Chapter 188: Fear Wearing a Bad Attitude.
Aurora's Pov
I pushed open the door to my room and found Annie sprawled across her bed, one arm over her eyes. She let out a long, dramatic yawn before peeking at me through half-lidded eyes.
“Where did you disappear to?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “I swear, one second you’re here, the next poof. Did you go on some secret midnight mission without me?”
I kicked the door shut behind me harder than I meant to, the sound making her flinch.
“If by ‘mission’ you mean having the most ridiculous conversation of my life, then yes.”
Her brows lifted.
“Uh-oh. That tone. What happened?”
I paced across the room, my pulse still racing from the walk back.
“Do you know what Alessandro just asked me?”
Annie sat up instantly, alert now. “Judging by your face, it wasn’t ‘How’s your night going?’”
I spun on my heel, throwing my hands in the air.
“He asked me if I still had feelings for Leonardo.”
Her jaw dropped. “Wait. He what?!”
“Yes,” I snapped, my voice sharp.
“As if I’d just… what?
Casually still pine for the man who betrayed me?
As if I’d—”
Annie slid off her bed, crossing her arms. “That’s… wow. Did you hit him?”
“No. But I wanted to.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm the storm in my chest.
“The worst part? The way he asked. Like it was some normal, harmless little question. Like my answer wouldn’t cut into me.”
Annie gave me a look of pure disbelief. “I swear, men have a talent for picking the exact wrong question at the exact wrong time.”
I let out a humorless laugh.
“Well, congratulations to him he’s officially earned the gold medal.”
Annie shook her head slowly, like she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.
“So what did you say? Or… wait, did you even answer him?”
I scoffed. “No. I walked away. Because if I stayed there one more second, I would’ve said something I couldn’t take back and then it would’ve turned into a full-blown fight in the middle of the path.”
She snorted. “And you say you don’t have self-control.”
I dropped onto my bed, my hands gripping the blanket.
“It’s not just the question, Annie. It’s what it means.
If he’s asking me that… does that mean he doesn’t trust me?
That he thinks my heart is still split between them?”
Annie crossed the room and perched on the edge of my bed, looking me dead in the eye.
“No. It means he’s insecure. Probably jealous. And if you ask me, jealousy is just fear wearing a bad attitude.
He’s afraid of losing you, Aurora, and instead of admitting that, he decided to poke the bear.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Well, congratulations to him, he poked it.”
She smirked. “So… you’re mad?”
“I’m furious,” I admitted. “And hurt. And… maybe a little tired of constantly having to prove myself to people who should already know me.”
Annie nodded slowly. “Then don’t chase him tonight. Let him sit in it. If he’s smart, he’ll realize how wrong he was and come to you with an apology big enough to make the moon jealous.”
Despite myself, I smiled faintly. “An apology big enough to make the moon jealous, huh?”
“Yup,” she said, leaning back on her hands. “I’ll even help you make him work for it. Maybe I’ll guard the door and demand an offering before I let him in.”
I laughed really laughed then shook my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me for it.”
I sighed, falling back against my pillow. “Yeah. I do.”
The night felt endless.
I lay in bed, eyes wide open, the moonlight spilling in through the half-open curtains, painting silver lines across the ceiling. My pillow felt too hard, my blanket too heavy. Every time I shifted, the echo of his question came back, sharper, louder like a knife twisting in the dark.
Do you still have feelings for Leonardo?
I shut my eyes tight, trying to chase away the sound of his voice in my head. But I couldn’t. It was there, clinging to me like smoke.
Why? Why would Alessandro even ask me that? After everything we’d been through after every look, every touch, every word that made my heart race, why would he think I had space left in me for Leonardo?
I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees to my chest, fingers curling into the sheet. My chest felt tight, as if the question had stolen all the air from the room.
He knew. He knew I was head over heels for him. I’d shown him in every way I could. In the way I listened to him, in the way I defended him even when the world turned its back, in the way my heart seemed to beat in sync with his.
So why plant such poison between us?
Was it doubt? Distrust? Or something deeper something he wasn’t telling me?
I sat up, running a hand through my hair, tugging a little too hard on the strands just to feel something other than this ache. My eyes flicked to the clock.
Two in the morning. Only hours had passed since I left him standing there, but it felt like years.
I got up, paced to the window, and leaned my forehead against the cold glass. The air outside was still, the stars stubbornly bright. I hated that a single question had done this to me and made me doubt what I thought was unshakable.
I whispered into the darkness, “Why would you ask me that, Alessandro?” My voice cracked, swallowed by the night.
I thought about him, his face when he asked, the flicker in his eyes, the tension in his voice. Was he jealous? Afraid? Testing me?
I didn’t know.
But as the hours dragged on, I realized something: it wasn’t just the question that hurt. It was the fact that he even thought it was worth asking.
And that… broke something in me.
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