Her feelings for him clearly had never changed. That realization darkened Aurora’s gaze. No wonder Lucas had agreed to let Wendy move in. So, it had all been planned from the start. Thinking back, Aurora felt like a complete fool.
There was no such thing as a purely platonic relationship between a man and a woman. That was something she now understood better than anyone.
Lucas shut the door and, seeing her hair still damp, reached for a towel. “Rora, lie down. I’ll help you dry it.”
“No need.” Her voice was cold, and she didn’t even look at him, treating him like a stranger.
That was when Lucas knew for sure—something was seriously wrong. She’d been angry when she came out of the bathroom, but now it was worse. And it was all directed at him. He wanted to explain.
“Rora, between me and her… we…”
“Stop,” Aurora cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not curious about any of it.”
He stepped forward, trying to take her hand, but she pulled away faster than he could reach her.
“There’s nothing going on. I’ve always seen her as a sister.”
Aurora let out a bitter laugh. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Lucas clenched his fists, a heavy sense of helplessness weighing down on him. This wasn’t the first time or the second. At this point, he didn’t even know what else he could say.
“Don’t. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he muttered.
There was nothing more he could explain, nothing more she wanted to hear. With that, he turned and headed for the living room.
His tall frame curled awkwardly on the small sofa, looking almost comically out of place. Aurora didn’t care. She went straight to bed. It wasn’t like she’d asked for any of this. And besides, there was a perfectly good bed. He was the one who chose not to sleep in it. That night, neither of them got a wink of sleep.
The next morning, Lucas got up and returned to the bedroom, planning to talk things through with Aurora. But when he pushed the door open, he froze. The room had been tidied from top to bottom—everything in place, not a trace left behind. She must’ve left early. His gaze darkened, and his hand slowly clenched around the doorknob. Their conflict remained unresolved.
But Aurora had no time to dwell on it—she was buried in a new project, constantly meeting with John, barely catching a breath. Most days she left before sunrise and didn’t return at all.
Wendy sat at the dining table, listlessly poking at the delivery she’d ordered. “Lukey, why don’t you cook something? Takeout doesn’t taste half as good as your food.”
But Lucas had no appetite to cook. “She’s not here. I don’t feel like it.”
“What, you can’t cook just for me?” Wendy’s eyes flickered with a trace of jealousy. Why did that newcomer get treated so well? Lucas was supposed to be hers.
Lucas didn’t even lift his head. “Mm.”
Wendy pushed further, her tone light but pointed. “Isn’t it strange how busy she is? A woman should be home taking care of her man, not running around all day. Lukey, don’t you think she’s being a little unfair?”
At that, Lucas’s eyes snapped up, a flash of cold fire in his gaze. His dark eyes locked on Wendy, unmoving and unreadable. Caught off guard, she shrank slightly under his stare. “W–What is it, Lukey? Did I say something wrong?”