Page 75 of Movers and Fakers

“I can’t imagine,” she murmurs. “But I guess you can get used to just about anything with time, right?”

She squeezes my hand. I squeeze it back.

“Right.”

Unless, of course, time just brings about resentment. I could see Aurora growing tired of the social outings and appearances. It’s not hard to imagine her hating everything to do with the world I grew up in. She thinks regular parties are torture tactics. A gala teeming with politics and fake smiles would be the bane of her existence. I don’t know how I’m going to ask this of her.

We need time, but even then, would that help? Maybe it just puts off the pain for a later date. I can see the computer science building up ahead, and my stomach flips. If I don’t tell her soon, I’ll just keep putting it off until my parents get angry, which wouldn’t do either of us any favors.

I tug Aurora off the path and to a stop beneath a mostly barren tree. A few leaves cling to the branches, but the majority are deposited on the ground beneath our feet.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I say, forcing the words out.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, worry etched into her expression.

“Not really,” I say with a weak laugh. “My parents called.”

Her brows pull together. We haven’t talked much about my family life at all, so she doesn’t know the implications of those three words.

“What did they say?”

I pause and draw in a fortifying breath.

“They found out about us.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening a little.

“They want to meet you. I know this is all so new, but if they don’t meet you soon, I’m worried they’ll be upset whenever we are ready for an introduction.”

Some of the color drains out of her expression, but she nods.

“Okay, that makes sense. You met my parents, so if you need me to meet yours, that’s okay too.”

I rip the next Band-Aid off. “They live in New York City.”

Aurora doesn’t say anything. I can see her mind working, though, probably thinking of how terrible this is.

“We’d take a jet to the city. I can make it a day trip, but at most we’d stay one night,” I tell her quickly, hoping to soften her to the idea.

I wouldn’t blame her if she refused. She’s busy, and this is short notice, as well as likely to be unpleasant. There’s no reason for her to—

“Okay,” she says, surprising me.

“Okay?” I echo.

She dips her chin. “You’ve done so much for me, it only makes sense to return the favor. Plus, I’ve never been to New York.”

A small smile graces her lips. She’s completely unaware of our impending doom, but seeing her happy lightens the burden on my shoulders.

“Would you want to stay a night, then? I could show you around the city,” I offer.

Her eyes light up. “If it’s not too much.”

In spite of the foreboding feeling building in my chest, I can’t help but smile at her excitement.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to you, Princess.”

Chapter thirty-eight