Chapter 99: The One
Lorali Pov
Where is he?
I throw the ball against the wall, catching it as it bounces back into my palm. My movements are restless and impatient. Where is my "beloved" Torin? He should be here by now. It’s out of character for him to be late. Did something go wrong?
"No," I mumble to myself, forcing calm into my voice. "Come on, Lorali. Nothing is wrong. He’s just late."
I hate when he’s here, but I hate it more when he’s nowhere to be found. The cold tiles beneath me do nothing to soothe the unease crawling under my skin. I huff, pressing the ball harder into my palm. Why do I feel this way? Why does it feel like I am absolutely Fucked?
A knock at the door snaps my head up. My heart leaps, hoping it’s Torin, though I know he never knocks. "Come in," I shout, my voice sharper than intended.
The door opens, and stepping inside is... Erin?
It’s not the person I was expecting, but I cannot say I’m disappointed.
"Good morning..." he greets nervously, clearing his throat. My eyes widen in surprise at his presence.
"Good morning to you too," I reply, my tone softer now.
We stand in awkward silence, the air thick between us. Finally, I speak, trying to ease the tension. "Well... what brings you here?"
He shifts, his hands fidgeting. "Well... you said... um... forgive me, I’m nervous... for some reason." He stammers, and I nod, biting back a laugh at his discomfort.
"Erin, do you have a crush on me?" I ask, noticing the way his cheeks redden, his expression betraying him. His blush deepens, and he blurts out, "I... I... yes... I do. Sorry." He shuts his eyes, as if bracing for rejection.
I chuckle, moving closer to him. He reminds me so much of myself during my days at Alma, and the weeks after I left, when everything felt uncertain and raw.
"It’s alright," I say gently, taking his hands in mine. He flinches at my touch, then slowly lowers his gaze to meet mine.
"Erin... you are good. And perhaps in another life, I would have chosen Boleyn. We might have been together and in love. But it cannot happen in this life. There can never be an us. There is no room for love in my world. But that is not to say we cannot be friends."
His eyes search mine, quiet for a moment before he nods. "Friends," he says softly. "It would be an honor to be your friend. But I cannot lie to you and tell you my crush will cease to exist."
I nod, smiling faintly. "It’s alright. Love runs through friendships. Perhaps one day, I will love you as a friend."
Something is different with him. I am not myself when he is near. If you haven’t noticed, I am not the welcoming type, but his presence doesn’t irritate me. It unsettles me in a way that feels almost... comforting.
"Oh, you never told me," I say, tilting my head. "Why are you here?"
He clears his throat again, lifting his hands from my grasp and rubbing the back of his neck. His nervousness is almost endearing.
"Well... the hospital has a little man‑made rink on the first floor. It’s to celebrate the upcoming Christmas holiday. And you said you liked skating, so... I thought you’d like to know."
His words hang in the air, simple yet thoughtful. I blink, surprised by the gesture. For a moment, the heaviness in my chest eases.
"An ice rink? How come I have not seen it?" I ask, my brows furrowing. I’ve walked through most of this hospital in boredom, wandering the halls aimlessly, and never once have I seen anything resembling an ice rink.
"Well," Erin replies, his voice quiet but steady, "it was just build for... Christmas. And... you."
The room feels warmer suddenly, though the air hasn’t changed. How is this man already head over heels from one simple meeting? Then it strikes me, I know how. It’s the same way I fell for Torin and his pack after one simple dance.
But that was fate, a bond written in the stars. There is no such bond here. Erin has fallen for me completely by choice. It’s reckless, but it’s also... cute.
"It’s not easy for you to lie, I’m guessing," I say, tilting my head, studying him.
"Not quite," he admits, his lips twitching nervously.
"Alright then. Let me put on semi‑warm clothes," I say, walking away from him toward my bathroom.
I can’t wait forever for Torin to appear.
If he wants to vanish, let him vanish. I might as well have some fun. The last time I skated was with Arabella, and even then it wasn’t for long.
I dress in a simple black tracksuit, the fabric soft against my skin, and wrap a scarf around my neck. It’s cold, though not snowing cold, we aren’t deep into winter yet. But with a stab wound I will never forgive Yurena for, I must stay warm at all times.
