Chapter 15
Aurora pushed open the window and was greeted by warm sunlight pouring into the room.
It was a beautiful day.
A soft breeze brushed past her face, and she felt a rare lightness settle over her chest.
She decided to head out for a walk. With no job interviews scheduled yet, she had time to spare-and today felt too lovely
to waste indoors.
As she strolled past the hedges near her building, a faint, high-pitched sound caught her ear.
Meow.
She paused, looking around.
There was no sign of a cat.
She frowned, chalked it up to imagination, and was about to move on-when the sound came again, this time clearer.
Meow. Meow.
Aurora knelt down and parted the tall grass, scanning the shadows beneath the old stone drainage pipe nearby.
And there, curled deep inside the pipe, was a tiny orange kitten.
It was painfully thin, its fur matted and patchy, with small wounds all over its body.
But when it saw her, it didn’t run.
It didn’t even flinch.
Instead, it tried to drag itself toward her-its front paws moving eagerly, while its back legs trembled and lagged behind.
Aurora’s heart clenched.
She had to help it.
She reached for the stone slabs blocking the pipe entrance and tried to move them, but they were too heavy.
She looked around, but there was no one in sight. She didn’t know anyone here-no friends, no neighbors.
Except…
That man from upstairs.
The one who helped her at the restaurant.
After a moment of hesitation, she ran upstairs and knocked on his door.
He opened it after a few seconds, clearly just woken up-his hair slightly tousled, shirt rumpled.
When he saw it was her, he straightened, smoothing down his clothes instinctively.
“You need something?”
Aurora quickly explained about the kitten, her words tumbling over each other in urgency.
“Alright,” he said simply. “Give me a second.”
He changed clothes and followed her downstairs.
When he saw where the kitten was trapped, he carefully shifted the cement slabs aside. Then, with steady hands, he
reached into the pipe and gently pulled the little cat out.
The kitten didn’t resist-it just kept meowing, pitiful and weak, but calm in his arms.
“I think its back leg’s injured. We should take it to a vet.”
“I know where one is,” Aurora said immediately. “It’s close.”
They walked together to the clinic, taking turns holding the kitten as it whimpered softly.
At the front desk, a nurse took the kitten in for examination while they waited outside.
When she returned, her expression was much more relaxed.
“It’s nothing serious,” she told them. “Just a few scrapes and bruises, and it’s severely malnourished. We’ll keep it for a few days to monitor and stabilize it.”
Aurora exhaled, finally able to breathe again.
“Thank you,” she said, turning to the man beside her. “I really mean it-if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have known what to
do.”
“I never got your name, by the way.”
He smiled slightly. “It’s Gideon Hale. And you?”
“Aurora Wyndham.”
He echoed her name under his breath, then gave a faint nod, as if filing it away.
After settling the kitten into a recovery unit and confirming visitation hours, the two walked back toward their building.
With a shared purpose between them, the air was lighter. They spoke easily, no longer strangers.
Aurora learned that Gideon worked as a legal advisor at a boutique law firm nearby.
She brightened
“I’ve always loved law,” she admitted. “When I was younger, I used to spend hours reading case studies like they were
novels.”
That caught Gideon’s interest, and before long, they were discussing legal systems, courtroom dynamics, and the cultural differences between Eastern and Western jurisprudence.
They talked all the way home.
And it felt… surprisingly natural.
Not once did the conversation lag.
Not once did it feel forced.
He wasn’t cold at all, Aurora realized. Just quiet. Steady. The kind of person who thought before he spoke.
When they reached the building, Aurora suddenly said, “Wait here.”
“…Okay?”
He watched curiously as she darted off-only to return a minute later with two enormous cones of soft serve.
She held one out to him.
“You remembered?” he asked, surprised.
“Of course,” she said, grinning. “I owe you, remember?”
He chuckled softly and took it from her.
Sunlight dappled through the trees, landing on her face in golden patches.
She looked up at him with a relaxed, unguarded smile, and for a split second-he felt heat rush to his cheeks.
He cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly flustered.
“I-I should get back. Got some emails to send.”
“Alright. We’ll go check on the kitten together in a few days?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly, already halfway to the stairs. “Text me.”
Aurora watched him disappear around the corner, ice cream in hand, and couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself.
She didn’t know it yet-but that tiny kitten in the drainpipe…
Had changed everything.
