Aurora was aware that Satoru wasn’t doing as well as he pretended. It wasn’t that she saw through him; it was just common sense.

Nobody, not even Satoru, could endure as much as he did and be fine.

She just didn’t think it would ever get this bad…

“I told you not to make a habit out of this,” she said, knowing by now that he probably didn’t even remember the last time. “God, you’re a mess,” she muttered under her breath, the cold turning it into a visible puff that lingered for a moment before disappearing.

She made sure to keep her critical comments to herself, knowing how emotional he could be when he was intoxicated.

Turning to alcohol was the last thing Aurora expected Satoru to do. She was sure it meant he felt like he had nowhere else to turn.

It had become a habit: he’d get flat-out drunk and then call her number. But he really had the nerve to call her in this weather.

She was worried, of course. But when he was sober, he wouldn’t even let her bring up the topic.

Hell, he’d hardly talk to her...

But when he was drunk, that was a different story. Every word that slipped out of his drunken mouth was a confession of love. He’d whine if she so much as left his side, complain if she criticized him—he was driving her crazy with his antics.

She was almost glad he’d forget all of it by morning.