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“You know I always draw a lot of consolation from the fact that even if I do end up in hell, I certainly won’t be lonely. Bastards like you will be right next to me. Let’s go. The table awaits.”
Later that night, when I step out of the meeting room, it’s with a new title and the realization that I have finally succeeded in getting what I want. Oddly enough, she’s the first person I want to talk to. Adrian tries to speak to me once we leave the room, but I ignore him in favor of getting to Aurora.
She’s in one of the several offices in this house, writing something in a notebook. The door is open, so I simply walk in. She looks up at me when I do, golden brown eyes gliding over my frame. She doesn’t speak for a couple of moments and neither do I. We simply observe each other until I break the silence.
“What are you up to?” I question.
She shrugs. “Just drawing out some plans.”
I step forward until I’m standing in front of the chair she’s in. “Can I see?”
She hesitates for only a second before handing me the notebook. I flip through the designs. Room layouts, furniture placements. It’s all incredibly vibrant and realistic.
“You didn’t go to art school,” I state, the thought suddenly crossing my mind.
Her lips thin. “No, Nico, I didn’t study art. It was always just a hobby, not something I was planning on doing seriously with my life.”
“But you considered it. So why didn’t you go through with it?” I prompt. “Come on, Aurora. You can tell me.”
She looks away, running a hand through her hair. “Because it wasn’t feasible or realistic. When we left, it was just Lucia and I. I had no idea what the future held, and I wasn’t sure art was the right way to go in order for me to become successful. I chose a clearer path, and it paid off.”
There’s probably something else that she’s not telling me, but I’m not in the position to push.
“I get that,” I tell her gently. “You did your best, mi vida.”
I’m genuinely proud of the choices she made to get to where she is today. Maybe one day I’ll tell her that. She relaxes slightly, looking back into my eyes.
“I’m guessing you’re Don now,” she states when I don’t speak again. “How does it feel?”
I think about that for a moment before shrugging.
“How do you think it feels?”
“I hope it makes you happy. Especially considering how much you sacrificed to get to this point,” she says softly.
Her words have the intended effect. They feel like a punch to my gut. I hate it when she says shit like that, clearly meant to hurt me. It makes me want to hurt her in return.
“Our wedding is in two weeks,” I inform her, moving on because I don’t want to dwell on what she said.
She shrugs. “Okay.”
“Last chance to back out.”
“Why would I do that? It’s not like it’s going to be real. Nothing I’ve ever shared with you is real.”
My chest tightens, and I step forward.
“Take that back.” I glare at her.
She lifts her chin, expression resolute. “No. I meant what I said.”
“You know, one of these days, you’ll be honest with me about what you really feel.”
“I doubt that.”
“Make sure to pick a pretty wedding dress, Aurora. Fake or not, I’ll make sure this will be your last chance to wear one.”
Her eyes widen. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
