Chapter Sixty-Five Aurora #2
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, but it came out strangled.
I took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know he’d be there. He was waiting outside. He looked…I don’t know, tired, sad. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think,” he repeated, voice soft and dangerous.
I flinched. “I didn’t think it would hurt you.”
He looked up then, and for a second, all the anger slipped, replaced by something worse. Something like betrayal.
“You talked to him,” he said quietly, almost whispering now. “You sat with him, didn’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “He invited me to dinner.”
He laughed again, small and bitter. “Of course he did.”
“Joshua, he’s not—”
“Don’t,” he said fast, stepping back. “Don’t tell me he’s not what I know him to be.”
I bit my lip hard. “He’s… different now.”
“Different?”
“He’s trying,” I said softly. “He really is. I can see that he regrets what he did. He still loves your mum. He never remarried. He just—he misses you.”
Joshua’s jaw tightened again. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and his voice cracked low. “You don’t know what he’s like, Aurora.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I know you hate him, and I understand why. But I saw a side of him tonight that you haven’t in a long time. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”
He closed his eyes, breathing hard through his nose. For a long moment, he didn’t move. And then, quieter: “You saw a side of him because he wanted you to.”
My throat stung. “Joshua—”
He looked up at me again, raw and deep. “You don’t understand what he took from me.”
“I do,” I whispered, tears burning behind my eyes. “I do, Josh. But I also saw what it took from him, too.”
That broke something. His expression faltered, torn between the part of him that wanted to stay mad and the part that wanted to believe me.
He didn’t answer. Just turned away, hand gripping the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles went white.
And I stood there, not knowing whether to step closer or give him space.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. My voice cracked halfway through it.
He didn’t answer.
I stared at the floor for a second, then tried again, quieter this time. “I really am. I wasn’t thinking.”
The silence pressed heavily between us. My throat felt tight. “I think… I’ll go to mine tonight,” I said finally, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m sorry again.”
I turned, slowly, already taking a step toward the door—
And then I felt his hand catch my wrist.
Before I could react, he pulled me back gently, until my back hit his chest and his arm slid around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder, the warmth of his breath against my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rough. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“I know,” I said softly, staring at our hands where they rested against my stomach. “I know you didn’t mean to. I just… wanted to give you space. I really didn’t think, Joshua. I wasn’t thinking. I was dumb.”
His arm tightened. “Don’t say that,” he murmured. “You’re not dumb. You weren’t.”
“Then why—”
“I’m not angry with you,” he cut in, voice breaking a little. “I’m angry with him. That you had to see him. That he got to talk to you when I’ve spent years trying not to.”
I turned my head just enough to see him. His eyes looked tired. Not furious anymore. Just tired.
He pressed his forehead lightly against the side of my head. “I don’t want to take it out on you,” he whispered. “I just—seeing him with you made me feel sick. Like he was taking something again. I hate that I made you feel like you did something wrong.”
I exhaled shakily. “I just wanted to help,” I said.
“I know,” he murmured. “You always do.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. His hand slid up, fingers brushing over mine, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist. Then, quieter: “Please don’t go.”
I turned a little more in his arms.
“Don’t leave me alone tonight,” he said. His voice was barely above a whisper now. “Please. I don’t want to sleep without you.”
Something in my chest broke.
I nodded slowly and reached up, placing my hand over the one he still had at my waist. “Okay,” I said softly. “I won’t.”
He exhaled against my shoulder, his body relaxing just enough for me to feel it.
—
We were lying on our sides, facing each other in the dark.
The rain had stopped, but the sound of it still echoed faintly through the windows.
Joshua’s arm was under my pillow, his other hand brushing the loose strands of hair off my cheek.
Every few seconds, his thumb traced along my jaw, as if he was memorising it.
“Please tell me what happened,” he whispered. His voice wasn’t sharp anymore, just tired and honest. “Don’t hide it from me. I’m not mad that you went. I just want to know the truth.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine. He looked so close, so quiet that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.
“He invited me to dinner,” I said softly. “We talked about you. About the empire. He wants you to take over Lockhart Global. He said you could still keep the orphanage, but he doesn’t want that to be the only thing you do. He thinks… he thinks you were made for something bigger.”
Joshua’s fingers paused against my skin. “Of course he does.”
“I know,” I murmured. “But the way he said it, Joshua… it didn’t sound like orders. It sounded like a wish. Like he really wants you to have everything he built, not because he wants control, but because he’s scared he’s going to lose you forever.”
He stared at me for a long time, eyes unreadable. “Do you want me to do that?” he asked finally. His voice was so low it almost disappeared between us. “Do you want me to be that person? Joshua Lockhart. The name, the money, the empire, the CEO everyone looks up to?”
My heart squeezed. “I want you to be what you want to be,” I said. “I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m just here to tell you what he said. That’s all.”
His thumb grazed my cheekbone. “But you’re passing the message,” he said quietly. “That must mean you want me to.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m passing the message because he asked me to. Not because I want to change you.” My throat felt tight. “I love who you are right now. If you never touch that empire, I’ll still love you the same. I’m not doing this for him. I’m just—I’m not going to lie to you.”
He exhaled softly, eyes flickering down to my lips before finding my eyes again. “What else did he say?”
“He said not to push you,” I whispered. “That he doesn’t want me to ruin what we have because of him. He said that you always shut yourself out, that you don’t let people in. You never found relationships interesting, never wanted to love anyone, until me.”
Joshua’s expression shifted. Something small, something fragile.
“And he said,” I went on, my voice barely a whisper now, “he doesn’t want me to let you go. He said that if convincing you hurt us, I shouldn’t do it. But if I can tell you softly, calmly, to at least think about it, then I should. So that’s what I’m doing.”
He didn’t speak for a long time. Just stared at me as if he were seeing something he couldn’t quite understand. Then, finally, he leaned in and kissed my forehead, slow, warm, a little shaky.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against my skin.
I smiled faintly, whispering back, “You do. You really do.”
He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin. His hand stayed at the back of my head, fingers sliding through my hair as he breathed me in. And just before sleep pulled me under, I heard him whisper, quiet, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear it:
“I’ll think about it, Princess. I promise.”