Chapter 7: When The Past Calls

(Aurora)

As Jenny and I approached the grand hall where the reunion was being held, excitement bubbled in my chest like fluttering butterflies. It had been nearly three years since I’d seen or spoken to my old college friends—some of them for much longer. They’d probably have a barrage of questions for me. The apprehension sent a thrill coursing through my veins.

“Remember,” I turned to Jenny, keeping my tone light but firm, “not a word about Leon and me. The last thing I need are questions about my ‘mysterious husband.’”

Jenny raised a brow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Fine. But if Claire tries to one-up you, I’m not promising to stay quiet.”

We stepped into the room, the sound of chatter and laughter washing over us. I scanned the crowd, catching sight of familiar faces, before being momentarily taken back by two striking figures near the entrance.

Leon and Claire.

They walked in together, drawing every eye in the room. Leon looked impeccable in a tailored navy suit, while Claire, by his side, wore a stunning amber dress that molded her body like a glove. Her hand rested on his arm, as if it belonged there—a quiet, unspoken claim.

My voice caught in my throat. I hadn’t imagined seeing them here, let alone like this. Claire turned, spotting me, her eyes glinting with mischief as she sauntered over.

“Aurora,” she said, tilting her head against Leon’s arm. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”

“Claire,” I replied, my smile polite. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“Leon and I were just reminiscing about old times.” She leaned in slightly, her tone dripping with faux sweetness. “Such a caring man he’s been—sending me gifts in France every holiday, patiently listening to me sob when I fought with my ex-husband. Do you know? Leon even offered me a role at his company. He is truly a gem, isn’t he?” 

My alarm bells went off at the mention of her supposed new role, but I forced a smile. “Oh, absolutely. Such a social butterfly, always scrambling to pamper everyone he ‘cares’ about.”

Claire tilted her head. “Have you two had a lot of chances to meet? Leon’s mentioned you a few times—building bridges? Given how you were always at each other’s throats back in college, I wouldn’t have expected it.”

The sheer absurdity of his rumored girlfriend talking to me like Leon and I were strangers made me want to laugh, but I composed myself. “Something like that. We’ve long since put those childish days behind us.”

“Oh, of course. I'm sure you were far too occupied to worry about college grudges,” Claire said with exaggerated sympathy. “It must have been devastating to lose so many people after what happened with your family. But, thankfully, Leon is such a saint, never changing his mind about those who’ve fallen from grace. Though, as we both know, people's opinions have a way of changing quickly, don’t they?”

I kept smiling, but my eyes were cold. “Depends on who you surround yourself with. I have good friends who’ve stuck by me through it all. Just have to be aware of the virulent opportunists, always ready to gleefully tear into others' misfortunes.”

Claire’s mouth parted slightly, a coy smirk gracing her innocent face. “Well, it was so public—”

Leon grasped her before she could finish, gently but firmly. “Claire.” His voice was low and controlled. “I’m sure Aurora can handle herself just fine. Let’s not pry.”

With that, Leon nodded curtly, turning on his heel and leading Claire away. 

Jenny wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Even the air around them is nauseating. Looks like he’s ready to fully exploit the perks of being a 'fake husband'. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have mentioned the reunion at all.”

“No, I should be thanking you,” I said calmly, watching them mingle with the crowd. “Glad to see some reality.”

Part of me just wanted to confront her again. Claire’s got some hidden agenda, and she’s already shown me the sharp edge of her knife. It was like I could never escape these toxic situations. I turned, feeling a wave of gloom, when a familiar sight caught my attention.

Owen.

He arrived late, his entrance understated yet impossible to miss. Smiling apologetically, he said, “Sorry, I’m a bit late. The hospital… It’s been a hectic day.”

As he explained himself, people started to gather around him. Owen had that reserved, enigmatic charm—no matter how quiet or withdrawn he was, there was something magnetic about him that drew others in. I watched the crowd gather,  then, as if sensing my gaze, his eyes slowly found mine and locked.

My heart fluttered as memories surged, vivid and bittersweet—our drunken laughter echoing in that dim college bar, his warm hands on my waist on the rocky mountain trails, the stolen giggles and whispered secrets tucked away in the corner of the library. I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on Jenny, who shot me a knowing grin.

I muttered an apology and retreated to the buffet area. My mind buzzed with embarrassment as Claire’s melodic tone floated over, jamming my muddy thoughts. 

“You know, my time in France was absolutely transformative,” she trilled, “I had the privilege of working on a campaign with Devereux Designs. It was exhilarating – the late nights, the creativity, the sheer energy of Paris. Shame, I had to decline their full-time offer….”

Normally, I’d plaster on a polite smile, sidestep her, and find some other distraction to focus on—anything to escape her self-congratulatory monologues. But right now, the searing weight of a gaze drilling into the back of my head had me too rattled to even register Claire’s words.

Then, a bright voice cut through the haze, I turned and met a pair of somber brown eyes framed by a familiar angular face, softly dusted with faint freckles.

“Hey, Owen. Long time no see.”

He chuckled lightly. “Likewise. I wanted to talk to you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me after… well, the last time.”

A faint smile naturally broke through. “No… I’ve thought about it too… Honestly, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time.”

Owen’s eyes lit up as he moved closer, the air between us humming with his warmth.

Facing him, I realized that none of my tortured indecision mattered. Life and my sham of a marriage have taught me there simply isn’t that much time to wait for a perfect signal.