Chapter Thirty-Five Aurora / Joshua
Chapter Thirty-Five
Aurora / Joshua
Aurora
The weekend crawled by in slow, aching hours. Saturday bled into Sunday without me noticing.
He’d asked me to stay another night, not with words exactly, just this quiet, careful tone that made me too tired to say no.
And maybe I stayed because deep down, I wanted to see if the softness would last. If the man who broke me could really care enough to let me breathe.
But it hurt.
God, it hurt to see him care.
To see him give up the bed for me.
To see him sleep on the floor one night and on the couch the next, like he was punishing himself.
It hurt to know that he could be kind. That under all that anger, there was something good in him. Because it made it harder to hate him.
And I wanted to hate him.
Hating him would’ve been easier.
Cleaner.
So I didn’t look at him when I got up that morning. Didn’t speak. Didn’t dare wake him. I just left a note on the counter, small, folded once.
Thank you.
For letting me rest.
—A
That was all I could manage. Anything more and I would’ve started crying again.
The elevator ride down to my floor felt longer than usual. When the doors opened, everything was quiet. Too quiet.
My apartment smelled like lavender detergent. The air felt stale, like I hadn’t really lived there for a while. I dropped my bag, went straight to bed, and didn’t even bother to change.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Layla, Aly, Jennie. Missed calls stacked on top of each other. Then one from work: FINAL WARNING. Show up tonight, or we’ll have to replace you.
I stared at the screen until it dimmed.
Then, I turned it face down.
I didn’t have the energy to call back.
Didn’t have the energy to be the scholarship girl, the hard worker, the shadowing student, the girl who keeps holding it together.
I just wanted… quiet. The same quiet he once called peace. But right now, it just felt like nothing.
My gaze travelled around the dullness of my room until it landed on something. Folded at the end of my bed like it had been waiting for me.
His jacket.
The one he threw around me that night when I tried to return the money.
I stared at it for a long time.
It wasn’t even mine. I should’ve given it back. Should’ve left it in his apartment before I left this morning.
But I didn’t. I must’ve just…forgotten.
And the envelope…
It sat right beside it, edges slightly bent from being carried around too much. He’d told me to keep it.
I hadn’t taken the money out since.
Couldn’t.
I didn’t want to take his pity or whatever.
I reached for the jacket instead. The fabric was heavier than I remembered, soft but stiff from the cold air.
When I pulled it into my arms, it felt… safe. Wrong but safe. I pressed my face into it before I could stop myself, and the stupid tears started burning behind my eyes again. I hated that it still smelled like him. I hated that I missed the person who broke me.
My fingers curled into the sleeve, holding on tighter than I should. I wasn’t sure if I was holding on because I missed him or because I missed who I thought he was. Either way, I hugged it to my chest, buried my face in it, and let my body sink into the mattress.
Tonight, I needed to rest. I thought to myself.
Just a few hours without thinking. Just me and the quiet. And the jacket that didn’t belong to me.
—
Joshua
Monday came too fast.
I barely slept, just lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting every hour between night and morning.
Campus felt different. The cold hit sharper, the noise around me too loud. Every laugh, every voice grated against my nerves.
Then I heard him.
“Leave her alone.”
Alex’s voice. Sharp. Flat.
I turned, frowning. “I didn’t—”
He didn’t let me finish. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, jaw tight.
“You’ve done enough.”
My stomach dropped before I even saw what he meant.
She was there.
Standing by the fountain with Jennie, Layla, and Aly. All of them were chatting like nothing was wrong, their laughter echoing across the courtyard.
But her.
She wasn’t laughing. Just listening, with a small smile on her face, like she was trying to blend in. Eyes tired. Hand cradled against the cast.
And draped over her frame—
My jacket.
The one she took that night. The one I forgot was even missing because I was too busy trying to forget how her body shook when I wrapped it around her.
It hung on her loosely, the sleeves too long, swallowing her hands. But she wore it like it belonged to her. Like I’d given it to her on purpose.
I couldn’t breathe.
Because fuck—
I thought she’d left it behind.
I thought she’d left me behind.
Alex followed my line of sight and sighed. “You see now?” he muttered. “She’s trying. To move on. Don’t drag her back down.”
Move on.
The words twisted in my chest like a blade. I wanted to look away, I really did. But I couldn’t. Not when she looked like that, fragile, quiet… alive.
In my jacket.
My throat tightened. “She kept it,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Alex’s jaw flexed. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably because it’s warm. Don’t make it mean more than it does.”
But it did.
It fucking did.
Because if she really hated me, she wouldn’t still be wearing a piece of me. And I stood there in the middle of the courtyard, frozen in place, realising that today…she looked okay.
Not happy, not healed… but breathing better. Eyes less empty.
And that was enough for me… it really was.
—
Class was a blur.
The professor talked, people laughed, pens clicked, and none of it stuck. None of it fucking mattered.
Because all I could think about was her. She was still shadowing me for a few more days.
Just a few.
Then she’d be done, free.
Free from me.
The thought made my stomach twist.
She’d walk away, and I’d have to watch her do it, pretending it didn’t feel like losing something I never even got to have.
So yeah, I went to class. But my head was already on the field. On the off chance she’d be there. Sitting at the bleachers, scribbling with that broken wrist and that stupid concentration face that made everything in me go quiet.
I’d ruined enough already.
But I couldn’t help wanting to try.
Not to fix it. I wasn’t naive enough to think I could fix what I broke, but maybe to make these last few days mean something.
To show her that I could be better. That I could be the person she thought I was before everything went to shit.
So when practice rolled around, I was already there early. Boots tied, ball at my feet, pretending to stretch while my eyes kept darting to the entrance. And every second that passed without her showing up felt heavier than the last.
Come on, Aurora.
