Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Levi
Her words hang in the air, and for the first time in years, I feel like there’s a glimmer of hope between us. But the vulnerability in her eyes, the hesitation in her voice—it cuts me deeper than I expected.
I reach for her hand, my movements slow and deliberate, giving her the chance to pull away. She doesn’t.
“Come with me,” I say softly.
She frowns slightly, her gaze searching mine. “Where?”
“Somewhere we can talk,” I reply. “Without the weight of this place hanging over us.”
She hesitates, her hand still in mine. For a moment, I think she might say no. But then she nods, a small, almost imperceptible motion, and I take it as my cue to lead her out of the library.
The car ride to my penthouse is quiet, the tension between us palpable. Tania sits beside me, her arms crossed loosely, her gaze fixed on the city lights outside the window. I steal a glance at her, the way the passing glow illuminates her profile, and my chest tightens.
She’s always had this way of looking untouchable, like nothing and no one could ever break her. But tonight, I see the cracks—the way her fingers twitch slightly against her arm, the way her lips press into a thin line. It makes me want to shield her, to fix everything I broke.
When we finally pull up to my building, she glances at me, her eyes questioning. “Your place?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice steady. “I thought it might be easier to talk there.”
She nods, and we step out of the car, the doorman greeting us with a polite nod as I guide her to the private elevator. The ride up is silent, the hum of the elevator the only sound between us. My pulse quickens as the numbers climb higher, anticipation mixing with a knot of uncertainty in my gut.
The elevator doors open, and we step into the penthouse. The familiar sight of the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows and the glittering city skyline stretches out before us, but tonight, it feels different. The space feels heavier, charged with the weight of everything unsaid.
“Drink?” I ask, gesturing toward the bar.
“No,” she says quietly, her arms still crossed. “I think we should get to the point.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. She walks toward the windows, her gaze distant as she looks out over the city. I follow her, stopping just a few feet away.
“Tania,” I start, my voice softer now. “I know I’ve given you every reason to doubt me. And I know I can’t undo the past. But I need you to understand that this—what we’re doing—it’s not just a game for me.”
She turns to face me, her brow furrowed. “Then what is it?”
“It’s me trying to make things right,” I say, stepping closer. “It’s me trying to show you that I’m not the same man I was three years ago. That I care about you. That I never stopped.”
Her breath catches, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, the space between us feels like a chasm, impossible to cross. But then she takes a step closer, her voice trembling as she speaks.
“I want to believe you, Levi,” she says. “But I don’t know if I can.”
“You don’t have to believe me tonight,” I say, my voice low. “Just let me prove it to you.”
Her gaze flicks to my lips, and my heart pounds in my chest. I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull back, but she doesn’t. When our lips meet, it’s like the rest of the world falls away. The kiss is slow at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, the intensity between us igniting like a spark to dry wood.
My hands move to her waist, pulling her closer, and she melts into me, her fingers tangling in my hair. The line between fake and real dissolves completely, and all I can think about is her—the way she feels, the way she tastes, the way she makes me forget everything else.
“Levi,” she whispers against my lips, her voice shaky but sure.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my forehead resting against hers. “And I will.”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she pulls me closer, her lips finding mine again, and it’s all the confirmation I need.
The night unfolds in a blur of heat and longing, the barriers between us breaking down completely. The city lights cast a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the way her skin glows beneath my touch. Every kiss, every movement feels like an unspoken promise, a silent vow that this isn’t just about the past—it’s about everything we could be.
When we finally collapse into the sheets, tangled together and breathless, the silence that follows is heavy but not uncomfortable. I brush a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek.
“Tania,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t,” she says, her eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t ruin this.”
I nod, understanding what she means. For tonight, words aren’t necessary. We’ve already said enough.
As she drifts off to sleep in my arms, I stare at the ceiling, my mind racing. The line between fake and real has been obliterated, and there’s no going back now. Whatever happens next, I know one thing for certain.
I’m not letting her go again.