Epilogue
Joshua
I was buried in work and emails about reopening the orphanage, laptop open, trying to focus on something that wasn’t her. But of course, with Aurora in the house, that was impossible. I heard the soft sound of her slippers first, padding across the marble floor. Then her voice—
“Joshua.”
I looked up, and everything in my brain short-circuited.
Holy fuck—
She had her hair down in loose waves, the prettiest sundress I’d ever seen in my life. It was light yellow with little white flowers, and she had that signature soft, shy smile that knocked the air right out of me plastered on her face.
My mouth went dry.
“Yeah, Princess?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a familiar black card, tapping it gently against the edge of my desk. “You left this in my wallet.”
I blinked. “No, I gave you that.”
She tilted her head. “Joshua.”
“Aurora,” I mimicked her tone, leaning back in my chair.
Her brows furrowed in that adorable way, as if she were torn between lecturing me and laughing. “You can’t just—”
“Give my girlfriend a card with no limit?” I cut in. “Yeah, I can. It’s called spoiling you.”
She sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “I have a job now, remember? Your aunt’s husband hired me for that remote research thing.”
“I remember,” I said, smirking as I pointed at her sundress. “But that? That’s what I want you to buy more of.”
She blinked. “This?”
I nodded slowly, eyes dragging over her. “Exactly that. Because you look so fucking beautiful, Princess.”
Her cheeks flushed immediately, just the way I liked them.
“Joshua,” she muttered, trying not to smile, and I shrugged, closing my laptop and standing up.
“What? You do,” I said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “You’re going to the mall with Aly, right?”
She nodded.
“Good. Spend it,” I said, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Everything and anything you want, okay? Treat yourself.”
I gave her a kiss.
“Don’t look at the price, just swipe.”
That got a laugh out of her, soft and bright, the sound that filled every empty space I used to have.
She slipped the black card back into her purse, still smiling. “Fine. But only because you said so.”
I grinned. “That’s my girl.”
—
I parked across the entrance and killed the engine, but I didn’t step out. I just sat there with my hands loose on the wheel, watching the steady stream of people spill out of the mall doors.
Then I saw her.
Aurora walked out with her head dipped slightly, eyes glued to her phone, sunlight catching in her hair as if it was trying to keep her for itself. My chest did that stupid, familiar tightening thing it only ever did around her.
Beautiful girl.
I reached for my phone before I could overthink it and hit her contact.
Through the windshield, I watched her slow down. Her brows pulled together in that tiny crease she got when she was confused. Her lips curved when she saw my name; she answered, lifting the phone to her ear.
“Joshua?”
I smiled. “Look up,” I said. “Left.”
She turned immediately, scanning, and then she spotted the car.
Her entire face lit up.
Not a polite smile. Not a small one. A full, unguarded grin that hit me square in the ribs. She started toward me without hesitation, half walking, half jogging, tote bag bouncing against her side as if she couldn’t get there fast enough.
I unlocked the door just before she reached it. She slid into the seat, bringing summer air with her.
“You’re so early,” she said.
“I missed you,” I replied simply, pulling back into traffic
Her finger toyed with the edge of her tote. I glanced down at it.
“That’s all you got?”
She blinked, reached inside, and pulled out a single book, holding it up proudly, “A book.”
I stared at it. Then at her. “I gave you a card with no limit.”
“I know.”
“That’s it?”
She nodded, completely serious. “That’s it.”
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. Not because it was funny, but because I was her. Because she could’ve bought half of the building and walked out with one single book like she’d won.
I shook my head, reaching over to squeeze her thigh. “You’re so cute.”
She smiled, cheeks turning pink.
Traffic hummed around us. The sky was dipping into gold, the city softening into evening. I let the silence stretch, comfortable, full instead of empty. Months ago, I would’ve filled it with work, with noise, with anything that wasn’t this.
Now I just drove.
“I’m stealing you for dinner.”
She grinned, bright and easy. “You already stole me.”