CHAPTER 116: HAVING DINNER..

He simply continued dressing her wounds with the same quiet care, the gentleness of his touch contrasting with the ache pounding in his chest.

He didn’t want to startle her—not tonight. Not when she was already withdrawing behind that unbreakable mask again.

They sat there, wordless, but the silence wasn’t empty—it was filled with emotion, unspoken thoughts, and questions that neither of them dared to ask.

After a while, Sebastian finally spoke. "Is something bothering you, Ms. Smith?"

She turned to him and gave a faint smile—polite, but devoid of life. "I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Harper. Let’s schedule our dinner for another day."

Sebastian glanced at her, emotions flickering in his eyes. He didn’t push.

If she wasn’t ready to speak, he would wait—quietly, patiently.

He would wait for the day she would willingly share everything with him.

He nodded. "That’s alright. You need rest more than anything now."

He stood, gave her one last glance, then quietly walked out of the room.

Aurora sat frozen for a few moments, unsure if she should call him back. She didn’t.

Instead, she went into the bathroom and let the shower wash over her, the warmth doing little to numb the chill in her bones.

She changed into her robe and was just about to get into bed when she heard a knock.

She paused. "Come in."

The door opened. Sebastian entered, pushing a trolley of food.

Aromas of grilled shrimp, warm lamb broth, and roasted vegetables filled the air. It was the kind of smell that could pull a person back to life.

Aurora blinked, caught off guard.

"Mr. Harper..."

Her stomach betrayed her, growling loudly.

She flushed. "You didn’t have to—"

Sebastian raised a brow. "An empty stomach leads to destruction. So eat."

There was no room for debate. She gave a small nod and sat down as he laid out the dishes.

She picked up her fork and began eating. Her taste buds came alive—everything was perfect, rich, comforting.

Halfway through her meal, Aurora suddenly remembered that Sebastian was seated beside her.

She glanced up and noticed him quietly working on his mobile phone.

"Mr. Harper, have you had dinner? Would you like to have some?" she asked, pausing her fork mid-air.

Sebastian smiled, his voice calm, "Thank you, Ms. Smith, but I had something light earlier."

In truth, he hadn’t eaten anything at all. Ever since his habit of skipping meals after 7 p.m. began, he rarely broke it.

But watching her eat so earnestly, savoring each bite like it was her first real meal in days, made his stomach grumble involuntarily.

Still, he composed himself, keeping his expression neutral.

Aurora, lost in the comfort of food and unaware of his silent restraint, seemed not to notice.

She’d eaten at the finest restaurants, even owned one herself, but this... this was different.

"Where did you order this from?" she asked between bites. "I want the number. I’m ordering takeout from here every day."

Sebastian smirked. "Well, then, you’ll have to thank me."

She froze mid-bite.

"...You cooked this?"

He handed her a glass of water just in time. She had nearly choked. Her ears reddened slightly.

"It’s... really good, Mr. Harper."

He smiled, pleased. She quickly returned to eating, hoping to cover her flushed face. She wasn’t used to being flustered.

When she finished and stood to go to bed, Sebastian gently stopped her again.

"Sit down for a moment."

She looked at him, puzzled, but obeyed.

He returned with a hairdryer.

"You didn’t dry your hair. And with that injury..." he said, gesturing to her hand.

"I can do it—"

"I’ve raised Jenny. I know how to do this." His voice was calm but firm.

She hesitated... then slowly sat down again. For reasons she couldn’t name, she let him.

As he gently dried her long, damp hair, warm air brushing her nape, Aurora stared ahead in silence. But this time, the silence didn’t feel lonely. It felt safe.

And in that quiet space, a warmth began to bloom in her chest—tender, unfamiliar, and utterly disarming.

She didn’t say a word.

But a small part of her heart... filled with the warmth.

After bidding Sebastian goodbye, Aurora slipped into a deep slumber—but it was far from peaceful.

She found herself trapped in a nightmare that didn’t feel like a dream at all.

It was as if she were drifting through endless fragments of time, floating weightlessly in a void where no beginning or end existed.

After the explosion, everything had gone black—and then came the spiral.

She was being pulled into a vortex, a swirling time gap where every moment stretched into lifetimes.

Some fragments showed her reigning over empires, adored and powerful. Others—much darker—reduced her to nothing but a shadow, bound and tortured, her cries echoing in the silence.

Each torment felt real, like a blade slicing through her chest, the pain lingering long after the image faded.

Faces blurred past her eyes, until one scene jolted her soul.

She saw a girl—slender, elegant, and heartbreakingly familiar. She looks exactly like me, Luna thought, except for those striking green eyes.

The girl sat quietly in the corner of the bed, delicate and still, her gaze locked on the man who was choking someone on the mattress.

There was a hollow sorrow in her eyes, a kind of devastation that gripped Luna’s chest like icy fingers.

Luna slowly turned her gaze toward the scene playing out before them. Luna knew this moment—knew it too well.

It was Alexander, and the woman he was strangling was Aurora—the same Aurora whose body Luna now inhabited.

But why was she seeing this again? Her mind reeled, the scene unfolding with haunting familiarity.

Her eyes slowly drifted back to the girl in the corner, the one who sat so still, so heartbreakingly silent.

And then her breath hitched. That wasn’t just anyone.

That was the real Aurora—her soul, quiet and broken, watching how the man she had once loved had taken away her life with his own hands.

The girl’s despair was etched in her face, but just before the life drained from her eyes, she turned—as if sensing Luna’s presence beyond the veil. Their eyes met.

"Sister..." the girl whispered softly, her voice barely audible, like a fading breeze.

"Please take care of yourself and live life to the fullest. Make my name untouchable.

Show them what I was truly worth, sister. I’ve paid my dues to him—by giving my life in return for the kindness he once showed me. I owe him nothing now."

A gentle smile curved Aurora’s lips, serene and free, as if she was finally ready to let go.

And then, without warning, she lifted her hand and gently touched Luna’s chest—light shimmering between them—before softly pushing her soul back into the body of the original Aurora.

Then she vanished.

Aurora jolted awake, gasping, her chest heaving. Cold sweat soaked her forehead and back.

Her fingers dug into the sheets as she tried to steady her breath, her mind reeling.