Chapter 10 #2
I read carefully. Everything is reasonable. They’ve laid out clear boundaries, accountability measures, and protections for both of us. I sign.
"One more thing," Patricia says as I stand to leave. "Off the record?"
"Okay?"
"I've worked for Justin Bell for almost a decade. He's professional, ethical, and deeply committed to this organization. He wouldn't risk any of that lightly." She meets my eyes. "So, whatever you two have, it must be pretty special."
My throat tightens. "It is."
"Then I wish you both the best. But keep it clean at work, understood?"
"Understood."
I make it to the parking lot before I start shaking.
It's done. Official. Real.
We can be together without it affecting our jobs.
My phone buzzes.
Justin: How did it go?
Me: Good. Really good. Same conditions as you?
Justin: Yes. Come to my office. Back door. Now.
I shouldn't. We just promised to keep things professional at work.
But I go anyway.
The back entrance to the administrative building is quiet, rarely used. I slip inside, navigate the hallway to Justin's office. The door is cracked open.
I push inside.
He's there, standing by the window, and the second the door closes and locks behind me he's moving, crossing the space, pulling me into his arms.
"It's okay," he breathes against my hair. "We're okay."
"I know. I just—" I can't finish the sentence. Relief and emotion crash over me all at once.
He holds me tighter. "I've got you."
We stand like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other, letting the tension drain away.
"We did it," I finally say. "We actually did it. I get to keep my job and my relationship."
"Did you doubt we would?"
"Maybe a little."
He pulls back, cups my face. "Never doubt me when it comes to keeping you."
"Okay."
"Say it."
"I won't doubt you."
"Good girl." He kisses me, deep and thorough, and I melt into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm. "Tonight. My place. We're celebrating."
"How?"
His smile is wicked. "You'll see."
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I'm floating, untethered, giddy with relief. We did it. We're official. We get to be together.
When my shift ends, I practically run to my car.
Me: On my way.
Justin: Good. I have plans for you.
Me: Should I be nervous?
Justin: Definitely.
I drive to his place with butterflies in my stomach, anticipation making my skin tingle. When I pull into the driveway, the house is lit up, warm and welcoming.
He opens the door before I knock, pulls me inside, kisses me breathless.
"Hi," I gasp when he finally lets me breathe.
"Hi." He takes my hand, leads me toward the dining room. "Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm asking you to."
I close them. He guides me forward, his hand steady on my waist.
"Okay," he says. "Open."
The dining room is transformed. Candles everywhere, they are on the table, the mantle, the windowsills. Rose petals are scattered across the table. Two place settings with what looks like an elaborate meal already plated.
"Justin," I breathe. "This is—"
"A celebration. Of us. Of making it through the hard part." He pulls out my chair. "Sit."
I do, taking in the scene. Filet mignon, roasted vegetables, what looks like homemade mashed potatoes. The wine already poured. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.
"You made all this?"
"I did." He settles across from me. "You're worth the effort."
My chest tightens. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll stay. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every night you can." He produces a key to his house and hands it to me. We’re moving fast… but I don’t care. It feels right.
"Yes. Of course yes."
We eat slowly, talking about the HR meeting, the conditions, what it means for us going forward. He's thought through everything including how we'll handle work events, what we'll tell people who ask, and how we'll maintain boundaries.
"You really plan for every contingency," I observe.
"I told you. I don't do halfway." He reaches across the table, takes my hand. "But I'm also learning to be flexible. To let things unfold naturally."
"Are you?"
"With you, yes." He stands, comes around to my side of the table. "Come here."
I stand, and he pulls me close, swaying gently even though there's no music.
"What are we doing?" I ask.
"Dancing. Or my version of it."
"You don't dance?"
"Not usually. But you make me want to try new things."
We sway together in the candlelight, and it's not graceful or practiced, but it's perfect. He's solid and warm, and I'm safe in his arms.
"Holly," he says quietly. "I need you to know something."
"Okay."
"This isn't temporary for me. This isn't a phase, game, or an experiment. You're it."
My breath catches. "It?"
"The person I want. The person I choose. Every day." He pulls back to look at me. "I know it's fast. I know we're still figuring things out. But I need you to know—I'm in this. Completely."
Tears prick my eyes. "I'm in this too."
"Good." He wipes away a tear with his thumb. "Because I have plans for us."
"What kind of plans?"
"Long-term ones." His mouth curves. "But first, short-term. Like right now."
"What's right now?"
"Right now, I'm going to take you upstairs and show you exactly how happy I am that we made it through today without any issues or complications."
He leads me upstairs, to his bedroom where more candles are burning, the bed turned down, soft music playing from somewhere.
"You really planned this," I breathe. He’d gone through so much trouble just for me. For me. It’s hard to believe.
"I told you. I plan everything." He cups my face. "But with you, I'm also learning to feel everything. To let myself want without holding back."
"Then want me."
His eyes darken. "I’m not sure I could want anyone or anything more than I want you."
He kisses me slow and deep, his hands mapping my body with reverent attention. We undress each other carefully, taking our time, and when we finally come together it feels different from before. More intentional.
This is us choosing each other. Committing to each other. Because we want this. We want each other.
After, we lie tangled in sheets, skin cooling, hearts still racing.
"That was—" I can't find the words.
"Perfect," he finishes. "You're perfect."
"I'm not."
"To me, you are." He pulls me closer. "And that's all that matters."
I drift off wrapped in his warmth, safe and held and exactly where I belong.