36. Aurora
AURORA
You’d think after a few days the humiliation would stop feeling so fresh.
But if anything, it feels worse now. It’s just there all the time, following me everywhere. Even while I’m in class, which I don’t even realize has ended until I see people around me packing up.
I glance down at my notes, see that they’re completely empty, and close my laptop, shoving it along with my notebook into my bag.
That’s what I’ve done all week, really. Kept moving. Went to class. Even went home for a couple of days and let my mom hold me while I cried. Thought about my dad more than I wanted to. Thought about Cole even more than that.
Mostly I’ve just felt numb. Isabella and Maisie dragged me out the other night because they were tired of me pretending I was fine, and I went because I wanted, for one hour, to feel something that wasn’t sadness.
Anger. Annoyance. Even a hangover. I would’ve taken anything.
And I did enjoy myself for a bit—or tried to.
I danced and drank, and for maybe ten minutes, I didn’t think about how unwanted I am by everyone in my life.
But then I got drunk and cried in the bathroom while they held me.
Which was humiliating, because I’m not like this. I wasn’t broken when I found Chase with another girl. I was furious. Hurt, yeah, but mostly angry.
But with Cole…
God, I was dumb enough to think it would be different.
I just don't understand. I have tried to understand what happened for days, but I don’t.
Everything was fine when I left him that morning.
More than fine. He kissed me and we were supposed to go on a date that night.
And then I came back, and it was like something had shifted in the time between me stepping out of his apartment and knocking on his door again.
Like he’d remembered he hated me. Like whatever softness had been there was gone by the time he looked at me again.
I don’t understand what could have happened in those few hours.
I don’t understand how he went from holding me like I mattered to acting like he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.
Cecilia shoves me out of my thoughts when she turns in her seat and props an elbow on the desk behind her, watching me.
“So,” she says, drawing the word out, tilting her head. “When are you coming back?”
I glance up. “Back where?”
She just lifts her brows, a smirk pulling at her lips.
I sigh and shove the last of my stuff into my bag. “Never. The stripper life is not for me.”
“Really?” Cecilia stands and falls into step beside me as we head for the stairs. “That’s funny, because from where I was standing, you looked like you were having a pretty great time.”
Heat crawls up my neck so fast I stop halfway up the stairs. “Oh my God.”
“A lap dance on your first night is bold.”
I turn to look at her, horrified. “You saw that?”
Cecilia laughs as we head for the door. “Honey, everyone saw that.”
I don’t know why that still makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. Maybe because it feels like another lifetime now. Maybe because so much has changed since then that even thinking about that night makes something in my chest twist.
“He didn’t exactly seem like some random client,” she says, and I feel myself tense before I can stop it. “Who was he?”
I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder and start walking again because I don’t want to stand here and have this conversation.
“You seem very invested in this.”
“I like gossip.”
I roll my eyes. “Shocking.”
She laughs as we step into the main hall, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear when she glances at me.
“Is he the reason you’re not going back?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I just… thought it would make me feel something, and it didn’t.”
She nods slowly, her mouth pressing into a line. “That makes sense.” But then she shrugs. “The money is really good, though.”
That pulls a laugh out of me. “I’m sure that helps.”
“Oh, it helps a lot.”
I let out another laugh, but it dies the second I look up and see Professor Williams across the hall.
My stomach drops as my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag, because even after talking everything through with my mom the other night, even after saying out loud how badly that conversation destroyed me, I still haven’t figured out how to look at him without feeling my heart shatter.
Growing up, there were times I felt disconnected from my mom over this.
I never understood why she shut down every time I asked about my dad, why she always found some way around it.
But when I went home, she finally told me everything.
They dated for a couple of months and he acted really supportive when she got pregnant, but then I was born, and suddenly, he didn’t want to be a father.
Didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t want us.
Even now, I still don’t know what to call him in my head.
He’s my father, technically. Biologically. But dad feels wrong for a man who looked me in the eye and made it very clear he wants nothing to do with me.
His eyes lift and catch on mine, and my heart lurches in my chest because apparently some part of me is still hoping he regrets what he said. Still hoping that now that he knows, he’ll change his mind. That he’ll want me.
But then he just turns his head and looks away, and I feel my heart break all over again.
“Hey.” Cecilia’s voice pulls me back and I blink hard, dragging myself out of it. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. I clear my throat and try again. “I just thought I forgot something.”
She watches me for a second too long, and I know she can tell that’s not true, but whatever she sees on my face must be enough to make her leave it alone.
“I’m gonna head home, but I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I give her a quick smile that probably looks nowhere near convincing and keep my eyes down as I weave through the crowd of people.
All I want is to get out of here. I want to get home so I don’t have to keep my expression under control. My throat still feels tight from seeing him. From that tiny, stupid part of me that lifted for one second when our eyes met and then got crushed all over again when he looked away.
I should be over this by now. I’ve lived twenty years without a dad. I don’t need one now.
My phone buzzes in my bag. I ignore it and keep walking, but it buzzes again a few seconds later.
