A Love Unseen

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers wafted through the air, enveloping Aurora Wynter in the serene atmosphere of Regina Pembly's estate gardens. Regina and her classmates from junior high school were no ordinary teenagers, but young ladies from prestigious families, each with roots so deep in high society they could summon the world with a whisper.

Basically a bunch of divas whose idea of leisure is blowing millions and trash-talking each other with fancy words over tea, Aurora groaned internally, wishing she could be anywhere but here. If it weren't for her grandfather's insistence that she "get out of the house more," she wouldn't have been caught dead among these perfectly manicured wolves.

Shaking the thought from her head-literally-Aurora redirected her focus to the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the garden. Its heat was gentle, tempered by the shade of ancient oak trees arching overhead.

The garden, rumored to be one of the most ethereal in all of England, was living up to its reputation. It looked and felt like something from a fairytale. Aurora took a deep breath, feeling the softness of the grass beneath her feet through her branded flats. The rustle of leaves in the breeze, the fragrant flowers, the chirping birds-everything was just right.

Well... almost perfect. If only she could tune out the girls chattering endlessly about a book they clearly hadn't read.

Half-heartedly, Aurora listened to the discussion unfolding around her. Her gaze drifted across the group. The ladies of the book club sat in coordinated postures, their faces animated with faux engagement as they shared their thoughts on the fairly decent-yet outrageously overpriced-novel.

Among them, one teenager stood out: *Lilah Redmond, the group's de facto leader. Known for her beauty and calm authority, Lilah's words always carried weight. She was probably the only one who actually *did the reading.

At just fifteen, Lilah was more poised and mature than the rest, earning her admiration from everyone in their social circle. She was everything Aurora wasn't-a girl who commanded the room with a single glance. Aurora, by contrast, was soft-spoken and would rather eat her own thoughts than voice them out loud.

"...I think she's weak," one of the girls said after a pause in conversation, her voice dripping with disdain. "She lets people walk all over her. Pathetic."

Aurora blinked, startled. Despite herself, her eyes briefly met Lilah's from across the circle-a fleeting glance that left her feeling even smaller than she already did.

Lilah's expression remained serene, but there was a glint in her eyes. A glimmer of superiority. Aurora quickly lowered her head, redirecting her gaze to the flowers at her side.

"It's never wise to let people take advantage of you," Lilah said, her voice composed and deliberate.

The words hung in the air, charged with subtle judgment. Aurora felt a chill run down her spine. The conversation was shifting-this wasn't just about the book anymore. This was a jab. And Aurora had no doubt who it was aimed at.

As the discussion continued, Aurora stayed quiet, her eyes flitting from one girl to the next as they offered their opinions.

"I think she's relatable," said another girl, her voice softer. "We've all felt powerless at some point."

Aurora nodded faintly to herself. Exactly. She could relate to those moments-when you felt like no one saw you, when your words didn't matter. Just like now, she thought, her shoulders slumping.

Lilah stirred her tea gently. "That's exactly my point," she said. "We can't let those moments define us. We have to learn to stand up for ourselves, to assert power and dominance. Because if we don't, it doesn't matter if you're a pampered princess-you'll still be no different from... an ordinary loser."

Pampered princess... ordinary loser?

An awkward silence followed-so thick it could be cut with a knife. Everyone knew who she meant. But no one said a word. Not even Aurora.

She clenched her fists, nails pressing into her palms. A wave of self-doubt washed over her. Has she been letting others define her? Yes. Has she been too passive? Definitely. Was she ever going to speak up?

Definitely not.

Aurora sighed, keeping her head down. Around her, the girls slowly moved on from the tension, chattering and gathering their things as the tea party came to an end. Cliques reformed, polite giggles resumed, and Lilah remained the centerpiece of it all-surrounded by admiration and sunlight.

Aurora felt herself shrinking. The walls, once floral and bright, seemed to close in. The garden lost its glow. Her eyes darted to the stares, the whispers, the pity.

"They all hate me, don't they?" she thought, curling into herself. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in them.

Then-

"Aurora."

The voice was distant. Soft. But... male?

She lifted her head, startled. No men had been invited to the tea party. She scanned the garden-just girls in pastel dresses, sipping what remained of their tea.

"Aurora, can you hear me?"

The voice grew louder. Insistent. The laughter around her faded. Her surroundings dulled at the edges. Confused, she squinted into the blur.

"Rory, you need to wake up. Otherwise, we'll have to call the doctor."

Wake up? she thought, panic setting in. What's happening?

