Aurora was hunched over her laptop in the lobby, glasses perched on her nose, a half-finished coffee cooling beside her. She didn’t notice Joško at first — too busy typing out another caption draft for tomorrow’s posts. He spotted her instantly though. Instead of heading for the snack table, he veered toward her. “Working hard or hardly working?” he teased as he pulled out the chair across from her without asking. Aurora looked up slowly, her expression unreadable. “Depends who’s asking.” The cool tone caught him off guard. He chuckled lightly, trying again. “Relax, I’m not here to mess up your… spreadsheets, or whatever that is. Just thought I’d save you from drowning in emails.” Normally, Aurora would’ve shot back with something warm, maybe even laughed. But now, she just turned back to her screen. “You don’t need to worry about me, Joško. Go get your snacks.” His smirk faltered. For a moment he just studied her, waiting for the softness he remembered to show up. It didn’t. “You’re not usually this cold,” he said finally, his voice quieter, curiosity edging into guilt. She clicked her pen, eyes never leaving her notes. “People change.” That stung. He leaned back in the chair, the weight of memory pressing in — her lips on his in Qatar, the way she’d looked at him that night. And then, how he’d let it all slip away. The women, the headlines, his silence. For the first time in a long while, Joško had no clever line to throw back. Guilt flickered across his face.