2. Aurora
AURORA
Pride is a funny thing.
I wanted Cole Ellis to be wrong about Chase. Wanted it so badly I forced myself to believe things that never quite added up. The distance, the missed calls, the halfhearted texts that always came hours late, the way Chase’s attention seemed to slip away whenever we were actually together.
When my phone sat silent for days, I blamed practice. When his answers went short and cold, I told myself he was tired or busy.
Everyone said long distance was hard. You had to adjust, compromise, trust. That’s what I told myself every time my gut twisted at the little things he brushed off.
If I’m being honest, I trusted him because I needed to. Because if Cole was right about Chase, that meant I’d been an idiot for months. It meant I ignored every flag, every gut feeling, every instinct that screamed this isn’t right.
I’m not sure what’s worse. The idea that Chase played me, or the possibility that Cole knows me better than I want him to.
And now here I am. In the doorway of Chase’s room, clutching a bottle of his favorite whiskey, watching my boyfriend fuck another girl.
Our three-year anniversary. That’s what today was supposed to be.
Three years.
I wore a new dress, shaved every single part of my body, spent so long practicing how to surprise him, and this is what I get.
I’m frozen in place, my eyes snagging on his shirt pooled on the floor beside her dress. His bare ass as he thrusts into her. His moans. The familiar, ugly sound of them—the same ones he’s made a hundred times for me.
It takes them five seconds to notice me standing here. Long enough for something in my chest to twist tight before the hurt burns away and something hotter takes its place.
“Shit,” Chase mutters, scrambling to shove the girl off his lap, covering himself with a pillow. His eyes—those stupid blue eyes I loved—go wide when he finally realizes I’m standing at the door. “Aurora—”
The girl scrambles for the sheet, yanking it up to cover herself, her cheeks going bright red as her eyes dart between us. They’re wide, panicked, a flicker of guilt swimming in them. I can’t tell if she even knows who I am.
Did he tell her he was single? Did he bother mentioning my name at all? Or maybe she knew and just didn’t care.
Not sure which one’s worse.
I swallow hard, shame and bile burning at the back of my throat, and one thought keeps pounding through my head.
Cole was right. He warned me. And I laughed in his face. Told him he didn’t know what he was talking about.
God, I’d give anything to be anywhere but here right now.
Chase just looks annoyed he got caught, not even bothering to fake an apology.
Not for the girl half-naked beside him, not for the fact he was inside someone else ten seconds ago.
Meanwhile I’m still standing in the doorway, clutching a bottle of his favorite whiskey like an absolute idiot—stuck in the moment when I thought surprising my boyfriend on our third anniversary was a good idea and ended up looking like an idiot.
Two minutes ago, I walked through the door of his off-campus house with a stupid smile on my face.
I stepped through the crowd until I found Kian—one of his teammates—and asked where Chase was, and he told me he was upstairs.
But the way he said it should have tipped me off.
He could barely look at me, hesitating for a few seconds before finally letting the words out.
I should’ve known something was up. Should’ve listened to the tight knot in my chest, the way my gut twisted, and walked away.
But I went anyway. I climbed the stairs and walked straight into the moment my whole life split in half.
I don’t know how long I stand there, just taking it in. The sheets tangled around their legs, the other girl scrambling for her shirt.
“I—I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she blurts, her voice shaking as her eyes flick between me and Chase.
I don’t answer. I can’t even move. My ears are ringing and my body feels like it belongs to someone else.
I must look like a ghost. I don’t even turn my head as she scurries past me and slips out the door.
I’m still standing there, clutching the bottle like an idiot while heat crawls up my neck and my chest feels tight enough to crack.
Chase lets out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. “What are you even doing here?”
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. “Are you serious?”
“You should’ve called,” he says, throwing his hands up. “Or texted. I didn’t know you were coming.”
My hand tightens around the bottle. “Why? So you could hide the fact you’re screwing someone else?” My chest feels tight, like I can’t get a full breath. “It’s our three-year anniversary, asshole. I came to surprise you.”
I realize, as the humiliation increases tenfold, that he completely forgot about our anniversary, given the shocked expression on his face.
I let out a bitter laugh, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. “What a great anniversary gift, Chase. Walking in on you fucking someone else in your own bed. Really outdid yourself this year.”
His jaw goes tight, eyes flicking to the door, worried someone might overhear. “Don’t make a scene,” he snaps.
“How long?” My voice shakes and I hate that it does. He meets my eyes, but doesn’t answer. I tighten my grip on the bottle, heat prickling at the back of my neck. “How long have you been sleeping with other girls while I was stupid enough to trust you?”
His jaw clenches and his gaze drops away. He doesn’t even have the guts to look at me.
“One year?” I bite out, my voice rising. He says nothing. “Two?” The numbers come out through clenched teeth. “Three?”
He shrugs. That’s all I get—a shrug.
When he finally speaks, he doesn’t even look ashamed. “You’re not here. You’re over a thousand miles away. What do you expect me to do?”