With a sigh, I stop beside one of the benches and dig through my bag for my phone, thinking it’s probably my mom because she hasn’t stopped checking in since I left.
Instead, it’s a payment notification.
I frown and tap it open, still walking for another step before I come to a stop.
Payment received: $100
From: Cole Ellis
My heart thunders in my chest as my eyes flick down to the message attached.
You were the best thing that’s happened to me, and I destroyed it. I’m so fucking sorry, Aurora.
Before I can even process that, another payment notification slides onto my screen.
Another hundred dollars and another message.
Please unblock me. Yell at me if you want, hate me if you need to, just please don’t shut me out.
Heat rushes up my neck. If he was sorry, he wouldn’t have pushed me away when I was standing right in front of him, wanting him to pull me into his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay.
He wouldn’t have made me feel like an inconvenience—like he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
And if he thinks money fixes anything, then he really never knew me at all.
My thumb hits refund immediately, and I shove my phone back into my bag, my pulse racing as I make my way to my apartment.
But when I climb the stairs and turn into the hallway leading to my apartment, I freeze.
Cole looks up the second he hears me. I’ve been doing my best not to run into him, but I always wondered what it would be like when I finally did.
Whatever I was expecting, it isn’t this.
His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days and that makes my chest pull tight.
His brows pull together. “Hi.”
I try to remind myself he crushed me and I don’t care that he looks wrecked, but my heart still clenches anyway as I look away and fumble for my keys. I just need to get inside.
“Can you please look at me?” he says.
I shove the key in the lock and miss. My hand is shaking so badly that it takes me a second to even line it up again. I can feel him watching me, and that only makes it worse.
When I don’t answer, his voice drops. “Just look at me. Please, Aurora.”
I spin around so fast my bag slips down my shoulder, my breath shaking, every bit of the armor I’ve been forcing into place since that night splitting right down the middle.
“What?” I snap. “What do you want from me, Cole? To throw more money at me? What were those payments even for, some kind of bribe?”
His brows pull together. “You blocked me. It was the only way I could contact you.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking my head.
“You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to show up here after pushing me away when I needed you most.” My voice rises, echoing down the hallway, but I’m too far gone to care.
Let people hear. Let the whole damn building hear.
“What are you even doing here? You want to remind me how we’re done? How I’m worthless to you?”
His jaw clenches as he shakes his head, taking a step closer. “You aren’t worthless to me. I didn’t—”
“Mean it?” I cut in. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before.” I tighten my grip on my keys until the metal bites into my palm. “I’m not listening to your lies anymore. Leave me the fuck alone, Reaper.”
His jaw tightens, but he stays where he is. “Aurora. Just… please. Let me explain.”
“No.” The word comes out shaking because I’m shaking, every part of me wound so tight. “Nothing you say is going to fix this.” I swallow hard, but it does nothing for the ache in my throat. “I hate you.”
The words hit him, and I watch as his face crumples.
He takes a step toward me, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to, but I’m too exhausted to do anything but stand there while he closes the distance and lifts his hands to my face, cupping my cheek.
His thumbs brush away the tears I didn’t even realize had fallen, and the familiarity of his touch hurts so badly it nearly knocks the breath out of me.
“Please don’t hate me,” he says, and I have never heard him sound like this. So wrecked. So desperate. “I can’t take it.”
I choke on a sob, too tired to fight as his lips press against my cheeks, kissing the tears off my face.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean a single word of what I said to you.
” He presses his forehead to mine. “Sophie showed up at my door after you left. She ran from home because my dad hit her.” My stomach twists and I lift my eyes to his.
“Sophie has always been my priority, but then you came into my life and that changed. All I could think about was that she got hurt while I was with you. While I was… happy.”
His thumbs brush over my cheek again, and my chest hurts so badly I can barely breathe through it.
I want to hate him. I want to hold on to the anger because it’s the only thing keeping me standing here.
But all I feel is tired. Hurt. Still wanting him in a way that makes me feel pathetic.
And worse than that, I understand why he did it.
“You hurt me,” I whisper.
He nods immediately, misery written all over his face. “I know.”
“I needed you, and you pushed me away,” I say, each word scraping on the way out. “You made me feel like I was nothing to you. Like I was just someone you fucked until you got bored.”
His hands shake against my skin. “You’re not nothing to me. You’re everything, and that scared the hell out of me.”
God, I want to believe him. I want to let him pull me into his arms and stop fighting this, stop fighting how far gone I already am for him.
But I can’t be that stupid again.
I step back and pull his hands from my face. He lets them fall to his sides, his brows drawing together like he already knows what I’m about to say and hates it.
“I can’t…” My voice breaks and I hate that it does. “I just can’t, Cole. I can’t be that girl who gets hurt over and over and keeps going back like an idiot.”
He doesn’t try to stop me. He just stands there looking at me, and if I stay one second longer, I know I’ll fold. So I turn, shove my door open, and step inside.
The second it closes behind me, I lean back against it and squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in my hands.
I wanted so badly to let him hold me.
But I can’t let myself get hurt again.
Not by him. Not by anybody.
I really don’t think I’d survive it.