What comes after

Isabel’s POV

It’s been a month.

I stand quietly by the doorway of Aurora’s room, leaning on the frame as I watch her in front of the mirror. Her face is soft, glowing, with excitement she’s trying so hard to suppress blooming right beneath the surface. She smooths her dress one more time, tilting her head left, then right, deciding whether to pull her hair back or let it fall around her shoulders.

I clear my throat.

Aurora turns sharply, startled, then sighs when she sees me. “Seriously?” she mutters, though there’s a smile tugging at her lips.

I step in, arms folded, eyes trailing from the way her dress hugs her to the sparkle in her eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone,” I say, my voice teasing.

She lifts her chin with a dramatic flick. “I’m not trying to.”

I smirk and lift my phone, turning the screen toward her. It’s a photo from the recent commercial shoot—her and Richard, laughing in mid-shot, completely unaware of the camera. “People are comment