22. Orion
— ? —
Orion
The apartment felt different when we got back.
The adrenaline from the gala had faded, leaving something heavier in its wake. Demi’s words were still in the truck with us. And Gianna’s silence had said more than any answer could have.
She wasn’t sure. After everything, after all these months, she still wasn’t sure.
I couldn’t blame her. I’d spent two years teaching her not to trust me. A few months of showing up couldn’t undo that overnight. But God, it hurt to know she was still waiting for me to disappoint her.
Words weren’t going to fix this.
Alex was with Maya, who’d agreed to stay late in case the gala ran long, so the apartment was quiet. Gianna kicked off her heels by the door and sank onto the couch, the midnight dress pooling around her like spilled ink.
She looked like something from a painting. Something I wanted to stare at for the rest of my life. And she was sitting there wondering if I was going to get bored with her.
The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. I sat on the other end, close but not touching. Giving her space.
“I need to tell you something,” I said.
She tensed. “What kind of thing?”
“I’ve been working with the lawyers.”
Her whole body went rigid. I saw her brace for impact. Divorce papers, maybe, or some legal maneuver she hadn’t anticipated.
“Breathe,” I said quickly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I promise.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking I’m about to do something that hurts you. I’m not. I’m trying to do the opposite.”
“My shares,” I said. “The properties. Everything that’s mine, not the company’s.” I took a breath. “Mom signed off already. We’ve been setting it up for weeks.”
“Setting what up?”
“Enough is in your name that if I ever make you feel unheard again, you can walk and never need anything from me. Ever.”
She stared at me. “Orion, I didn’t ask for your money. That’s the last thing you should be giving me.”
“You didn’t. That’s not what this is.” I turned to face her fully, needing her to understand. “I overruled you for two years and then acted surprised when you stopped talking.”
My voice cracked. I let it.
“So here’s the rest. The house. Staffing. How we raise Alex. Anything about our life, you have final say. Not to buy forgiveness. Because your judgment is better than mine.” I held her gaze. “It always has been.”
She was quiet for a long moment. I watched her process it, turn it over, look for the catch.
“And if I make a decision you disagree with?” she asked finally.
“Then I tell you I disagree and I back you anyway.”
“What if I decide to paint the bedroom lime green?”
I blinked at the unexpected question. “Then… we live with lime green. It’s a good color.”
“What if I decide we’re getting a cat?”
“Then I learn to love cats. They’re cute and cuddly.”
“You’re allergic to cats.”
“Then I’ll wear a protective suit every day and we’ll have a cat.”
Amusement flickered across her face. “You hate cats.”
“I hate disappointing you more.”
She reached out and touched my face. Her fingers were cool against my cheek, her touch tentative, like she was testing whether it was allowed.
I turned my head slightly and pressed a kiss to her palm because I couldn’t help it. Her breath caught and she didn’t pull away.
“I’m not ready to come home yet,” she said. “But I think I’m ready to try being us again.”
I caught her hand. Held it there against my cheek. Let myself feel the warmth of her palm, the weight of this moment.
“One more thing,” I said. “My lawyers heard from Monica Reyes’s office. The divorce petition.”
Her hand went still.
“It’s still open. Still sitting there, waiting for one of us to do something about it.” I swallowed hard. “I’m not touching it. I’m not asking what you want to do with it. That one’s yours.”
I let go of her hand first.
She didn’t pull away. Just sat there, watching me with those eyes that had seen me at my worst and were somehow still willing to look.
“Yours,” I repeated. “Whatever you decide.”
She was quiet for so long I thought she might not respond at all. Then she leaned forward, so slowly I barely registered the movement, and pressed her lips to my cheek. A whisper of contact that burned through me like wildfire.
“Thank you,” she said against my skin. “For finally understanding what I needed.”
Then she stood and walked to the bedroom, the midnight dress trailing behind her like a promise I hadn’t quite earned yet.