101. Chapter 101
one hundred one
“ S o,” Monroe said, pouring a glass of wine for them both as she watched Chloé settle onto the couch. “Are you going to tell me why you really hopped on a plane so early this morning?”
Chloé smiled up at her, eyes dancing. “You think I had an ulterior motive?”
“Maybe,” Monroe replied, crossing the room and handing her the glass before sinking into the seat beside her. Close. Intimate. Warm. Wanted.
Chloé sighed softly, set her wine down on the side table, and reached for Monroe’s hand. Her fingers curled around it, sure and steady.
“Last night, when you fell asleep,” Chloé began, “I didn’t hang up.”
“Oh…bet that was entertaining.” Monroe chuckled, voice gentle.
“More than you’ll ever know,” Chloé murmured, biting her lip as she held Monroe’s gaze. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Chloé nodded, her voice soft but certain.
“I know. And that’s what hit me. I don’t want to be watching you fall asleep through a screen.
I don’t want us slipping into frustration and silence because life pulls us in different directions.
Or missing our first Christmas, New Year…
Easter. And if it ever came down to choosing…
” Her thumb brushed gently over Monroe’s. “I’d choose us. Every time.”
“That’s—”
Chloé held up a hand. “I’m not finished. Please.” She drew in a breath. “I’ve been working hard—tying up loose ends, training Cécile to manage things. I want to be here. With you.”
Monroe’s brow lifted. “Move to England?”
“If that’s what it takes, yes.” Chloé’s voice didn’t waver. “I can work remotely, like you did. I’ll fly back when I need to for meetings, but I’ll come home to us .”
“I…” Monroe smiled slowly, setting her glass down blindly on the coaster. “You’d really do that?”
“You did it for me,” Chloé said simply. “I missed you. I don’t want to keep missing you.”
“And your place?”
Chloé gave a small shrug. “The perfect summer house, non ?”
Monroe laughed, a soft sound of both disbelief and delight. “So you’re really moving here?”
“What I realised, is that where we live doesn’t matter. Here, France, we will work around it, but without you beside me, it doesn’t matter where I am, it’s no longer home. You are my home now.”
With a slow, deliberate shift, Monroe leant in and slid one leg over Chloé’s lap, settling onto her with ease. Her hands found the hem of her own T-shirt, lifting it inch by inch as her gaze locked with Chloé’s.
“I think…” she murmured, her voice low, teasing, “I’ve missed you too.”
Chloé’s hands came to rest on Monroe’s hips, her smile curving with anticipation. “Really? And now you’re going to show me just how much?”
“I might,” Monroe whispered, letting the shirt fall to the floor, “but only if you’re very, very good.”
Chloé chuckled, tugging her closer. “Oh, I’m excellent.”
Monroe leant in lower, her breath warm against Chloé’s skin, lips barely grazing hers. “Prove it.”
Chloé smiled against her mouth, hands tightening at Monroe’s waist as she closed the distance fully, their lips finally meeting—slow, lingering, full of promise.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was the kind of kiss that said, “ Home .” That said, “ I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Monroe sighed into it, melting into Chloé’s touch, the weight of days and distance lifting with every second their mouths moved together.
When they broke apart, just barely, Chloé rested her forehead against Monroe’s. “Still want me to prove it?”
Monroe’s grin was soft and wicked. “Oh, I’m going to need a lot more convincing.”