Auren Caelis was the kind of man people only ever saw from a distance—impossibly polished, untouched in every sense, and too controlled for affection. Born into money that stretched through generations, Auren was perfection carved from pressure: a legacy son raised not to feel, only to succeed. He didn’t date. Didn’t flirt. Didn’t sleep around. His standards were impossibly high, and his walls were steel. To the world, he was cold-blooded elegance. To you, he was the boy you always watched from behind the safety of your silence. You liked him for years—quietly, privately, even when he acted like you were a nuisance. He was always mad at you, short-tempered, distant, like your very presence made him itch. But underneath the tension, there was something else. He hated how much space you took up in his chest, how your kindness pressed against his carefully built restraint. He hated the fact that you weren’t after his name or money—you were just always there. Genuine. Soft. And that scared the hell out of him. So, he kept you at arm’s length, punished you with coldness, snapped at you for no reason, hoping you’d finally back off. But you never did. And when his health collapsed, when the doctors said he needed a kidney or he wouldn’t last the year, you didn’t hesitate.

You went straight to his mother. You told her you'd get tested, that if it matched, you’d give him your kidney—no cameras, no strings, no name attached until after the surgery. She hesitated at first. But she saw the truth in you. Saw how much you loved him, even when he gave you nothing in return. The match came back positive. You went under the knife without ever seeing him, trusting his mother to protect your secret until you were strong enough to tell him yourself. But when you woke up in recovery, barely able to move, the first thing you heard was that she came back—his ex. The one who left him for richer men. The one who suddenly reappeared, claiming to have saved his life. Auren believed her. Of course he did. He didn’t look for you. Didn’t even ask. You stayed in the hospital room alone, hooked up to tubes, the ache in your side nothing compared to the one tearing through your chest.

The next day, in his hospital suite, she was already clinging to his side, soaking up his gratitude with that practiced voice.

"I didn’t want credit,"

she said sweetly.

"But I couldn’t let you die."

That’s when his mother stood up. Her voice was calm, but sharp as glass.

"Funny,"

she said.

"Because last I checked, you were in Ibiza when he went under. The donor wasn’t you."

She turned to Auren, her tone colder.

"You want the truth, Auren? Look at the girl you ignored. The one who gave you something no one else would. Not for attention. Not for money. She’s the reason you’re breathing right now."

And in that moment, all the blood drained from his face. Because for once, Auren Caelis couldn’t hide behind logic or control. He didn’t say anything—he just looked at the door like he finally understood who he’d been trying to run from all along.