bed chem | drew starkey

CHAPTER 25

EARLY - MID JANUARY 2024

After coffee, they wandered through the market, the vibrant colors and sounds of the local stalls blending together in the background. drew, however, was far more focused on something else. He was determined to make things right—to repair whatever damage had been done between him and Aurora.

He hated himself for the way things had been. For how easily he had hurt her, how distant he had been when it mattered most. Even as they walked side by side, laughing at small jokes or pointing out curiosities in the stalls, Drew couldn't shake the weight of what he'd done.

They had agreed to start fresh, but he knew it wasn't going to be that simple. Not for her. She wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt easily—not after everything. Aurora Martinez knew her worth, and Drew understood better than anyone that you didn't get second chances from someone like her without proving you deserved it.

He couldn't blame her for keeping her distance. She had every right to guard her heart, to set her boundaries, to protect herself from getting hurt again.

After their stroll through the market, Drew returned to his hotel room, his mind restless. The hotel room felt hollow compared to the comfort of Aurora's presence earlier. He knew she'd gone back to her room, claiming she needed a nap. Part of him believed her—she had a packed schedule ahead of her. But the other part, the self-loathing part, whispered that it had more to do with him than anything else.

He'd seen the way her eyes flickered with uncertainty, the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It wasn't just about being tired. She was retreating into herself—protecting herself from whatever feelings might resurface. From him.

Drew sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. He had been an idiot. A stupid, selfish idiot who thought he could waltz back into her life and things would somehow fall into place. He had taken something so precious—their connection, their trust—and recklessly thrown it away.

The thought made his stomach churn. The idea that he might have lost the most important person in his life forever, all because he couldn't see what was right in front of him, made him feel sick.

He knew better now. He knew what it meant to truly care—to really understand what she meant to him. But knowing that wasn't enough. Not when he had already made so many mistakes.

The hours until they had to be on set loomed ahead of him. Drew knew Aurora wouldn't forget or forgive easily. And maybe she shouldn't. Maybe it was a reminder he deserved—a reminder of how much he had taken for granted.

Yet, as he sat there in silence, the quiet of the room heavy around him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't want to give up without trying.

He had to make it right. No matter how long it took.

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Aurora woke up groggily to the sound of her alarm, a dull reminder that she had to be on set soon. The nap hadn't been as refreshing as she'd hoped—her mind was still heavy with thoughts of Drew. She stretched lazily before dragging herself out of bed and slipping into her robe.

By the time she made her way outside to the meeting spot, the warm desert air greeted her, and the sun was beginning its descent, casting long, dramatic shadows over the dunes. The cast and crew were milling about, preparing for the afternoon's shoot. Drew was standing a few feet away, talking to one of the crew members, but his eyes caught hers almost instantly.

"Hey," he called out, breaking away from his conversation. He walked over, his usual confidence slightly muted, as though he was testing the waters. "Feeling better?"