Chapter Fifty-Seven Joshua / Aurora #2
I shook my head weakly, my voice muffled. “He’s not coming back.”
He exhaled, the sound rough. “Aurora,” he said quietly, “listen to me.”
I did. Because for once, it wasn’t the voice of Joshua’s best friend, it was someone who had seen the worst of both of us.
“You said you love him, right?”
My breath caught, but I nodded. “I—I do.”
“Then chase him.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
Alex straightened a little, expression firm. “If he doesn’t come back to you, you go to him. Chase him.”
I blinked, confused. “But he—he told me to leave him alone—”
“Joshua says a lot of things he doesn’t mean,” Alex cut in, his voice low but certain. “He listens to everyone else more than he listens to himself, especially when it comes to you. He thinks walking away is protecting you, but he’s wrong. You want him?”
My throat felt tight. “Yes.”
“Then prove it,” he said simply. “Force yourself in if you have to. He won’t stop you.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
He leaned in closer, tone soft but determined. “You can. You just have to show him that you still want him, that he didn’t lose you completely. Because that’s what he’s scared of, Aurora. Losing you. He’ll never push you away if you show him you’re not scared of him anymore.”
I stared at him, heart pounding.
“Chase him, Aurora.” His voice softened, but his eyes remained fierce. “He won’t back you down. Not if you show him that you still want him. Not if you remind him what he’s fighting for.”
Alex stood, brushing the grass off his pants, and reached down to help me up. “You’ve both been miserable long enough,” he said. “So go get him back.”
—
Friday.
The last day before break.
I’d spent most of this week alone.
Sometimes Alex would join, sit across from me with his laptop, barely speaking. We didn’t need to. His quiet company was enough. It made the silence less unbearable.
But today…Aly came.
She found me between shelves, half-hidden behind my psychology notes.
“Hey,” she said softly.
I looked up, startled. She looked nervous; Aly never looked nervous.
“Can I sit?” she asked, already pulling out the chair before I could answer.
I nodded.
She sat, elbows on the table, chin resting in her palms. “You’ve been avoiding us.”
“I just needed space,” I murmured.
“I know,” she said quickly, eyes flicking down. “And we deserved that. I just…I don’t want us to ruin what we have. The four of us.”
My chest tightened. I hadn’t meant to push them away; I loved them. They were my home before Joshua ever was.
I reached out slowly, touching her wrist. “You didn’t ruin anything, Aly. I just—I needed time. But I still love you all. That hasn’t changed.”
Her lips parted in relief, eyes softening. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Something in her posture eased, and she gave me that small, lopsided Aly smile, the kind that always made things feel normal again.
Then she sighed and leaned forward, voice lower.
“Chase him.”
I blinked. “What?”
She smirked faintly. “Joshua. Chase him.”
My heart stuttered.
“I mean it,” she said. “If you want him, go get him. Be shameless. Love isn’t always quiet, Rora. Sometimes you have to make noise for it.”
I stared at her, at this confident, fiery girl who never sugar-coated anything, and all I could think was that Alex said the same thing.
Alex, calm and logical, had told me to chase.
Now Aly, bold and untamed, was saying it too.
They didn’t even talk to each other, not nicely at least, but somehow they said the same thing.
“Be shameless,” Aly repeated, smiling wider now. “Don’t wait for him to fix it. Show him you still want him. Guys like him? They need to see it. Feel it. And I swear to God, Aurora, he’ll never push you away if you do.”
I looked down at my trembling hands, her words echoing Alex’s perfectly. If it’s still silent by next week, chase him.
I looked up at her and smiled, small but real. “Thank you, Aly.”
I will.
I promise, I will.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Aurora / Joshua
Aurora
Three days.
Three whole days of silence.
Not a text. Not a call. Not a glimpse of him anywhere. It’s as if he were hiding from me, like he didn’t want to see me.
It was 9:07 p.m.
The lights in my room were dim, the curtains half drawn, and I sat cross-legged on my bed in my stupid little pyjamas, soft white shorts, an oversized t-shirt, hair falling loose in my messy bun. I was supposed to be asleep. I wanted to be asleep.
But my body wouldn’t let me rest.
It kept moving, kept fidgeting, pacing, standing up, sitting down again, because if I stayed still long enough, I’d start crying.
My chest ached as if someone had reached in and twisted it. I pressed my palm there, trying to make it stop, but the pain just pulsed harder.
I missed him.
Aly’s voice replayed in my head.
Be shameless, Rora. Go get him.
Then Alex’s.
If he doesn’t come back, chase him.
Chase.
