Chapter Fourteen
Aurora
The next day, my head’s still fogged. Work is the only thing keeping me from withering away.
I wipe counters and rearrange jars that don’t need rearranging—anything to keep my mind from circling back to Lucian.
Then my phone rings. It’s face down on the counter, and I almost don’t look. But I force myself to.
Director David.
I stare at the name until it stops ringing, not knowing whether I should answer or not.
Then it starts again.
I pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. And then I decide to answer—because I don’t want them to think I’m running. I am running, but they don’t need to know that.
“Hello?”
“Aurora,” he says carefully, like he’s talking to a wild animal that might bolt.
“Yeah.”
“I wanted to call… to apologize. For what’s been said online. It’s cruel.”
“Why apologize? They’re not lying.”
He sighs. “We both know they are.”
I’m not sure anymore.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I got your letter,” he grumbles.
“And?”
“I’m… confused.”
I rub my temple. “What’s there to be confused about? I quit.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “Except… you can’t.”
“Why?” I sigh.
“Aurora, Lucian’s lawyers reached out this morning. He’s transferring seventy percent of the company to you.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Did I hear him correctly?
“What?” I shriek.
“He’s signing it over.”
I rush to sit on the nearby stool, afraid I’ll pass out. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I thought the same,” he says. “But it’s happening.”
I bite my lip, trying to make sense of it all. He’s giving me his company. After everything.
He destroys me, then hands me the ruins like a gift. Who’s getting the other thirty percent? The other woman?
“I—uh. Okay,” I mumble.
“Aurora? Listen, I need to warn you—”
But I hang up. I don’t need to hear anything else that’ll mess with my mental health more than it’s already fucked up.
Why give me the company? Is it guilt? Control? Some new way to tie me to him?
None of it makes sense. None of him ever made sense.
“Aurora!”
The voice crashes through the sound of rain against the window.
No. No, it can’t be.
I hear it again, louder this time. “Aurora!”
I rush to the balcony. He’s right there, across the street from the bakery—soaked. His shirt clings to him, hair plastered to his forehead, shouting my name like a madman.
“Lucian?” I whisper.
My feet move before my mind does. I run down the stairs, heart hammering, half out of anger, half out of—God, I don’t even know what.
The rain slaps me in the face. He grabs me and pulls me against him like he’s been drowning and just found air. For a second—just a second—I melt. Then I shove him away.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice cracks. “How did you even find me?”
“Really? That’s what you’re going to ask after blocking me and disappearing without a word?”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” I snap. “You ruined my life, Lucian! You—” I can’t even finish it. “How do you have the nerve to come here?”
“I know I did,” he mumbles. “I fucked up. I know that. But I’m trying to fix it.”
“Fixing it?” I laugh, bitter. “There’s no fixing this.”
Rain runs down my face, mixing with the tears burning behind my eyes. I see Aunt Celine on the balcony above, watching with her hand over her mouth.
It gives me strength not to act like a lovesick little girl.
“Where were you that night?” I hiss.
He looks away.
“Answer me, Lucian. Where the hell were you?”
Nothing.
“I saw the pictures. I know that you were with her. You were kissing her.”
“I didn’t kiss her,” he snaps. “I shoved her away.”
“Don’t lie to me—”
“I’m not!” His voice explodes. “She came to my brother’s club and sat next to me. I didn’t even want her there, and I didn’t interact with her. When she leaned in, I pulled back and had her thrown out. She’s the one who called the press. She set the whole damn thing up!”
Relief hits me so hard I could melt into the pavement. Because I believe him. But I don’t know if that means I forgive him.
“I came here to tell you I’m done being an idiot. I made a mess, and I’m owning it.”
Now that, my brain can’t process.
“You came here for the contract, didn’t you?” I spit. “Shove it up your ass.”
Rain drips off his jaw. “You think I came here for that?”
“Yes.”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope that quickly becomes soaked.
“This contract?” he asks.
Then he tears it right in front of me. The paper rips, water smearing the ink.
“This is what I came for,” he says, throwing the shredded pieces into the rain. “You can hate me all you want, Aurora. You probably should. But I’m not letting you think for one second that I’m letting you go without a fight.”
I stare at the shredded contract on the ground, pieces of it sticking to our shoes. And I confront my biggest fear.
“Was any of this real? Did you only sponsor me because you wanted to fuck me?” The words taste like rust.
“No. I had nothing to do with your recruitment,” he says, shaking his head, water flying off his hair. “I have nothing to do with the talent acquisition board. But when I saw you dance for the first time—” he stops and runs a hand down his face. “I got… stuck on you. Obsessed. You’re an incredible dancer, Aurora. You earned every inch of that stage.”
I sigh, wiping my face, though it’s pointless with all the rain. I wish I could describe what I’m feeling, but it’s turned into nothing more than numbness.
“And the shares?”
“You deserve them. I made you feel powerless, so now I’m giving you back the power. I went about my obsession the wrong way. I hurt you. I humiliated you. I went after what I wanted like I always do—cruel. And when I realized what I’d done, it was too late.”
I open my mouth to respond, but my aunt cuts me off. Which is a good thing, because I have no idea what I would have said.
“Aurora!” she calls from the balcony, her hand shielding her face from the drizzle. “You’re going to catch a cold out there, mon c?ur! And you—” she points at Lucian, “you too! Come inside before you both get sick.”
Lucian’s still staring at me, like he’s afraid that if he blinks, I’ll disappear again.
“Let’s go inside,” he murmurs—but his tone sounds more like pleading. Pleading that I don’t turn him away again.
I’m not sure I even can.