Nausea climbs up my throat, burning through the anger for a second. “I don’t know, Chase. Maybe keep your dick in your pants for five minutes. Or at least have the decency to end things before you screw the next girl.”
“Dude… that’s fucked up.”
I turn at the voice behind me, my heart pounding when I realize we’re not alone. A crowd has gathered in the doorway, his teammates and a bunch of strangers, people who don’t know me but will remember me as the girl who got cheated on.
Heat floods my face, filling every inch of me until my hands start to shake. I want to scream, to break something, to wipe the pity off their faces, but all I do is stand there with my chest heaving, trying hard not to fall apart.
My grip tightens around the bottle of whiskey I hunted down at three different stores and I look back at Chase, at the bored, empty look on his face, and something in me finally snaps.
I don’t even think before I slam the bottle against the edge of his desk. Glass shatters across the floor and people behind me gasp at the sound.
I barely register them. All I see is Chase. All I can think about is him making a fool out of me by sleeping with another girl on our anniversary.
His eyes widen as the neck of the bottle splinters in my hand, whiskey sloshing over my knuckles and onto the floor.
I hurl what’s left of it at his chest. The smell hits instantly as the whiskey splashes across his shirt, his chest, his lap. He flinches, jerking back on the bed, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Fuck you,” I spit, tossing the empty bottle to the floor.
I turn on my heel and push through the doorway, brushing past the open-mouthed crowd. I walk past the girl who was in Chase’s bed, still fumbling with her jeans.
By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, the music is gone.
The whole house is dead silent, every head turned my way.
Heat floods up my neck and into my cheeks, prickling under my skin.
I stop short, those wide eyes making it crystal clear everyone heard.
Everyone knows exactly what just happened upstairs.
A guy I don’t recognize leans in, his mouth curving into a slow, crooked grin. “He was an idiot,” he says, lifting his cup to his lips while his eyes drag over me. “If you wanna get back at him, I’m game.”
I don’t bother answering. I just roll my eyes and push past him, weaving through the crowd without looking left or right until I finally reach the front door.
I suck in a breath when I step outside, the cold air burning my lungs as I make my way to the bus stop. I tug my jacket tighter around me while I wait. By the time I finally make it home three hours later, I’m exhausted, drained, and still so angry.
The minute I get inside, I let the door slam behind me, my keys hitting the console with a clatter that makes Isabella jump, nearly dropping her phone as she sits curled up on the couch.
Her brows lift. “You’re home earl—” She cuts herself off the second she really looks at me. Her expression shifts and she sits up straighter, her brows pulling together. “Oh shit. What happened?”
I kick off my boots in the entryway, drop my bag by the door, and for a second, I can’t even answer. I just stand there, willing myself not to fall apart in the doorway.
“Cole was right,” I finally manage, the words feeling like nails scraping through my throat.
Isabella blinks, her brows shooting up. “There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear. What was he right about?”
I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut. “Chase.”
“Wait—like—”
“Yes.” I lift my head, but can barely even look at her.
Her jaw drops. “Oh my god. He cheated on you?”
“I feel like such an idiot.” I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me.
She shoots me a look, her eyes full of pity. God, I hate that. “You’re not. He’s the idiot.”
“Three years,” I say, dropping onto the couch beside her, my body sinking deep into the cushions, feeling so tired.
“Three fucking years we were together. I knew something was off and I still defended him. To you. To Cole. I kept making excuses for him.” I let out a breath, staring at the floor. “Mostly I was lying to myself.”
She doesn’t say anything, just pulls her knees up and scoots closer, pressing her shoulder to mine.
I let out a short laugh, my fists tightening in the blanket she draped over my legs.
“The worst part is Cole’s going to find out he was right about Chase.
He’s never going to let me live it down.
I can already see that smug smirk.” I tip my head back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Honestly, I’d rather get back with Chase than admit to Cole’s face that he was right. ”
Isabella finally cracks a faint smile, shaking her head. “Please don’t do that. That would definitely make you an idiot.”
“I won’t.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye. “Chase is dead to me.”
She studies me for a moment, her brows knitting together. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, the words catching in my throat. “No,” I admit, too tired to pretend otherwise. “I’m angry. I’m embarrassed. I want to scream and break things and—” My voice wobbles just enough that I have to clench my fists, my knuckles turning white.
Isabella scoots closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a sideways hug. I lean into her, letting my head drop, fighting the urge to cry.
“He didn’t even look guilty,” I whisper after a minute. “He just looked pissed that I showed up. Like I was the one who ruined his night.”
“Then he’s even worse than you thought,” Isabella says. “You deserve so much better, Rory.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my arms wrapping tight around my middle. For a few minutes we just sit there, side by side, neither of us saying anything.
I defended Chase. Lied for him. Fought with Cole over him. Traded friends, weekends, all that trust for him. For what? Just to end up here with nothing to show for it but the gut punch I should’ve seen coming.
I can practically hear Cole’s voice in the back of my head.
I told you so.
And God, I hate that he was right.