“Food, Margot,” Jonathan says while breezing past her. “Leave it in front of my room.”

He doesn’t wait for her reply as he ascends the stairs, not caring about the weight he’s carrying. He really doesn’t have the stamina of an old man. I can only imagine what he was like young.

Or not.

That means imagining him with Alicia, and I feel so guilty towards her right now. I feel so guilty for wanting her husband for myself. For feeling safe with him like I never have with another human being.

He’s like the fortress inside of which I know nothing will come near me, let alone hurt me.

In the room, Jonathan lowers me to my feet and peels the jacket off me, then throws it behind him. “Those fuckers.”

“Jonathan…”

“Not a word, Aurora. I won’t stand by as they do this to you.”

“No, I meant…what you said earlier. Why did you?”

“What part?”

“The part about how I’m your fiancée?”

He raises a brow. “Aren’t you?”

“W-what?”

His expression remains blank, and I hate that I can’t see past it. “You are, in a way.”

“No. We had a deal, remember? I only have a few weeks left here, then each of us will go our own way. There certainly was no fiancée clause in there.” Even as I say the words, my throat closes around the part where we’ll separate.

Jonathan watches me for a beat too long, which makes me fidget. When he finally speaks, his voice is lethal, “Is that what you think?”

“That’s what it is. It’s what we agreed on.” I don’t know why I keep emphasising the point I hate. All I want is an explanation for the whole fiancée thing and why the hell he brought it up in front of the press.

It could be a camouflage tactic recommended by his solicitor, or even Harris. No clue why I’m mentioning the forgotten agreement. Maybe I want confirmation of it, because I sure as shit am starting to forget it exists. And when I do remember it, my stomach sinks at how little time there is left.

Jonathan continues his unreadable study of my face. I hate his closed features so much right now. Of all times, he can’t seal himself from me now.

“Huh.”

That’s it? Huh. What is that supposed to mean?

I see?

I agree?

It’s nothing?

We should talk about this?

Before I can ask him just that, he points at the bathroom. “Take a bath, then eat. You have to begin preparing for your trial with Alan starting tomorrow.”

Then he turns around and strides to the exit with his usual confident steps. The door closes behind him with painful finality.

My heart falls to my feet as I watch where he stood only seconds ago. He’ll return, right? He’ll just make calls, as usual, listen to Harris’s snobbish voice, and come back.

Right?

Refusing to think of the alternative, I drag my heavy feet to the bathroom and take a shower instead of a bath. It feels wrong to take a bath without him doing it for me.

Margot brings me supper and I barely manage to take a few spoonfuls of soup. Again, it’s weird to eat without Jonathan either sitting me on his lap or staring at me across the table with that raised brow so I’ll eat.

When I’m finished, I lie in bed and read Layla’s texts to distract myself from Jonathan’s scent that’s surrounding me like a vice.

The fact that he’s not here yet causes my stomach to dip.

Layla: Mate! Guess what? Jake the piece of S turned himself in.

My eyes widen.

Aurora: Jake, as in the accountant Jake, who stole our funds and ran off to Australia?

Layla: Uh-huh. That Jake. Jessica was notified a few hours ago about how he turned himself in. He spent the funds, but at least we’ll have our justice.

Aurora: But…how?

Layla: No clue, but I heard he was coerced into it. Whoever did it, I love him.

Jonathan.

This has his fingerprints all over it. This must be what he talks about with Harris in private, not wanting me to hear.

My heart aches at that realisation. He’s been searching for Jake all this time and finally made him pay.

The need to go to him and thank him, kiss him, hug him, hits me like a ton of bricks.

Layla: Anyway, enough about that sucker. Don’t think I didn’t see the news. Since when are you engaged to Johnny?

Layla: I need details, mate. And I’m totes not jealous that you have a Daddy and I don’t. *crying emoji*

I smile, but it’s sad at best. Layla doesn’t know that I might’ve ruined this entire thing with him altogether.

After we’re done texting, I toss and turn all night in bed.

Jonathan doesn’t return.

 

 

25

 

 

Jonathan

 

 

A deal.

She said we had a deal.

A fucking deal.

I grip my phone so tightly, I’m surprised it doesn’t crack into pieces. I’m even more surprised that I’m able to function after the whole fucking show that happened today.

While I was planning the future Aurora and I will have together after the drama with Maxim ends, she’s been thinking about the fucking deal.

As in, during all the months we spent together, her sole purpose has been to leave me.

Running is constantly the first thing on her mind no matter what I do.

It doesn’t matter if I paint the world gold for her or if I pluck the bloody stars from the sky and scatter them at her feet. She’ll just step over them and run.

Like she always does.

Like she has been doing for the past eleven years.

But here’s the thing. She didn’t have me in the past. She didn’t belong to me body and soul. I don’t care how much her heart fights me, it’ll eventually crumble like the rest of her.

Will it, though?

I was never one to receive affection. Being incapable of it turned me into a solid wall against it. Even my own mother didn’t think I needed such a thing. To make it even worse, Alicia completely withdrew from me and my own son cares more about challenging me than anything else.

Why would Aurora be any different?

That isn’t the problem, though. The problem is that I want her to be different when I never wished for it in my entire existence.

“Where to, sir?” Moses asks from the front seat.

“The headquarters,” Harris says on my behalf. He followed us here after the media show and was about to leave for a meeting when I told him I’d join.

He has barely stared at his tablet for the last minute. That’s a record.

“Didn’t you say you’re staying in for today?” he asks slowly, almost cautiously. I must appear like I’m on the verge of combusting, and Harris is smart enough to pick up on exterior changes.

“Don’t you always bitch that I’m constantly absent? You should be happy I’m coming along.” My voice is calm, but it’s the deceptive type that hints at a fucking storm brewing underneath.

“I am, but…you wouldn’t usually leave Aurora’s side. Especially after what happened today.”

“She’s Ms Harper to you.”

“I can’t call her Ms Harper now. That’s like calling Grams Mrs Willis.”