(Aurora's POV)
"Come here, please," Adrian called out.
I wasn't prepared to face him, so I made an excuse. "I… I want to clear the bills," I said and walked passed him.
"No need trying to avoid me. I paid while you both were having a conversation, though I didn't feel the need. Maybe because I know the money will come back to me."
I made a U-turn to where he was standing. "That's it. The truth is there was no point because I'm still going to pay for it. I don't need your money!" I said and turned to leave.
He pulled me out of track to his chest, holding my waist. My hands fell to his shoulders for support. Our eyes met and remained locked.
I could feel his desire, but it wasn't lustful. Calm, gentle, controlled. With a sense of longing to escape forever into the universe around us.
His breath danced on my lips as he spoke. That was to show how close we were.
"Stop being childish. There's no need to argue over small things," he advised.
I threw my head back, lowering my gaze. "Adrian, I think you're crossing the line."
He inched closer and lifted my chin to meet his eyes. "Yes, I know. But you just have to hear me out. Okay?" he asked, but I didn't reply.
He loosened his grip and took my hand, leading the way. We walked to an elevator and he pressed a few buttons, which I didn't catch a glimpse.
I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about taking an elevator ride with him as it was just the two of us going in there.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
He held the door from shutting and looked at me. "Somewhere."
What kind of answer was that?
"Let's go, please," he begged.
We got inside the elevator, then the doors slammed each other and it started moving upwards.
The elevator felt like an endless tunnel because we had been inside for more than five minutes.
Neither of us said a word, but I could hear him giggling at my back.
I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "What's the matter?"
"It's creepy. You got a roach on your hair."
That wasn't funny, but he was laughing.
My heartbeat raced and my hands clung to my chest. I tried to hide my fear in my voice, but it was impossible.
I let out a high-pitched cry. "Oh, my God. Is it big or small? No, why should that matter? Help me take it out, please," I pleaded, ready to go on my knees.
"Sorry, I can't help you. You wouldn't let me touch you."
"C'mon, I'm sorry–"
"Fine, fine. Stop crying," he scoffed and reached out for my hair. He swept my hair to my left shoulder.
His pointed nose nuzzled my neck and he whispered, "Stay calm."
Goosebumps popped on my skin. I hated that his touches still had effect on me.
"Is it gone?" I asked, with my eyes closed.
I couldn't feel the heat between us, so I guessed he wasn't standing behind me, again.
His voice came from a small distance. "There was no roach. I was only pulling your legs."
I can't believe I was fooled.
Once again.
I opened my eyes and turned around. My face reddened to see him busy with his phone.
Did he have to get on my nerves every damn time?
He lifted his gaze. "I'm sorry," he apologized, trying hard to not laugh.
The ride became awkwardly silent, then the elevator came to a stop and we walked out like nothing happened.
We were at the rooftop. I had never been here before. I admired the beautiful view, gazing at the twinkling stars.
I never knew such places existed.
The only light was from a few well placed candles. The night breeze stung my exposed skin, making me shiver.
"This is not for me, is it?" I asked, backing him.
"Turn around and you'll see," he replied, and I was curious to know.
I was going to think it wasn't meant for me until I did as he instructed.
I saw silver letter balloons hanging on the wall, with an inscription: I'm sorry, blondie.
Why was he even apologizing?
For our divorce? Or for my humiliation?
I jumped in fear when I felt his cold hands on mine. I flinched at his touch, screaming out my lungs.
"Don't. Touch. Me!"
"I'm sorry–I'm sorry for causing you pain. It was never my intention to hurt you–"
"Lies, lies, lies! I'm tired of hearing that from you. Everything about you was fake, Adrian. Fake love. Fake hugs. Fake kisses. Fake apologies. Fake–I don't know, but you deceived me! You never planned on telling me the truth, instead you kept blaming me for our divorce. I wish I knew from the start. But what wrong have I done to you? Because I don't think I deserved this treatment. Will your fake apology mend my broken heart? Will it stop my bleeding heart? Am I ever going to heal from this?! Tell me 'cos I need answers. Please, talk to me, Adrian!"
When I was done talking, I had almost lost my voice from shouting. Tears began rolling down my cheeks. I just couldn't hold it back.
"I swear, I was going to tell you everything. I was waiting for the right time, but things didn't go as planned," he blurted out.
I wiped my tears with my hand, forcing a smile on my face, but it didn't last. "So, it's true."
"I don't how to explain it, but–"
"Save your explanations. After all, I don't have a say in your decisions. So, are you done apologizing? I mean, that's the only thing you've been doing."
His voice became shaky as he spoke. "Because I feel guilty of everything. Believe me, if I could turn back the hands of the clock, we'd have both been in a better place. But it isn't in my power to decide our fate, and I'm not hoping for anything. If you hate me, it's acceptable. I deserve it. But I hope that someday, you can stare into my eyes without sadness and hatred– only with forgiveness. I believe time heals everything."
His face turned pale as he continued. "Until then, I won't appear before you. Not unless you want me to," he said, walking away.
I thought he was leaving, but he came back with two glasses of red wine and offered me a glass, which I accepted.
"Cheers to a new beginning for us," he said, then we toasted the glasses and took a sip in the comfort of our silence.
I caught him stealing glances at me, several times. Sooner, we were in a universe of our own, lost in the depths of each other's eyes.
"I don't know if I have the right to say to your face that I still love you." he chuckled. "Look at me. I already did."
I hadn't notice the tears in his eyes, until now. He looked like he had more to say, so I didn't interrupt.
"Deep down, I know you can't believe any word I say, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you–more than I've ever loved anyone else, including myself…"
"You are the best thing that happened to me. Now, I'm afraid to live a life without you, but I just have to give it a try. Everything happened for a reason," he added.
My brain wasn't processing any word he was uttering, but I listened in my silent tears.
"I hope you stay strong for the ones who love you–the ones that would never hurt you. The ones that will always put you first."
He stopped talking and wiped the tears in my eyes before he continued.
"Being a strong person means knowing that in the end everything is going to be okay and if something is meant to be, then you realize, no matter what, it will find a way."
I held unto that statement and hoped that would be the story of my life.
"I guess letting go of someone you love is, sometimes, the only option. It is never easy, but it's always for the best."
'What was for the best?' I thought to myself.
I was going to die if this was our fate, to part ways forever.
"Never stop being you. Always love yourself and live with no regrets. Don't ever think less of yourself. I want you to know you deserve better."
I finally spoke. "How should I believe that when you proved I wasn't worth being a life partner?"
His eyes widened at my deep, sudden question.
"It wasn't you, Aurora. It's me, but you won't understand why I'm doing this," he said, taking the blame upon himself.
At least, he didn't lie.
He held my face with his both hands and pressed his lips on my forehead. Though I didn't react, but it didn't just sit right with me.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay. I will be fine someday." That was the biggest lie I had ever told myself.
"The sky is getting darker. It isn't safe at this hour and your safety remains my first priority," he said, tucking loose strands of my hair behind my ears.
"Do you mind if I drop you off?" he asked.
"Mmm, not at all," I said, after giving it a wild thought. I wasn't ready to risk my life just because I was still mad at him.
"How do you plan on spending the night? With Stacey and Annabel? Or alone at your former apartment?" he asked, again.
The option I was looking for wasn't given–I wanted to spend the night and all other nights with him, and him alone.
"No, the penthouse," I insisted. I knew the question that followed it so, I explained my reasons. "I want to be left alone and it's more secured."
"Okay. Meet me at the car park when you're ready," he said, leaving me behind.