Music Recommendation: History Of Man - Maisie Peters.
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"Aurora,"
Aurora froze at the sound of the cold yet soft voice calling her name. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. Even without looking, she could feel the weight of his presence—the same presence that had ignored her for so long.
It was almost laughable how easily he could switch between two versions of himself. Around others, he was distant, indifferent. But when they were alone, the edge in his voice softened, as if he hadn't spent years pretending she didn't matter.
Footsteps approached, measured and deliberate. He was close now, standing right behind her. Aurora clenched her fists so tightly that she thought she might break something.
"It's cold," Tim murmured, his tone laced with quiet concern. "Yes, it's an evening dinner, but you shouldn't have worn this." As he spoke, he removed his suit jacket and took a step forward, intent on draping it over her shoulders.
She recoiled, stepping back and meeting his gaze—her green eyes locking onto his unreadable blue ones. "Don't," she choked out. "Don't touch me. Not today, not ever."
Tim swallowed hard. "You're pale."
"I know." Her voice trembled, betraying the exhaustion of the past few days. "Your presence makes me sick."
Tim ran a hand through his hair, his composure barely holding. "At least let me drive you home. I'll explain everything."
Aurora let out a bitter laugh, the audacity of his offer stinging more than the cold air around them. "Home?" she repeated, voice thick with pain. "That was never a home to me." Her breath hitched, and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold in the agony. "You never made it feel like home. And now, you expect me to stay there and watch you—watch you marry my sister?"
Tim remained silent, his blue eyes void of emotion. No remorse. No regret.
How could he stand there so calmly, as if they hadn't spent three years together? As if she hadn't given him everything?
"You lied to me," Aurora continued, her voice breaking. "You said you were going on a business trip. A business trip with my sister?" A sob escaped before she could stop it. "I held on, believing three years might change you."
Tim's jaw tightened, but still, he said nothing.
His silence cut deeper than any words ever could.
She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, forcing out a shaky breath. "Say something, Tim," she challenged, barely above a whisper. "Tell me I meant nothing. Tell me it was all a lie so I can finally let go."
His lips parted, but no words came. The hesitation was an answer in itself.
Aurora scoffed, shaking her head. "Of course. You can't even give me that."
Tim took another step forward, his jacket still in hand, as if shielding her from the cold could undo the damage he had done. "Aurora, I—"
"No." She cut him off, stepping back once more.
Each movement away from him felt heavier, like she was carrying the weight of every broken promise.
Every "I love you" she whispered behind him, hoping he'll one day return it turned to dust. Her vision blurred, but she refused to crumble. Not in front of him. Not after everything.
"Aurora—"
His voice cracked—raw in a way she had never heard before. But she didn't turn back. She couldn't.
He didn't deserve her pain.
The world around her faded. The distant laughter from the dinner party in her family house, the hum of the city, the glow of the streetlights—it all blurred into the background. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the echo of his betrayal.
Three years.
Three years of stolen kisses, late-night confessions whispered into the dark. All her dreams built around him just crumbled.
Three years of believing she might one day be his only one.
And yet, here she was, walking away from the man she had once thought was her forever, while he stood there silent—watching, but not stopping her.
Was it guilt that held him still? Or was this just another cruel game he played so well?
A sob tore through her, and she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "Damn you, Tim," she whispered, voice shaking.
Damn him for making her believe.
Damn him for making her love him.
Reaching the edge of the street, she halted as a car passed, its headlights shinning on her tear-streaked face. The cold had settled deep into her bones.
Then, suddenly, warmth.
Not his. Never his again.
A hand touched her shoulder—gentle, hesitant. Not possessive, not demanding. A different kind of warmth.
Aurora turned, expecting a stranger offering pity, but her breath caught at the sight before her.
Liam.
His brows furrowed, his eyes filled with something unspoken—concern, understanding… something else. Something deeper. Something she had been too blind to see before.
"Aurora," he said, voice steady. "Come on, let's get you out of here."
And for the first time, she let herself lean into the warmth he offered. She threw herself into his arms, and buried her face into his chest.
Not because she needed saving.
But because, for the first time in years, she didn't want to stand in the cold alone.
The weight of the night pressed down on her, the ache still lingering, but the worst part wasn't the pain—it was the emptiness. The space where Tim used to be. The space she had filled with hope and lies for far too long.
Liam wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his nose on her hair. His hands rubbed her back softly.
Aurora parted the hug, and dared one last glance over her shoulder.
Tim stood still, jacket still in hand, watching her go. But he didn't move. Didn't call out her name.
That was answer enough.
Aurora swallowed hard and turned away. She wouldn't be weak. Not for him. Not anymore.
Liam walked beside her, steady but never overbearing. When they reached his car, he opened the door without a word. She hesitated, fingers gripping the cold metal for balance, for something to hold on to.
"Where do you want to go?" Liam asked, voice calm, careful.
Aurora closed her eyes for a moment. Where did she want to go? Home? That place had never been home. Not with her sister waiting to step into the life she had been cast out of.
"Anywhere but back," she whispered.
Liam nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant.
The engine rumbled to life, and as the city lights blurred past, she let her head rest against the window. She stole a glance at Liam, wondering where he went, and how he always managed to appear when she needed him.
For the first time in forever, she wasn't waiting for Tim to love her.
She wasn't waiting for an explanation.
She wasn't waiting to be chosen.
She was just… leaving.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.