A sudden headache struck her hard, like a whip crack behind her eyes. The garden wavered, colors bleeding into each other. The sunlight dimmed.

And then-

Darkness.

_________

Blinking twice, Aurora's eyes finally open, adjusting to the glaring lights in the room. Her gaze meets the concerned faces of her parents first.

"Mom? Dad?" she whispers.

Her mother smiles warmly in response. "We're right here, sweetie. Are you feeling okay?"

Aurora nods, taking a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine."

Two more voices chime in almost immediately after, laced with concern. "Are you sure you're fine, dear? We could call the doctor over..."

"I don't need a doctor, Auntie, Uncle. I'm perfectly fine. You don't need to worry," Aurora chuckles, amused at how nervous they are.

"You can't blame us, dear. You fainting like that in the middle of the hall gave all of us a scare. As a matter of fact, my poker-faced son didn't look so good either-and that alone shows how alarming the situation was," the middle-aged woman adds, her hands on her hips.

At the mention of her son, Aurora sits up straighter on the couch, but before she can rise, she feels a gentle tug on her hand. Turning to her right, she sees Landon squatting beside her.

"Are you alright, Rory?" he asks, his eyes filled with concern.

"Huh?" she responds dumbly, caught off guard.

"I asked if you're feeling alright?" he repeats, the worry lines on his forehead deepening.

"He's worried about me," Aurora thinks in disbelief, her heart fluttering. The person in question-Landon Wellesley-is not just a dear friend but the only person she's ever truly loved. He rarely shows emotion, known for his aloof demeanor and quiet strength, and yet here he is, kneeling beside her, eyes filled with concern.

Aurora smiles sweetly, blinking back tears. "Yes."

"Good. Let's get you on your feet then. I'll help you up slowly, okay?" Landon says, and once she nods, he takes both of her hands in his and helps her stand, making sure she's steady before letting go.

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor, dear?" Axel Wynter, her father, asks again, eyeing his daughter's petite yet lovely frame.

"I'm perfectly fine, Dad, really... I can even do this," Aurora says cheerfully and begins to twirl playfully-only to lose her balance and stumble straight into a firm chest.

She steadies herself with one hand on her forehead, only to meet Landon's subtle glare. He flicks her nose gently, and her face turns an interesting shade of crimson.

"Stay still, Rory," he says with a faint smirk, "otherwise you'll pass out again-and this time it won't be because of my proposal."

"Oh." Aurora covers her face in embarrassment, which earns a round of chuckles from their loved ones and nearby guests who had gathered out of concern.

She steps out of Landon's arms and finally takes in her surroundings. The grand hall glows with opulence-elegant decor, a gentle hum of conversation, and the soft strains of classical music in the background. A moderately sized stage stands prominently with a floral backdrop that reads "50th Anniversary."

The buffet tables along the walls are laden with delicacies: desserts, entrées, and sparkling drinks-a glorious spread that would be mostly untouched by their diet-conscious, high-society guests.

Pushing aside that mildly depressing thought, Aurora chooses to focus on something-or rather, someone-who never fails to lift her mood: Landon Wellesley.

At twenty-seven, he stands tall, exuding an air of confident sophistication. His piercing blue eyes gleam with quiet intensity, perfectly matched by the tailored navy-blue suit that hugs his lean yet powerful frame. His dark hair is styled impeccably, a touch of polished elegance completing his entire look. He is, and will always be, her dream man.

"Seen enough yet?" Landon raises a brow.

Aurora grins sheepishly. "Never."

He clears his throat to mask the smile tugging at his lips. His voice is low and husky. "I take it you're perfectly fine now... so can I finally get a response to my question?"

"What question?" Aurora blinks, confused.

She hasn't noticed the increasing number of guests turning their attention toward them, drawn by the earlier commotion and their whispered curiosity about the Wynters' heiress fainting.

"I asked if you will marry me," Landon says, voice firm and unwavering.

The room falls silent. All eyes turn to Aurora.

Her heart skips a beat as she gazes at Landon, her mind reeling under the weight of his words.

You know when good news is like a surprise party in your brain? It's like-BAM! Your heart's racing, your mind's blown, and suddenly, you're somewhere way past cloud nine.

Well, being emotionally overwhelmed is when all that good energy gets jammed up in your body and your system's like, "Peace out, I need a nap." Like when your crush asks you out, and you just stand there frozen, thinking, Is this real life? And then the excitement starts to sound like angels singing that one hymn you've only ever heard at funerals.

