20. Chapter Twenty #2
“Not your job. Not your father. Not whatever debt you think you owe my family.”
She draws me closer.
“You.”
My restraint begins to splinter.
But there is one more truth between us.
“Adrien.”
Simone blinks.
“What about him?”
“Every time I saw you together, it felt like someone was cutting me open.”
Her eyebrows lift.
“You were jealous.”
“I wanted to throw him through a wall.”
A smile breaks across her face.
“That is incredibly satisfying.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“It is.”
“He touched you constantly.”
“For appearances.”
“He looked at you.”
“He has eyes.”
“He slept in your hotel room.”
Color rises across her cheeks.
I narrow my eyes.
“What happened that night?”
“Nothing.”
“Simone.”
“Nothing happened.”
She exhales.
“We were never dating.”
The room becomes silent.
“What?”
“Adrien and I are friends. That’s all.”
“You kissed him in front of cameras.”
“Pretended to.”
“You shared a hotel room.”
“He slept on the couch.”
“He walked around without a shirt.”
“Adrien enjoys attention.”
My hands curl at my sides.
“Why fake a relationship?”
“His family.”
She hesitates.
“It isn’t my secret to share.”
Understanding arrives slowly.
“He’s gay?”
She nods.
“He isn’t ready for the world to know.”
I release a breath that seems to have lived inside me for months.
Simone studies my face.
“You’re relieved.”
“No.”
“You look ten years younger.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“So that night at the hotel…”
“I wanted to make you jealous.”
“You succeeded.”
I step closer.
“I didn’t sleep.”
Her smile becomes brighter.
“All I could think about was entering that room and dragging him away from you.”
“You should have.”
“I came close.”
“I know.”
I look at her.
“What does that mean?”
“Adrien heard you pacing outside.”
My eyes close.
“He thought it was hilarious.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Eventually.”
Simone laughs.
The sound loosens the final knot inside my chest.
“I’ve always wanted you,” she says.
The humor fades from her expression.
“For a long time, I thought wanting you was the same as loving you.”
She moves closer until only inches separate us.
“It isn’t.”
My pulse accelerates.
“What’s the difference?”
“Wanting you is what happens to my body when you walk into a room.”
Her gaze drops briefly toward my mouth.
“Loving you is what happens when you leave it.”
I stop breathing.
“I’ve tried to hate you.”
“I know.”
“I tried to replace you.”
My jaw tightens.
“That didn’t work either.”
“Good.”
Her lips curve faintly.
“I spent five years telling myself I was over you.”
Her hand presses more firmly against my chest.
“I wasn’t.”
The words I have feared and needed are coming.
I can feel them.
“What matters to me isn’t how far apart you think our worlds are,” she says. “It’s you.”
She rises onto her toes.
“You’re what I want.”
Her mouth brushes mine.
“I don’t blame you for the anger you carry toward my father. I won’t pretend it’s simple.”
Another soft kiss.
“But I won’t let you use grief, duty, or my family as an excuse to keep deciding what’s best for me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She holds my gaze.
“Then answer my question.”
No more explanations.
No more hiding behind Bran, Francis, or my father’s ghost.
Simone asked me for the truth.
She deserves to hear it.
“Yes.”
Her lips part.
“Yes, what?”
I cup her face between my hands.
“Yes, I’m in love with you.”
The words leave quietly.
They still change everything.
Simone’s eyes fill.
I brush my thumb beneath one before the tear can fall.
“I love you.”
Saying it again is easier.
“I think some part of me has loved you for years.”
Her fingers tighten in my shirt.
“I hated it at first.”
“That’s romantic.”
“I’m not finished.”
A shaky laugh escapes her.
“I hated it because loving you meant wanting something for myself.”
My forehead rests against hers.
“And I didn’t know how to do that.”
“You’re doing it now.”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s enough.”
“No.”
I lift her face.
“It isn’t.”
My voice strengthens.
“I don’t want to return home and pretend this island changed nothing.”
Her eyes search mine.
“I don’t know what Francis will say. I know exactly what Bran will say, and most of it will involve creative threats.”
Simone smiles through the tears.
“He’ll recover.”
“I don’t care whether he does.”
That surprises both of us.
But it’s true.
“I’m done letting everyone else decide what I’m allowed to want.”
Her expression softens into something so open it hurts.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
There is no hesitation.
“I want you when we leave this island. I want you when your father finds out. I want you when Bran tries to break my face.”
A tear slips down her cheek.
“I want you when there’s no danger forcing us together.”
I kiss the wet trail away.
“I choose you.”
Simone releases a trembling breath.
Then she says the words I have spent years believing could never belong to me.
“I am so in love with you.”
Something inside my chest breaks.
Not painfully.
Like a locked door finally giving way.
I kiss her.
Hard.
Desperate.
She meets me with equal force, arms wrapping around my neck as I pull her against me.
I kiss her the way I should have kissed her on her eighteenth birthday.
Without fear.
Without pretending.
Like I’m hopelessly in love with her.
Because I am.
I taste her as though I can reclaim every year I spent denying myself.
Her tongue moves against mine. Her fingers slide into my damp hair, and she shivers when my hand traces the length of her spine.
I hold her face and kiss her deeper.
She presses against me as though she has finally found something solid.
Maybe I have too.
For years, I believed my father’s death left a void nothing could fill.
Simone doesn’t fill it.
She isn’t a replacement for what I lost.
She is something entirely new.
A life I choose instead of a duty I inherit.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her lips are swollen.
Her eyes shine.
“I love you,” I tell her again.
A smile breaks across her face.
“That’s three times.”
“I’m making up for the delay.”
“You have a lot of catching up to do.”
“I know.”
Her hands slide beneath my shirt and flatten against my skin.
“Better get started.”
I kiss her again.
This time, I don’t kiss her to avoid the conversation.
I kiss her because we finally had it.
Because the answer is yes.
It has always been yes.