A Love Unseen

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers wafts through the air, enveloping Aurora Wynter in the serene atmosphere of Regina Pembly's estate gardens. Regina, together with the ladies present, are her classmates from junior high school, and they all just happen to be on top of the elite chain, with each having roots that propel them to the sky at their slightest requests.

Shaking that thought out of her head, Aurora chooses to direct her focus on the afternoon sun as it casts a warm glow, its gentle heat tempered by the shade of ancient oak trees. The garden, rumored to be among the most comfortable in all of England, lives up to its reputation. Aurora feels the soft grass beneath her feet, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, all accompanied by the sweet chirping sounds of birds.

As she absent-mindedly listens to the discussion unfolding around her, Aurora's gaze drifts across the gathering, taking in the lively discussion. The ladies of the book club sit in comfortable silence, their faces animated as they share their thoughts on the novel. Lilah Redmond, the group's de facto leader, speaks with calm authority, her words carrying the weight of experience.Despite being just fifteen, she is more poised and mature, which earns her respect in the hearts of each and every person in their social circle.

The conversation turns to the novel's protagonist, and Aurora's attention is drawn back in. 'I think she's weak,' one of the women says, her voice tinged with disdain. 'She lets people walk all over her.' Aurora's eyes briefly meet Lilah's across the circle, and she senses a subtle challenge in Lilah's gaze.

Lilah's expression is serene, but her eyes gleam with a hint of superiority, causing Aurora to nervously bow her head and redirect her gaze to the flowers next to her. "It's never nice to let people take advantage of you," Lilah says, her voice measured. The words hang in the air, a subtle challenge to the group.

Aurora feels a shiver run down her spine as she realizes the conversation has become more than just a discussion about a book – it's a chance for each girl to contest Lilah eloquently and hopefully gain recognition from her. As the conversation continues, Aurora finds herself drawn into the discussion. She listens intently, her eyes subtly darting between the speakers.

"...I think she's relatable," another woman says, her voice soft. "We've all been in situations where we feel powerless." Aurora nods inwardly, recognizing the truth in the woman's words. She recalls moments from her own past, times when she felt invisible, overlooked, and underestimated.

"Just like now," she thinks, her shoulders slumping in dejection. Lilah's voice cuts through her reverie. "But that's exactly my point. We can't let ourselves be defined by those moments. We must learn to stand up for ourselves, to assert our own power and dominance." Aurora feels a pang of self-doubt with each new sentence from Lilah. Is she letting others define her? Is she being too passive, too willing to blend into the background?

As the discussion draws to a close, Aurora realizes she's been lost in thought. The other women are smiling, chatting, and gathering their things, each forming their own cliques as always, leaving her alone.

Aurora feels invincible and uncomfortable, unable to hold a conversation with the other ladies, who chat with ease. She wishes she could be like Lilah, who effortlessly directs the course of any conversation.

As she watches the ladies interact, Aurora's mind begins to wander. She feels a pang of insecurity, wondering why she can't be more like them.

Suddenly, she hears someone call out her name. "Aurora!" The voice is distant and unclear, but it grows louder, more insistent, and then it becomes masculine.

"Aurora, can you hear me?" The voice echoes in her mind, growing fainter, then louder again. "Aurora, what's wrong? Are you listening to me?" Aurora's gaze drifts, her eyes unfocusing.

And then, suddenly, she snaps back to reality. She finds herself standing in a grand ballroom, surrounded by opulent decorations, the gentle hum of conversation, and the soft strains of classical music.

Landon Wellesley stands before her, his eyes locked on hers, a small box open in his hand. At twenty-seven, he stands tall, exuding an air of confident sophistication.

His piercing blue eyes seem to gleam with a quiet intensity, perfectly matched by the tailored navy blue suit that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean physique. His dark hair is styled impeccably, adding a touch of polished elegance to his overall demeanor; all in all, he is and will forever be Aurora's dream man.

"Are you alright, Rory?" Landon asks, to which Aurora responds dumbly, "huh?" "I was asking if you're feeling alright?" he repeats, worry lines appearing on his forehead.

Aurora smiles sweetly and responds with a positive "yes." "OK, then, so as I was saying... Aurora Wynter," he clears his throat, his voice low and husky, "will you marry me?"

The room falls silent, all eyes on Aurora. Aurora's heart skips a beat as she gazes at Landon, her mind reeling with the weight of his question.

She feels a rush of emotions: excitement, happiness, and a hint of trepidation. As she looks into Landon's eyes, she sees a hint of expectation there, and her doubts begin to fade.