When I return, Erin is waiting patiently, his hands folded in front of him. Together, we make our way downstairs, into the gardens of this wonderland of a hospital.
And all I can say is that Erin drastically downplayed this whole thing.
It isn’t just an ice rink, it’s an entire Christmas‑themed market. Strings of lights twinkle overhead, vendors line the paths, and patients with their families wander happily, enjoying the festive atmosphere. The air smells of roasted nuts, sweet pastries, and spiced cider.
"This must cost a ton of money," I exclaim, my eyes wide at the sight of everything.
"I suppose it did," Erin says calmly as we walk past the stalls. "Though I cannot be sure."
"Is that a sugar stick shaped like a bunny?" I ask, pointing at one of the stalls.
"I think so. Do you want one?" He looks at me, his expression earnest.
I nod shamelessly. "Who wouldn’t want one? It’s shaped like a literal bunny!" I gasp, unable to hide my amusement.
He nods, then walks to the stall. A moment later, he returns, holding the bunny‑shaped sugar stick. "Here," he says, offering it to me.
I hesitate, my hand hovering. "Oh, you didn’t have to. I cannot accept it." I don’t want to lead him on or give him hope that his crush could possibly change anything.
"It’s a gift as a friend," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Would you not accept it then?"
I hesitate again, but he adds, "Plus, it’s free."
I lift a brow. "Free?"
"Everything here is free. It wouldn’t make sense for a free hospital to have a market that charges."
"Wow..." I say, impressed despite myself. "How is it you can keep this entire establishment running when you do things like this? You’re running at a loss."
"To run at a loss, I must be running a business," he replies. "Healthcare cannot be a business."
"You’d be the richest person in the world if you charged," I say, shaking my head with a tsk.
He shakes his head in return. "I am wealthy enough. Boleyn has enough money to last centuries. I do not aspire for more. Funding a hospital will not make me go broke."
"Now, do you want the sugar stick?" he asks, his voice so warm it could melt the cold air around us. He shakes it lightly, the bunny shape wobbling in his hand. "It’s shaped like a bunny," he adds, almost shyly.
I laugh, unable to resist the way he says it. "Fine," I reply, finally taking the sugar stick from him.
We make our way through the market, stopping a few times to look at the stalls. The lights twinkle above us, casting everything in a soft glow.
I end up with a bracelet with red, black, and gold beads strung together with little trinkets. It has my two favorite colors, and it stood out to me immediately.
Erin insisted I have it, and as I now know, it is impossible to say no to him. He is convincing in a way that feels gentle rather than forceful.
We stop in front of the rink.
It sits right at the center of the market, marvelous in its design, especially considering it was built in a single day. The ice gleams under the lights, and laughter echoes across the space.
"I’ll get the skates, be right back," Erin says, before darting off to stand in the queue.
I sit on a bench, watching the rink. Children cling to the rails, learning to balance, slipping and sliding with wide smiles.
A man falls onto his backside and laughs it off, his friends laughing with him. The entire scene brings a smile to my face.
I don’t know why, but there is something comforting about seeing strangers happy. Their joy feels contagious, warming me in a way I didn’t expect.
"Lorali Alma, is that you?"
I flinch at the sound of a familiar voice. A girl halts her skates opposite me, holding onto the little half wall that surrounds the ice. I know who she is. Astrid. The girl who lives beneath my floor.
"Astrid, that is your name, right?" I ask, tilting my head.
She smiles brightly and nods. "You remember! I didn’t expect you to ever remember my name."
Neither did I.
"I haven’t seen you in so long. I thought you were dead," she says with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
I simply smile and nod. She is still such a butterfly, ever free, ever light.
Before I can say anything else, Erin returns with the skates. Without hesitation, he kneels beside the bench. I open my mouth to protest, but he is already taking off my hospital slippers, his movements careful, almost reverent. He slides one of the skates onto my foot, his hand brushing against my bare skin.
I glance at Astrid, who watches us with wide eyes. She looks at me, then at Erin, then back at me, and her lips curve into a proud smile. She winks, mouthing the words: He’s the one, girl.
Heat rises to my cheeks, though I quickly look away. Erin doesn’t notice, he is focused entirely on fastening the skate, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Something shifts inside me. I don’t know what it is, but I feel it.