Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Levi
The night feels too quiet. The city lights twinkle through the penthouse windows, but the room is heavy with the tension Tania and I left unresolved. She asked for space, and I gave it to her. But every second apart feels like a chasm widening between us, and I can’t let it grow any further.
I find her sitting by the window, her knees pulled to her chest as she stares out at the skyline. Her face is bathed in the soft glow of the city, and my chest tightens at the sight of her. She’s beautiful, even when she’s angry, even when she’s hurting.
Especially when she’s hurting.
“Tania,” I say softly, stepping into the room.
She doesn’t look at me, her voice quiet but firm. “Levi, I told you I needed space.”
“And I gave it to you,” I reply, keeping my tone calm. “But I can’t stand the thought of you sitting here, thinking things that aren’t true.”
She exhales sharply, finally turning to face me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and it makes my chest ache. “Aren’t they? You said it yourself—I’m perfect for the merger. Playing the role flawlessly. That’s all this has ever been to you, hasn’t it?”
“No,” I say firmly, crossing the room to sit beside her. “It’s not. It’s never been just that.”
She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Then what is it, Levi? Because I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
I reach for her hand, my movements slow and deliberate, giving her the chance to pull away. She doesn’t. Instead, she looks at me, her eyes searching mine, and I take a deep breath, trying to find the words that will make her understand.
“When I said you were perfect for this,” I begin, my voice soft, “I didn’t just mean for the merger. I meant for me. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed, Tania. And the thought of losing you again—it terrifies me.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, the hardness in her expression falters. “Then why did you say those things?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” I admit, my lips twitching into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Because I thought I could keep this businesslike, that I could keep my feelings out of it. But the truth is, I’ve never been able to do that with you.”
She stares at me, her eyes glistening, and I feel like the air between us is humming with unspoken words, emotions too big to contain.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” I say, my voice trembling. “Not just your laugh, or the way you always know what to say. I’ve missed the way you make me feel like I can be better, like I can be more than this life I’ve built.”
“Levi...” she whispers, her voice breaking.
I reach up, brushing a tear from her cheek with my thumb, and she leans into my touch. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, and I take it as a sign to keep going.
“I know I’ve hurt you,” I say softly. “And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I’m asking for one anyway. Not for the merger, not for the deal. For us.”
Her lips part, and she looks at me like she’s seeing something she wasn’t expecting. For a moment, I think she might push me away again. But then she reaches up, her hand resting lightly against my chest.
“Why do you always know exactly what to say?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“I don’t,” I admit with a small smile. “I’m just speaking from the heart.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, and I lean closer, my forehead brushing hers. “Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I will.”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she closes the distance between us, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepens. It’s not just a kiss—it’s an unraveling, a breaking down of every wall we’ve built between us.
I pull her closer, my hands sliding to her waist as her fingers tangle in my hair. The world outside fades away, leaving only the warmth of her body against mine, the way she whispers my name like it’s the only thing that matters.
“Tania,” I murmur against her lips, my voice filled with everything I can’t put into words.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “Levi,” she says softly. “This... it doesn’t feel fake anymore.”
“It never was,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Not for me.”
Her lips find mine again, and this time, there’s no hesitation, no doubt. The line between fake and real disappears completely as we move to the couch, the heat between us building with every touch, every kiss.
The night unfolds in a haze of passion and unspoken promises. The way she clings to me, the way her breath hitches when I whisper her name—it’s everything I didn’t know I was missing. It’s raw, real, and entirely ours.
When we finally collapse onto the bed, tangled in the sheets, I brush my fingers along her cheek, watching as her eyes flutter open.
“What?” she asks, her voice drowsy but curious.
“Nothing,” I say, my lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m just... happy.”
She lets out a soft laugh, her head resting against my chest. “Me too,” she admits, her voice barely audible.
I press a kiss to her forehead, my heart full in a way it hasn’t been in years.