CHAPTER 48
Auri's Apartment — A Tangled Morning
(Dante's POV + Auri's POV)**
DANTE'S POV
The first thing I felt was warmth.
Soft, steady, familiar warmth pressed against my arm — delicate, fragile, grounding. For a moment, I didn't open my eyes. I didn't move. I didn't dare breathe too deeply, afraid I might break the peace wrapped around me.
Auri was still asleep… right beside me.
Her hair spilled over the pillows, soft waves brushing my shoulder. Her breaths were slow, quiet, almost trembling like she had been wrestling with dreams. Her back was facing me, but she was so close I could feel every rise and fall of her chest.
God.
I missed waking up like this.
It felt like years since I'd opened my eyes and found her in my arms — even if she wasn't quite in my arms. She kept a small distance, but not enough to erase the fact that she let me stay. Let me sleep next to her despite everything.
I lifted a hand, brushing one finger gently down her arm… not touching her fully, just ghosting over her skin.
She made a tiny sound in her sleep. Half sigh, half whimper.
It punched through my ribs like a blade.
I wanted to pull her close.
I wanted to kiss her awake.
I wanted her to look at me without that quiet fear of what we were — of what I might break.
But I didn't.
Not yet.
I reached for my phone from the nightstand.
The screen lit up.
Two new messages.
My chest tightened.
Mom:
We've arranged dinner with the Ursas. The wedding discussion must be finalized. No more delays, Dante.
Dad:
Your responsibility comes first. We expect you to be there.
My stomach dropped so violently it felt like the ground tilted.
The Ursas.
Again.
The wedding.
Again.
My parents still believed the engagement was intact.
Olivia's parents still wanted the marriage.
And none of them cared about my answer.
I looked beside me — at Auri's small body curled under the blanket, the soft shape of her shoulders, the way her fingers relaxed on the pillow.
She didn't know any of this.
Because I told her everything was fine.
Because I didn't want to see her worry.
Because I didn't want her to think she would lose me again.
But the truth was a storm waiting to explode.
I took a quiet breath, trying to calm the rage boiling under my skin.
Not now.
Not here.
Not while she was sleeping so peacefully.
And then…
Auri moved.
Just a little.
Her hand stretched behind her as she shifted closer — so close her back pressed into my chest.
Her warmth sank straight into my bones.
I froze.
She didn't wake.
She just… naturally searched for warmth.
And there I was.
Her body fit mine like she was meant to be there.
My heart wasn't ready for how that felt.
I lifted my hand and placed it lightly on her waist — not gripping, not pulling, just resting.
She let out a tiny exhale and relaxed deeper into me.
I closed my eyes.
I wasn't losing this.
I couldn't.
Even if the world tried to drag me away, even if two entire families pushed—
Auri was the only thing I wanted to come home to.
I brushed my lips against the back of her head and whispered into her hair.
"I'm not letting them choose for me."
But the ache in my chest didn't fade.
Not when she stirred again.
Not when she slowly pulled away.
Not when she woke up… and the first thing she did was blink at me with confusion and shy panic in her eyes.
AURI'S POV
The first thing I felt was… watching.
Not hostile.
Not cold.
Just intense.
My eyes fluttered open, my vision soft and blurry. I blinked once. Twice. And then my breath caught.
Dante was awake.
Sitting beside me.
Half-leaning against the headboard.
Still in last night's shirt, hair messy, eyes fixed on me as if he'd been staring for a long time.
His face was unreadable — the kind of expression he only wore when he was holding back something heavy.
My pulse shot up instantly.
"Oh— you're awake," I whispered, voice small.
The way he looked at me didn't soften. He didn't smile. He didn't tease me. He didn't lean over to kiss me like he usually did.
He looked… conflicted.
Concern?
Fear?
Anger?
Something deeper?
"Did I…" I swallowed. "Did I kick you in my sleep or something?"
He blinked once, slow.
Then his eyes softened, just enough to melt some ice in my chest.
"No," he murmured.
His voice was low, tired, rough from sleep — but warm.
"You didn't kick me."
He was lying. Something was bothering him.
I pushed myself up, pulling the blanket over my chest because suddenly I remembered how small my shirt was. His eyes flickered down for a heartbeat — he definitely noticed — but looked away quickly, jaw tightening.
"Did something happen?" I asked quietly.
He hesitated.
The hesitation scared me more than anything.
Dante never hesitated.
But then he shook his head and forced a smile — a small, crooked one.
"Nothing that matters right now," he said. "Not more than seeing you."
I didn't believe him…
But the way he said it made my stomach turn warm.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"I guess," I said. "Did you?"
He looked at me for a long, quiet moment before answering.
"I slept better than I have in weeks."
Something inside me trembled.
But then the moment shifted — dissolved — when I nudged myself out of the bed and he followed with his eyes, tracing every movement like he couldn't look away.
I pretended I didn't notice.
I went to the small vanity mirror.
Tied my hair.
Fixed my shirt.
Avoided looking back at him.
Because every time I did…
my heart hurt.
Was I allowed to feel this happy?
Was I allowed to hope he wanted a life with me?
Or was I just a moment of comfort in between battles I didn't know existed?
When I turned around again, Dante was still sitting on the edge of my bed — elbows on his knees, shoulders tense, watching me like he didn't know how to start something he needed to say.
I forced a smile.
Pretended everything was normal.
"Want breakfast?" I asked. "Coffee?"
He stood slowly.
Walked toward me.
He didn't touch me.
But he stood close enough to make my breath stop.
"I missed you," he said softly.
My lips parted.
My heartbeat quickened painfully.
"I… missed you too," I whispered.
He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
His fingers lingered on my cheek for one second too long.
But there was still something in his eyes.
A weight.
A fear.
A decision he wasn't ready to speak.
I swallowed the uneasiness.
Because for now…
he was here.
Holding me with his gaze.
Choosing me in this small, quiet morning.
Before anything else breaks.