Aurora "Rory" Wynter was exactly there.

She stared at Landon like he was a mythical creature-unreal, intimidating, and completely breathtaking. It made no sense, but then again, neither did the fact that he had just proposed.

The longer she looked at his perfect face, the more emotions rushed in: excitement, happiness, disbelief, and a wild flutter of nerves. No wonder I passed out, she thought. How's a girl supposed to survive when he drops a line like that-with an intense glow like he's the angel himself?

She forced herself to calm down and locked eyes with him again, noting the soft flicker of expectation in his usually unreadable expression.

"In case you were wondering, I'd appreciate an answer this time before you lose consciousness again," Landon teased, his lips quirking slightly as he pulled a small ring box from his pocket and sank to one knee.

Aurora laughed breathlessly, her heart full and unsteady. This was real. As she gazed into his eyes, memories poured in-late-night conversations, silent support during her low points, the laughter, the long waits, the hope.

And in those famously aloof blue eyes, she finally saw more than warmth built on friendship. She saw a subtle promise. Not fireworks, not fantasy. But something steady. Something she'd waited years for.

With a beaming smile, she extended her left hand and nodded vigorously. "Yes, Landon. Yes, I'll marry you!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers as Landon slipped the ring onto her finger. Joy surged in Aurora's chest, and Landon leaned in to place a soft, polite kiss on her cheek.

Their parents and grandfathers rushed forward, beaming with pride.

"Congratulations, dear!" exclaimed Catherine Wynter, who had been buzzing with excitement since learning of Landon's plan. She grabbed her daughter's hand. "We're so thrilled about the union... Congratulations, baby."

Landon's grandfather, a stern but kind-eyed man who had doted on Aurora since the first time she called him Grandpa, stepped forward. "Landon, promise us you'll love and treat Aurora well."

There was a barely perceptible beat. Landon's expression stiffened for a split second before settling into a neutral smile. "I'll do my very best," he said, his voice calm and deliberate.

A brief silence followed before the room exploded again into more applause.

Julian Wynter, Aurora's father, clapped Landon on the back, managing a small smile. "That's all any of us can ask for... Just don't hurt her."

His wife shot him a warning scowl, while Aurora gave him a grateful glance. Both women knew he hadn't exactly been Landon's biggest fan, but he loved Aurora enough to step aside for her happiness.

Her grandfather, on the other hand, remained silent. His sharp, shrewd gaze was fixed on Landon, jaw set tight. He didn't say a word, but the look he gave promised hell if anything were to happen to his granddaughter.

The celebration carried on well into the evening. Friends, business partners, and acquaintances came forward to offer congratulations. Laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the hall. Aurora floated from dance to dance, a vision in a peach-colored gown that shimmered with every turn. The delicate lace, the intricate beadwork, the way her silky auburn hair swirled-it was like something out of a fairy tale.

Looking at her now, no one would have guessed she was once a timid flower who rarely left the house. Everything had changed after she met Landon. She had wanted to grow-for him. And although it had taken longer than she'd hoped, here she was now, dancing in his arms, a ring on her finger.

The hours flew by in a blur of warm smiles and familiar faces. Before long, the clock struck midnight, and the party began to wind down. Her parents were among the first to leave, followed by Landon's family.

As the last guests trickled out, Landon approached. "I can drive you home, if you'd like."

Aurora smiled. "Thank you, Landon, but my driver's already here. You should go home and get some rest. You've had a long day."

He looked reluctant but nodded. "You're right. I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded again, her smile soft. He leaned in, brushed her cheek with a kiss, and left.

Once alone, Aurora gathered her things and stepped out of the ballroom. Her heels pinched with every step, and she longed to rip them off-but she kept going, back straight, stride graceful. If her mom ever caught her barefoot on a red carpet, she'd kill her. Then kill her dad for not stopping it.

"No way I'm dying the day after my engagement," she muttered, trying to laugh off the pain.

"Goodnight, Miss Wynter," the receptionist called. Aurora waved and replied politely, "Goodnight."

An hour later, the car pulled up in front of her villa. Aurora stepped out with the help of her driver.

"Are you alright, Miss Wynter?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she lied with a smile, already half-dreaming of her bed.

She took a deep breath and started toward the door. After five steps, her heel snagged on the pavement. She pitched forward with a gasp-

"Son of a-" she began, but before she could hit the ground, someone caught her arm and steadied her.

"Thank you," she exhaled, looking up with relief, expecting to see her driver.

But the face that met hers was not his.

Her eyes widened in surprise.