Really, she’s accomplished her goals whether my pulse still beats through my veins or not. I feel like I’ve suffered a mortal wound, and I don’t know how to recover from this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, how I’m supposed to act.
A knock has me lifting my head, desperate for whatever distraction the interruption can provide. “Come in.”
Sara slips through the door and closes it behind them. They move to the chair across from the desk and sink into it. “You’re a mess.”
“Thanks, Sara, tell me how you really feel.”
“If she can’t see that you’re priceless, then fuck her.” Sara perks up. “Want me to toss her off a building?”
“No.” No matter how much Aurora hurt me, I can’t condone harm against her. Even if she’s not at my side, the thought of her moving through the world is comforting in a strange sort of way. She’ll land on her feet. She’s too stubborn and strong not to. “I don’t want any unfortunate accidents, Sara. I mean it.”
Sara sighs. “I can’t control it if she’s clumsy at the top of a set of stairs.”
“Sara.”
They grin. “Kidding.”
No, they weren’t, but they also will respect my wishes in this. “Ensure that the rest of the team is aware of that. I want no accidents. No jokes.”
“Got it.” Sara leans back, draping a long arm over the back of the chair next to them. “Though if you feel that way, why not chase her down and bring her back? She’s obviously all tied up over you, whether she wants to admit it or not. I don’t get why you just let her walk away.”
I almost tell them to get out of my office, but we’ve been friends long enough that I feel like I owe them an answer. “If she chooses this, it has to be real. It can’t be because I overwhelmed her.” The thought had crossed my mind, but I don’t want a fling with Aurora. I want forever. It feels like a sudden decision and, at the same time, one I’ve been working toward for nearly ten years, since that first time with her. “She has to choose me.”
Sara studies me for several long moments. “You love her.”
“Yes.” No point in denying it. They would have figured it out eventually, even if Aurora never returns. I’m moping. I never mope.
They sigh. “Then I suppose I should tell you that she’s waiting in the lobby.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Aurora is waiting in the lobby,” they repeat with exaggerated slowness.
“And you’re just now telling me.”
“Yep.” They push to their feet. “If you didn’t love her, I would have sent her away.”
I plant my hands on the desk. “That’s not your call to make.”
“Wrong. I watch your back, Malone. That girl got to you, and she messed you up enough that I can’t trust you to protect yourself when it comes to her.” Sara pauses at the door. “I’ll respect your wishes. For now.”
“I do not want you sharpening a knife every time she and I have an argument.” This might be jumping the gun a bit, but it needs to be said. “She doesn’t present a danger to my body, and so you will not strike back simply because we argue.”
“Of course not.” Sara shrugs. “Your relationship is your relationship. I can respect that boundary, as long as she doesn’t harm you.”
A tiny line, a microscopic distinction, and yet I have a feeling it’s the best I’m going to get. “Fine.”
“I’ll let her up.”
“Wait.” I push to my feet. “Send her up to the penthouse. I’ll meet her there.”
“Got it.” They turn and walk out of my office.
I force myself to count slowly to ten, long enough for them to reach the elevator, before I stride out of my office and make my way to the stairs. I don’t run, but I certainly don’t linger as I hurry up to the penthouse. Once I’m inside, I have half a thought to change, but that’s ridiculous. Aurora has seen me in many modes already. It shouldn’t matter if I’m wearing a suit or pajamas.
Still.
I take two seconds to fix my lipstick and run my fingers through my hair, guiding it back from my face. As I’m leaving the bedroom, I hear the front door open.
“Malone?”
Gods, her voice. I close my eyes and take a slow breath. Just because she’s here doesn’t mean this is going to go the way I desperately want it to. She might be here to tell me that my membership to the Underworld is revoked, or simply to say she never wants to see me again. Aurora’s the type to do that sort of thing in person rather than through distant measures.
I can’t dredge up my icy facade. It’s melted to a puddle at my feet. I am only me as I walk out of the hallway to find her standing in my living room.