Chase.
Chase.
The word kept echoing, like a heartbeat I couldn’t slow down.
I got up before I could talk myself out of it. Grabbed my phone and my keycard. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped everything, but I forced myself toward the door anyway.
The hallway was cold when I stepped out.
The elevator was even colder.
Every floor between mine and his felt like forever.
Maybe he wouldn’t answer.
Maybe he’d shut the door in my face again.
But I couldn’t stay quiet anymore.
I’d rather have him reject me to my face than spend another night wondering if he still thought of me, if he still missed me like I missed him.
So I whispered it under my breath, a mantra, a prayer, a promise—
“Chase.”
And I pressed the button for his floor.
—
Joshua
The knock on my penthouse door was soft, hesitant, but the second I opened it, I froze.
Aurora.
Her eyes were wide, unsure, but she was here. Here, in my space. After everything I said to her, she came back to me. All those cruel words I spat at her, she didn’t listen. Didn’t stay away. The sharp daggers I threw at her, telling her I never wanted to see her again, she still came.
I stepped aside slowly, almost regretting letting her back in, especially after I promised myself I would keep her away… away from someone like me.
She walked in, clutching her phone to her chest like a shield, but her lips parted, trembling, as if she were trying to say something.
I shut the door, heart hammering, and pulled her closer by the wrist before I could stop myself. “Why are you here?” My voice came out low, dangerous, as if I already knew the answer.
Her eyes darted, panic flashing, lips opening and closing as though words fought to escape. “I…I—” her lips trembled as her nails dug deep into her palms.
I shifted my hand down from her wrist. “You’re hurting yourself,” I whispered, pulling her fingers away from her palm, intertwining them with mine.
“J-Joshua—”
Oh fuck.
The sound tore me apart. My whole body stiffened, blood roaring in my ears. She said it, my fucking name. The only thing in the world I would drop to my knees for, she fucking said it.
“Fuck—don’t,” I rasped, pressing my forehead against her neck, trying to breathe. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what it does to me.”
Her hands gripped my shirt tightly, knuckles white, as if she didn’t want me to pull away. Her silence used to kill me, but hearing my name fall from her lips? It was like gasoline to a fire. It made me physically tremble against her.
I inhaled her scent, my lips ghosting over her throat. Testing. Waiting for her to push me away.
She didn’t. Fuck me, she didn’t even move.
“You don’t get it, Aurora,” I whispered against her skin. “Every time I looked at you, every time you walked away from me, I had to chain myself not to touch you like this.”
Her grip on my shirt tightened, pulling me closer instead of away. “Please, d-don’t let me go.” Her voice cracked slightly as I felt her arching towards me.
That was it. The moment I broke.
I kissed her.
Not soft. Not careful. I kissed her as if the world were ending and she were the only thing keeping me upright. Like if I didn’t, I’d split open from the wanting.
My hand came up to her jaw without permission, thumb pressing in too hard, mouth crashing into hers like an apology I didn’t know how to say.
She froze for half a second.
And then—fuck—she kissed me back.
Not hesitant. Not unsure. Her lips moved with mine as if she’d been waiting, as if she’d already made the decision weeks ago and I was the one lagging behind.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, pulling me closer, and it felt like permission, even if I never asked for it.
God.
I shouldn’t have done it. I knew that even as I did it. Knew it as my chest burned and my heart slammed against my ribs, as if it was trying to escape me. The taste of her nearly knocked me to my knees.
Then it hit me.
Everything I’d done.
Everything I’d said.
Every word that made her walk away.
I tore myself back.
Physically. Like ripping my hands off a live wire.
“Fuck—” I stumbled back a step, my whole body shaking so violently I couldn’t hide it. My forehead dropped to her shoulder, breath coming out in broken gasps, fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeve as if I needed to anchor myself to something solid.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m—fuck—I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t push me away. Her hands hovered, unsure, as if she was scared I’d disappear if she touched me wrong.
“I didn’t mean to,” I said, voice wrecked. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to cross that line. I swear to you, Aurora, I didn’t—”
I swallowed hard—fuck. I ruined it, I fucking ruined it.
She leaned back just enough to catch my face between her hands.
I couldn’t look at her. I physically couldn’t. My eyes stayed fixed somewhere over her shoulder, anywhere but her, shame sitting so heavy in my chest it felt like it might cave me in.
Her thumbs brushed my cheeks, anyway. Gentle. Careful. Like she was afraid I’d flinch.
Then she leaned in, nudged her nose against mine.
Soft. Familiar. Ruinous.
“Don’t,” she whispered.