Kylian hadn’t expected her.

The event was supposed to be routine—smiles for the cameras, handshakes, polite conversation. But then, across the room, his gaze snagged on a vision in a flowing maxi dress.

Aurora.

For a second, he thought his mind was playing tricks. But no—the soft glow on her skin, the way she carried herself, the quiet confidence in her smile—it was undeniably her. Only… not the girl he remembered. This version of Aurora radiated something new, something untouchable. She looked healthier, happier, as though the years apart had only polished her into someone even more breathtaking.

Memories crashed into him without mercy.

Their laughter in the middle of the night. Her voice in his ear after a tough game. The way she’d look at him like he was just Kylian, not the superstar the world demanded him to be.

She caught his stare. For a fleeting heartbeat, their eyes locked. The air shifted, sharp and electric. And then—she turned away, pretending he wasn’t there. The rejection stung more than he cared to admit.

But when he noticed she was standing by herself, something inside him refused to let the moment slip away. He’d promised himself he’d never chase her again—not after the breakup, not after she blocked him everywhere—but now his feet moved before his mind could stop them.

Crossing the room felt like crossing years. “Aurora,” he said softly when he finally reached her.

Her shoulders stiffened. Slowly, she turned, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and caution.

For a long second, neither spoke. The silence between them was thick with everything unsaid, everything unresolved. And for the first time in years, he wasn’t Kylian Mbappé, the superstar. He was just the man who once loved her—and maybe still did.