Chapter 16
In the days that followed, Aurora and Gideon often visited the pet clinic together.
Thanks to the attentive care of the nurses, the little orange kitten recovered quickly-its wounds healing, its eyes growing brighter with each passing day.
Aurora had wanted to bring the kitten home with her.
But her landlord had been clear: no pets allowed.
It was a rule she couldn’t break.
“You can leave her with me,” Gideon offered one afternoon. “My place is bigger, and I’ve had cats before.”
As if to prove it, he pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of his old tabby back in American-chubby cheeks, wide amber eyes, curled into a plush blanket like royalty.
Even his lock screen was set to a picture of it.
Aurora’s lips curled into a small smile. “Alright. But I’ll buy the food and litter. You’ve already covered the vet bills-this
time, it’s on me.”
“Deal.”
He paused, then added, “But carrying everything back might be a bit much on your own. Let me help.”
She didn’t expect him to be so thoughtful. Grateful, she nodded.
Together, they stopped by a pet store and stocked up-dry food, litter, soft bedding, tiny toys, and a collapsible scratching
post.
Aurora had always struggled with small choices. But Gideon never rushed her. If anything, he offered gentle suggestions, weighing pros and cons with the patience of a seasoned negotiator.
His quiet attentiveness warmed her heart.
For a moment, she remembered-Sterling used to be like that too.
But later, he wouldn’t even give her two minutes to explain…
Wouldn’t even listen to the tape.
“Something wrong?” Gideon asked, noticing the sudden cloud in her eyes.
Aurora blinked. “No, I just realized… we still haven’t given her a name.”
“You should do the honors,” he said. “You’re her rescuer, after all.”
Aurora thought for a second, then smiled.
“Let’s call her Pixie. She found us in the summer. It suits her, don’t you think?”
15
Gideon looked at her, a flicker of softness in his eyes.
“I like it. Pixie it is.”
–
It was late when they finally left the vet’s office.
Gideon called a ride, and while they waited, he even phoned the driver ahead to ask if pets were allowed in the vehicle.
The driver agreed easily-but when he pulled up, he glanced at Aurora with a faintly amused look and said something in
Russian.
Aurora tilted her head. “What did he just say? Why was he looking at me like that?”
Gideon coughed lightly. “He said… your kitten is so cute, he almost wanted to steal her.”
“What?” Aurora’s eyes widened. She immediately hugged Pixie tighter in her arms. “She’s mine. Tell him no way.”
Gideon burst out laughing. “I’m kidding.”
Aurora shot him a glare, but didn’t loosen her hold on Pixie one bit.
From where he sat beside her, Gideon watched her quietly-watched how carefully she cradled the kitten, how serious her expression became when she was protecting something small and helpless.
And he smiled.
Once Pixie was settled into his apartment, Aurora reluctantly said goodnight and returned home.
She showered quickly, dried her hair, and was about to call it a night when her phone buzzed.
Curious, she glanced down-only to see a news notification lighting up the screen.
BREAKING: Billionaire Sterling Blackwood Publicly Cancels Wedding
Bride left at the altar as groom declares she’s “not the one he’s been searching for.”
The headline alone made Aurora freeze.
She tapped it open.
Clear, high-definition images filled the screen-chaos in the wedding hall, gasps frozen on the guests’ faces, Scarlet
crumpled on the ground in a shredded dress.
But what caught Aurora’s attention first… were the sunflowers.
Hand-painted sunflowers on the backdrop.
Sunflower-themed cards on every table.
Sunflower details hidden in the gift boxes and floral arches.
All because once-long ago-she had told him that her dream wedding would be filled with sunflowers.
Because they always turned toward the light.
So he remembered.
Her hand tightened around her phone.
As she scrolled further, her breath caught.
There it was-the truth.
He had listened to the recording.
He had found out.
And he had called off the wedding.
Her heart stuttered in her chest.
But even then-even knowing this-there was no joy.
No relief.
Only a strange, hollow ache.
Because no matter what Sterling did now, none of it could undo what he had already done.
The years of silence.
The rejection.
The punishment.
The cruelty.
She had begged him to listen.
He never had.
Until it was far too late.
Aurora quietly closed the news app.
Then, with steady hands, she unfollowed every news outlet, every tag, every trace of him.
That part of her life-everything and everyone tied to it-was over.