She thinks about their years together, the laughter, the adventures, and the pain and the road to recovery – in short, everything they've shared. Is he truly ready to let me in?? She can't help but wonder internally grabbing her dress with quivering hands.

As if sensing her unease Landon claps her right hand and answers yes to her question with his eyes and a calm smile.

That alone was enough to calm her nerves so Aurora nods meekly. "Yes, Landon. Yes, I'll marry you." The room erupts into applause as Landon slides the ring onto her finger.

Aurora feels a surge of joy, and Landon leans in, pecking her cheek with a small, polite smile.

Their respective parents and grandfathers rush forward, beaming with joy. "Congratulations, dear!" Aurora's mother is over the moon, for she knows better than anyone just how much effort Aurora has invested in Landon, despite her father's disapproval.

So she grabs her daughter's hand in hers and exclaims, "We're so thrilled about the union... Congratulations, baby."

Landon's grandfather, a stern-looking man with a kind eye, who's always loved Alanna since the day she called him Grandpa in her three-year-old voice and asked for a hug, speaks up. "Landon, promise us you'll love and treat Aurora well." Landon's expression remains neutral, his voice measured. "I'll do my very best."

The room falls silent for a moment, before erupting into more applause and congratulations. Aurora's father manages to smile, patting Landon on the back. "That's all any of us can ask for... Just don't hurt her," he says, earning a scowl from his wife and a happy smile from his daughter.

However, Aurora's grandfather, a shrewd-eyed man with a sharp jawline, looks less convinced but chooses to hold his tongue because of the pleading look Aurora frequently shoots his way. Instead, he settles for gazing at Landon with a piercing stare, his expression unreadable but promising death if his precious granddaughter should suffer any injustice.

As the night wears on, the congratulations continue to pour in. Business partners and acquaintances alike approach Aurora and Landon, offering their well-wishes and words of praise. The room is abuzz with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses.

The males from both the Wynter's and Wellesley family take turns dancing with Aurora, who is more than happy to oblige. As they waltz in the center of the hall, Aurora dazzles in a stunning peach-colored gown, perfectly capturing her ethereal charm. The fitted, floor-length dress hugs her curves, exuding mature sophistication.

Delicate lace details, intricate beading, and sparkling silver accessories add a whimsical touch, framing her heart-shaped face and radiant complexion. High, chic heels complete her glamorous look, and her waist-length hair, silky auburn hair swirls with every spin she does, casting a warm, enchanting spell over all who lay eyes on her.

Time skips forward, and before long, the clock strikes midnight. The party begins to wind down, and guests start to bid their farewells. Aurora's parents and grandfather are among the first to leave, followed by Landon's family.

As the crowd thins, Landon turns to Aurora and offers, "I can drive you home, if you'd like." Aurora smiles sweetly and declines. "Thank you, Landon, but my driver can take me home. You should leave first and get some rest. Driving me home would only prolong your night, and it's in the opposite direction of your place."

She would love nothing more than to enjoy his quiet company during the ride, but she is well aware of how tiring supervising the company's anniversary must have been, especially since his exhaustion has started to manifest on his handsome face after the guests left.

Landon nods in agreement. "You're right, of course. I'll see you tomorrow, then." She nods with a smile. With a brief kiss on the cheek, Landon departs, leaving Aurora to gather her things.

As she walks out of the ballroom, Aurora can't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. Her heels are killing her, and she longs to kick them off. But she refuses to give in to the temptation, knowing it would be improper.

"Goodnight, Miss Wynter," the receptionist calls out after her, and she returns a polite smile, "goodnight."

An hour later, the car pulls up in front of her condo. Aurora alights with the help of her driver, who notices her grimace. "Are you alright, Miss Wynter?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

Aurora nods, forcing a smile. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you." But as she takes five steps forward, her heel gets caught on the pavement, and she stumbles forward.

Fortunately, someone catches her arm, steadying her. "Thank you," Aurora exhales in relief, looking up at her rescuer, assuming it's her driver.

But to her surprise, it isn't her driver at all... She looks up and instead, she finds herself gazing at someone very unexpected.

He is tall, with features that stand out in a place filled with Europeans and piercing black eyes that sparkle with amusement. His dark hair is messy, and he has a small black stud in his left ear. He is wearing a coffee-brown business casual outfit, complete with a crisp white shirt and tailored trousers.

"I wasn't aware soon-to-be brides were falling off their feet today," he says, smiling wryly.