My Enigma

Chapter Thirty-Six

Aurora's POV

It was one of those quiet evenings where the world seemed to exhale simultaneously. The sky was cotton-candy soft, bleeding from dusky lavender into warm amber, and Hanna's porch light had already flickered on by the time I got there.

We were finally having a girls' night and boy, was I excited. It had been a long minute since we had a night that was just us girls.

"Hey, girl," she greeted me with a sleepy grin, already in her hoodie and fuzzy socks. "Come in. You've looked like you needed this night all week."

She wasn't wrong. Between school, Luke's emotional U-turns, and my own scattered thoughts, I felt like a drawer left half open, everything inside just tumbling out without order.

"Is Connor home?" I asked as I stepped inside.

"Nope," she said, already heading for the kitchen. "He left an hour ago for some party. Said he wouldn't be back until late." She turned with a smirk. "So it's just us girls. Finally."

The living room was bathed in soft golden light, the kind that made everything feel gentler. A couple of candles were already burning on the shelf. One smelled like cinnamon, and the other like something floral I couldn't place but immediately loved. There was a pile of snacks on the coffee table: popcorn, gummies, two glass bottles of soda, and a box of chocolate truffles. I suspected she was saving them for something special.

"You went all out," I said, tossing my bag onto the couch and sinking into the cushions beside it.

"Obviously," she replied, tossing me a pillow. "You've been spiraling, and you weren't exactly subtle about it. I figured you needed a night where no one tries to kiss you or confuse you or emotionally dump on you."

I snorted. "You mean a night where Luke isn't involved?"

"Exactly."

We both laughed. Loud, unfiltered, and just... needed. I hadn't realized how tense my chest had been until that moment. I curled my legs under me, watching her pull two fluffy blankets from the hallway closet and toss one my way.

"What's the plan?" I asked. "Movies? Nail painting? Gossip?"

"All of the above," she said proudly, plopping down next to me and pulling open the snack boxes. "But first—you. Talk to me."

I hesitated, biting into a sour gummy. The sting on my tongue was easier to deal with than the lump forming in my throat.

"It's just... everything feels like too much and nothing at the same time. Like I'm surrounded by noise, but I can't hear anything clearly. Luke says something, and I think I understand him, then he turns around and does something else entirely. And I keep asking myself why I care so much when I know I shouldn't."

Hanna leaned against the back of the couch, knees drawn up, arms hugging a pillow. She didn't say anything right away. Just listened. That was one of the reasons I loved her — she never rushed my mess. She let me sort through it at my own pace.

"Maybe it's not about him," she said softly after a while. "Maybe it's about you needing to be seen. Really seen. And you thought he did... but maybe you were just hoping."

Her words landed like a whisper and a truth bomb all at once.

I looked over at her, at the friend who'd known me long enough to see through every layer. "You think I'm just chasing a feeling?"

"I think," she said, "you're trying to fill a space that was never meant to be filled by someone like Luke. Not permanently, anyway."

I didn't respond because that felt too true.