Just today.
Let me see you one more time.
If she showed up, I’d stay calm. I’d play normal. No yelling, no coldness. Maybe even let her see that she wasn’t just a shadowing student anymore.
Maybe I couldn’t have her. But I could try to keep her, in the small, stupid way that meant watching her from the field, knowing she was there, knowing she was safe.
That had to be enough.
For now.
I was tying my laces when my phone buzzed on the bench beside me.
For the first time all day, I felt something close to relief. Maybe it was her saying I’m on my way, maybe, just maybe, she was going to show up like always.
But when I picked up the phone, that tiny bit of hope cracked.
My Princess: I finished early. Don’t look out, don’t wait. I’ve decided to wrap up my research here.
My chest tightened instantly.
For a few seconds, I just stared at the screen, waiting for another message.
Something.
A ‘see you around’ or a ‘thank you for letting me shadow’
Anything.
Nothing came. Just those few words. Cold. Clean. Final.
I swallowed hard and dropped the phone on the bench. It landed face down, but I could still feel the echo of it in my head. Don’t look out, don’t wait.
She really was gone.
No more quiet mornings at the bleachers. No more small smiles. No more scribbling down notes while pretending not to notice me watching.
I ran both hands through my hair, tugging hard until it hurt.
“Fuck…” I muttered under my breath.
This was it. This was what I’d been preparing myself for, wasn’t it?
Her leaving. Her finally realising there was nothing left worth staying for. But still, it burned. I should’ve known she’d end it like this.
Clean. Distant.
No room for me to claw my way back in.
So I just sat there, staring at the field, the sound of players warming up echoing around me, and—
I didn’t want to play.
Because what was the point of winning when the one person I wanted to see it… was already gone?
That damn text was still sitting on the bench beside me, screen black now, but it didn’t matter.
The words were branded into my head.
I didn’t even hear Alex walk up.
Just felt the air shift, that familiar weight of him standing a few feet behind me.
The silence stretched until the whistle blew somewhere across the field and broke apart again.
He didn’t say anything.
He just sat down. Dropped onto the bench beside my phone, crossed his arms, and watched.
The bastard was calm.
Calm while I was unravelling.
He leaned forward on his knees, looking out at the players jogging laps.
“Guess that’s it, huh?” he said finally, voice low, almost casual.
No pity in it. No softness. Just fact.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
He sighed. “You really did it this time.”
That one hit deep. Because it wasn’t angry, it was disappointed. The kind of tone only someone who’s seen me at my worst can pull off.
I stared at the grass, jaw tight. “Yeah,” I muttered. “Guess I did.”
Alex glanced over, stretching his arms across the bench. “You know,” he said slowly, “most people learn the first time they destroy something good. You just…keep swinging until there’s nothing left.”
My throat closed.
Alex shrugged, eyes back on the field. “Still—gotta admit, watching you finally lose your shit over a girl?” He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Can’t say it’s not satisfying.”
“Go ahead,” I said quietly. “Say it. I broke her. She’s done with me.”
He didn’t argue. Didn’t disagree.
The silence stretched again until he stood, dusting off his hands.
I knew Alex was right to enjoy the sight, because if I were him, I’d probably enjoy watching me fall apart too.
Alex didn’t even make it ten steps before turning back around; of course he didn’t. He stopped at the edge of the field, hands shoved into his pockets, the winter air catching on his breath.
He looked at me.
“Joshua Maxine Lockhart,” he said quietly, almost like a secret, “cold-ass bastard, likes a soft, sweet girl and fumbled.”
I didn’t move.
Didn’t even blink.
Just let the words hang there, cold and heavy in the air, because what the fuck was I supposed to say?
Alex raised a brow, waiting for me to bite back, to throw one of my usual cold replies.
But there was nothing left to throw. I just looked down at my hands, the same hands that aimed too high, pushed too far, hurt too deep. The same hands that tried to pull her out of the water like I could save her from me.
Cold-ass bastard?
Yeah.
That fits.
Because that’s exactly what I was, cold enough to drive away the only warmth that ever wanted to stay.
And she was soft.
Too soft for me.
The kind of soft that didn’t bend around the edges of a guy like me; it broke against them.
I clenched my jaw, exhaled through my nose.
Then I couldn’t feel his presence anymore; he walked off. And I sat there, the echo of his words wrapping around me like punishment—
Joshua Maxine Lockhart.
Cold-ass bastard.
And yeah, maybe I did like a soft, sweet girl. But I didn’t just fumble her. I fucking dropped her and watched her hit the ground.
I didn’t like anyone. Not once. Not ever. People were loud, messy, temporary, and I learnt early that if you didn’t let them in, they couldn’t leave and take pieces of you with them.
So I didn’t.
I had Alex.
That was enough.
A brother, not by blood but by the same fucked-up understanding of how the world worked. And Jennie, only when Alex dragged her along. She was tolerable, kind in a way I didn’t hate.
But Aurora…
God.
Aurora was everything I’d ever wanted and didn’t even know how to want.
She was quiet, but not empty. Soft, but strong enough to carry every storm that came her way. When she smiled—rare, small, almost shy—it didn’t feel like the world lit up; it felt like I did.
And that terrified me. Because suddenly I was feeling things I didn’t have the language for. Things I didn’t think I was capable of.
Warmth in my chest when she walked into the room. Curiosity when she looked at me like she was trying to understand, not judge. Guilt—deep, ugly guilt—when I made her flinch.
She made me feel.
And I didn’t know how to live with that. Didn’t know how to not destroy the one thing that made me human again.
So I did what I do best… I pushed.
I broke.
I ruined.
And now I’m standing in the aftermath of it, realising too late that the only thing that ever made me feel alive… was the same thing I drove away with my own hands.