop. Please... help."
Her words barely came out between gasps. I grabbed my car keys from the table, my heart pounding in my chest. "Ro, honey, where are you?"
"I'm... at my office. It really hurts..."
I didn't think—I just moved. My hands were shaking as I opened the car door and slid inside. "Ro, I'll be there. Just stay where you are, okay? Don't move."
"It hurts... please... make it stop..." she sobbed, and the sound made my chest tighten painfully.
I buckled my seatbelt, phone pressed into the holder. "Ro, listen to me. I'm coming. Just stay on the line, okay?"
She kept repeating the same words—it hurts, help me, please. I could barely hear her breathing.
"Ro! What's going on? Tell me what's happening!" I yelled, trying to keep my focus on the road, my pulse thundering.
Then silence. "Ro? Aurora!" I called again. Nothing.
"Goddamn it!" I slammed my hand against the wheel and sped up, running a red light just to reach her faster.
By the time I reached her office building, I barely parked the car straight. I jumped out and rushed through the lobby. Only a few employees were still around; their faces blurred as I sprinted toward the elevators.
The ride up felt endless. My arms were crossed, fingers tapping against my skin, every second heavier than the last.
When the elevator doors opened, I bolted down the hall toward her office. I knocked once, breathless. "Ro!"
No answer. I swiped my access card and shoved the door open—and froze.
She was lying on the floor, sideways, her phone beside her. "Fuck." I rushed to her, dropping to my knees. "Ro!" My voice cracked as I cupped her face, lifting her head onto my lap.
"Ro, wake up! Wake up, please!" I shook her, desperate for any sign of life.
Her skin was cold, her body limp. "No... no, no, no." I shook her again, harder this time. "Ro! Aurora! Please, wake up!"
Her lips were pale, her forehead marred with a small but deep concussion. I pressed my trembling hand against her cheek.
"Ro... please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, don't do this to me."
Goddamn it! I hissed inwardly, forcing back the tears burning in my eyes. Inside, I was a storm—chaotic, furious, terrified.
I patted her cheeks, desperate, when I suddenly saw her move. Her eyelids fluttered open.
"Ro!" I gasped, cupping her face.
But the second her eyes met mine, she froze. Her expression shifted—shock, almost horror. She jerked away from me, prying my hands off and crawling back.
I blinked. What the hell?
"I'm fine," she stammered. "I-I was just... just trying to fool you." A forced laugh slipped past her lips as she looked around, avoiding my gaze. "Why are you here?"
My jaw clenched, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Is she seriously messing with me right now?
"If you're fine," I said through gritted teeth, "then don't call me like you actually needed me."
I stood, towering over her, anger bubbling beneath my ribs. I came rushing here terrified she was hurt—only for her to act like it's some kind of joke?
"What now, Ro?
What kind of theatre is this?" I snapped.
"You told me to attend the investor meeting, and then you call me out of nowhere?
I ran here thinking something happened." I jabbed a finger toward her chest. "Look at you—did you soak your clothes for effect?
And the blood on your forehead—what, part of the props too? "
I was shaking with irritation, voice breaking. If she wanted to see me, she could've just said so. She didn't have to scare the hell out of me!
Aurora's hand trembled as she touched her forehead. "I—"
"Do you even know how worried I was when you called? Crying? Begging for help?" My voice cracked, vision blurring. I couldn't tell if I was angry, scared, or both. "Do you have any idea how that felt?"
I grabbed her by the collar, pulling her close until our faces were inches apart.
"Stop pretending," I hissed, harshly wiping the blood from her skin.
"Wipe that fake blood—" I froze. The crimson on my fingers wasn't makeup.
It was real. My chest tightened. I swallowed hard, staring at her wound.
"It wasn't fake," she murmured and shoved my hand away. My reflexes betrayed me; my palm grazed her cheek harder than I meant to.
The sharp smack echoed. I froze, horror creeping up my spine. She straightened, avoiding my gaze, brushing off her clothes like nothing had happened.
"Ro," I whispered, guilt clawing at my throat. "What the hell is going on? Where did you get that wound?"
She sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Stop overreacting, Sol. I'm fine." She pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing the blood away.
I rubbed my temples, trying to calm myself down. "Ro, can you stop being like this?"
"Like what?" she asked softly, feigning innocence.
"Like this!" I snapped. "Are you trying to end up in the hospital? I heard you crying, saying it hurts—what hurts? That cut? Where did it come from?"
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before speaking. "Sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I hit my forehead on the corner of my desk. I didn't mean to call you—I thought I was calling my doctor. I didn't mean to disturb your work."
I exhaled sharply, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little. "You're not disturbing me," I said, stepping closer. "If you call me, I'll drop everything. You know that."
She looked at me quietly, and for a moment, something soft flickered in her eyes.
"Sol," she whispered. My name sounded fragile on her lips.
"Hmm?" I breathed, waiting—hoping—for her to say something more but she didn't.
"Ro, what is it?" I pressed.
Aurora stepped forward, cupping my face with trembling hands. And then, she kissed me.
It was sudden, desperate. I gasped against her lips, but when she pulled me closer, I gave in. My arms wrapped around her neck, holding her as if she might disappear again.
We both gasped as we pulled back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, resting her forehead against mine.
"I didn't know... I didn't know I left you pregnant.
I didn't know you had a miscarriage. I'm so sorry.
" Her voice cracked. "I'll let you take your revenge on me, but please. .. please, just stay with me."
Revenge? What revenge was she even talking about? I was long past that. All I wanted now was her—to stay, to be with her. No more vengeance. I had already let that go the moment I told her we should give each other a chance.
