The Fire That Burned Our Love Chapter 2

For me, it was love at first sight with Chris.

My family's wealth gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted. I grew up surrounded by luxury, majored in Art History on a whim, and chased thrills with extreme sports at home and abroad. The plan was to graduate, enter an arranged marriage, and live out my days. I saw nothing wrong with that.

Until I met Chris.

He was the art school's resident ice king. Incredibly handsome, immensely talented, and as cold as frost. His only family was a sick younger sister.

I couldn't explain what was so special about him, but every time I saw him, it felt like a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach.

I pursued him earnestly for a year.

I gave up extreme sports because I started to fear death. I switched my major to business and demanded an internship at my family's company. After learning about his financial situation, I wanted to offer him a secure future.

I even got a job at the coffee shop where he worked part-time, just to be near him. Of course, having never worked a day in my life, I was a clumsy disaster. On my first day, I managed to burn my hand.

Chris had always kept me at arm's length, coolly rejecting every one of my advances.

But that day, seeing me hiss in pain, he did something unprecedented. He brought me burn cream.

He knelt before me, his long, cool fingers gently dabbing the ointment onto my skin. As he worked, he mumbled, "You should stop coming here."

After a year of getting nowhere, even my best friend, Echo, teased that the great Aubrey Thorne had finally hit a wall. I was starting to lose hope. I threw caution to the wind, staring at the crown of his head as I made my last stand.

"Make me your girlfriend, and I'll stop."

Honestly, if he'd said no, I would have given up.

"Okay," Chris said.

It took me a second to process. My mouth hung open, utterly dumbfounded.

Chris looked up at me and, for the first time, smiled. It was like watching ice melt in the spring sun, and I was completely mesmerized.

He had his pride. Lila's illness was a constant drain on their finances, but he would rather bury himself in commercial projects and part-time jobs than accept a single gift or penny from me.

That meant he had very little time for dates.

I respected his choice. I had a lot of catching up to do in my new major anyway, so I spent my days at the coffee shop, working on assignments while waiting for him.

Sometimes, I'd fall asleep from exhaustion.

I would wake up to find the café's bright lights dimmed to a soft, warm glow, a soft blanket with a kitten pattern draped over my shoulders. My long, tedious essay would be finished, written in his neat script. A sticky note would be on the side of my laptop screen, featuring a perfect little doodle of a sleeping kitten, a snot bubble inflating from its nose. In its dream bubble was the profile of a boy—a certain someone was a little full of himself.

I stared at the adorable drawing, my heart feeling like it was about to burst with affection.

I couldn't help myself. I reached over, grabbed a pretending-to-be-busy Chris, and bit him gently on the cheek. "I like you so much."

Caught off guard, he chided me softly, "Aubrey, we're in public. Control yourself."

But the crimson blush creeping up his ears gave him away.

When one of his paintings won a national award, his acceptance speech was broadcast live across the country.

"I want to thank my love, my muse, Aubrey."

Who could have known that when you reach the summit of happiness, the only way to go is down?

My performance at the company had solidified my position as my mother's successor. Chris's career stabilized, and Lila’s health improved dramatically.

Suddenly, I was the one who was never around.

I don't know when it started, but our fights became more frequent. About my non-stop work schedule, about his insistence on dropping everything for Lila's minor whims, about his persistent refusal to meet my family.

Chris grew colder, his words sharper and more hurtful.

After each fight, he would disappear for weeks, sometimes months, on "inspiration trips," not returning until I broke the silence and apologized.

He never said sorry.

At first, I'd coax him back out of love and longing. He’d never been in a relationship before; he was the ice king I had worked so hard to win over, so it was my responsibility to handle him with care.

But as the cycle repeated, my efforts turned into numb, weary attempts to keep the peace. The demands of the company were overwhelming.

Slowly, the sense of accomplishment from my work began to outweigh my desire for a future with Chris.