A soft sigh escaped me as I cupped her face, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. "There's something I want you to know," I said quietly. "Will you come home with me tonight?"
Aurora nodded like a child. "Yes," she whispered.
I smiled faintly and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Pack up your things," I said, glancing at my wristwatch. "We still have time to celebrate our anniversary."
She gave me a small, hesitant smile before turning back to her desk. I waited for her at the doorway, watching her movements until she came to stand beside me. Studying her face, I reached for her wrist and guided her out of the office.
I drove us straight to where Dione was. This time, I was ready to do what was right—no more secrets, no more hiding, no more revenge.
We pulled up in front of Millie's house, where Dione had been staying. My chest tightened as I glanced at Aurora, wondering how she'd react. What if she doesn't want Dione? What if she doesn't believe me?
No. Don't think like that, Sloane.
I pressed the doorbell and waited.
"I didn't know she lived somewhere like this," Aurora murmured, glancing around. "It looks... nice."
I couldn't help but chuckle, meeting her gaze. "Right. Millie's my sister-in-law. She's married to my younger brother."
Aurora tilted her head, raising a brow. "Really?"
I nodded, pressing the doorbell again.
"Wait up!" came Soeren's muffled voice before the door swung open.
He quickly ushered me inside, and Aurora followed close behind.
"Sis, good thing you're here," Soeren said, grinning. "Your daughter's been throwing tantrums all afternoon."
Before I could respond, Dione appeared from the dining area. "Mommy! I am not!" she cried, rushing to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. "Uncle's teasing me again!"
I laughed softly, hugging her back—until I realized Aurora was right behind me, silent. The sound of her voice broke the spell.
"Mommy? Daughter?" she asked, her tone laced with disbelief and confusion.
I shut my eyes, exhaling slowly. When I opened them, I turned to face her, gently guiding Dione to stand in front of me.
"Oh! I didn't know you'd bring your wife today, sis—ow!" Soeren yelped when I jabbed him in the ribs.
"Shut up," I hissed at him without looking away from Aurora.
Her expression said it all—shock, disbelief, a hundred unspoken questions. "What's going on...?" she asked, her gaze darting between me and Dione. She stared at our daughter for what felt like forever, as if trying to piece together what she was seeing.
I patted Dione's head gently. "Dione, sweetheart, go on—greet your other mother."
My daughter froze beside me, her eyes mirroring Aurora's shock.
"Other mother?!" Aurora repeated, pointing at herself.
I crossed my arms, rolling my eyes lightly despite the tension knotting my chest. "What? You got me pregnant more than a decade ago, Aurora. And this kid right here is the proof." I rested my hand on Dione's head.
Her jaw dropped. "But... you told me you had a miscarriage."
I opened my mouth to respond, but Dione spoke first. "Mommy told me I had a twin brother," she said softly. "But he died from a miscarriage. That's why she only has me."
Aurora and Dione looked at each other, as if memorizing the way they somehow shared the same features. Amused by their mirrored expressions, I cleared my throat.
"Didn't I tell you it was twins?
Fraternal," I said lightly. "The boy didn't survive the stress I went through—hence the miscarriage.
But my Dione here"—I draped an arm around her shoulders, playfully hooking her neck as she giggled—"is a fighter.
She just turned twelve. I figured it was time you knew you have an heir. "
Aurora didn't look at me. She just stood there, frozen, her body stiff as if her brain had stopped processing.
"Sis, I think your wife's having a short circuit," Soeren teased, earning a groan and a light smack on the back of his head from me.
"Just shut up, will you?" I hissed, then turned serious. "And... is Dione's stuff packed already?"
I planned to bring Dione back home with us. I looked down at my daughter and patted her shoulder for encouragement. "Go on, sweetheart. Talk to your mother. I'll get your things."
Knowing my daughter, I was sure she'd have the courage to talk to Aurora. I motioned for Soeren to follow me upstairs, giving the two of them space.
As we reached the hallway, Soeren draped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. I nudged him, frowning. "What the hell are you doing?"
He grinned. "So... did you two already make up about the embezzlement thing?" he asked as we entered Dione's room.
I let out a tired sigh, folding some of Dione's clothes and placing them neatly into her duffel bag. "No, not yet. But I'll talk to her later."
"Well, at least you're both trying to settle things. That's a big step," he said, carrying Dione's small suitcase out of the room.
"Soeren," I called after him, slinging the strap of the bag over my shoulder.
He turned, one brow raised. "What is it, sis?"
"Check who leaked the embezzlement information. Make sure it doesn't reach the public," I said, my voice firm.
His brows knitted. "What do you mean?"
I stepped closer. "Someone's trying to sabotage my relationship with Aurora—and possibly damage the company's reputation. I want you to investigate it quietly. I'll act like everything's normal in the meantime."
Soeren studied me for a moment before nodding. "Got it. I'll look into it."
I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping my gut was wrong. But if I was right—if all of this was connected—then I was ready to end it once and for all.
When I walked back down the stairs, I froze at the last step.
Aurora was kneeling, hugging our daughter tightly.
A wave of warmth spread through me, a kind of peace I hadn't felt in years.
The sight was beautiful—Aurora holding Dione as if she'd found something she didn't know she'd lost.
Our eyes met. Aurora smiled faintly and mouthed a silent thank you.
I smiled back, nodding. I stayed where I was, letting them have their moment. Dione needed to feel that Aurora was real, that she was loved. And Aurora needed to feel the same.
After so long, I could finally picture it—the three of us under one roof, living like a normal, happy family. The thought alone made my chest ache in the best way. For the first time in years, I smiled wholeheartedly, realizing I'd always longed for this... for us.