Chapter 50
MYA
The ma?tre d’ pulls out the empty chair at the table.
“For you, madame.”
I hesitate for half a beat, eyes traveling from Worth to Bri, but I sit. My brain is still trying to catch up.
No one says anything.
“So!” Brianna chirps. “We’re all here!”
Worth drags a hand down his face. “Brianna.”
“What?” she says, all fake-innocent.
He looks at me as I try to get my eyes to stop bugging out of my skull.
“Mya… what are you doing here?”
It comes out surprised, not accusing.
I blink. “You invited me.”
“I—” Worth stops. “No, I didn’t.”
My brows knit. “You sent me a gift with a note.” I narrow my eyes now. “You said, ‘Dinner tomorrow, 19 h, Loulou, Jardin des Tuileries. Table is under Miller.’”
Worth stares at me.
Okay… Clearly he did not send me a gift.
We both look at Bri and she’s already cracking. Her mouth starts to twitch, and then she just bursts out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Worth says slowly. “What did you do?”
“Okay, okay,” Brianna says, waving her hands because she can’t breathe. “Don’t be mad.”
I’m smiling now too. “So, the gift wasn’t actually from you,” I say to her father, eyes dancing. “It was from you?” I point at Bri.
She nods, grinning. “Uncle Adrian helped me.”
“Of course,” Worth mutters. “I’m going to punch him for this. Is that who you kept texting earlier?
“Yup!”
“Who’s Adrian?” I ask, confused, but my question gets ignored.
“I told him I wanted to do something special because it was, you know…” Bri darts her eyes between us meaningfully. “And he said he knew people, so he helped me plan everything.”
“Wait,” Worth cuts in. “What gift?”
I’m still trying to process, but I manage to say, “The wolf and moon drawing. With the quote.”
Worth blinks. “I definitely didn’t send that.”
“I know. Apparently your daughter did.”
Bri bobs her head. “You guys needed to talk and you weren’t talking and Dad kept not calling you and you kept not calling him, so I said, ‘We’re going to Paris anyway, let’s just make them meet,’ and here we are.”
I stare at her.
Worth does too. Then I laugh, head tipping back—and I could kiss this kid, because I haven’t genuinely laughed in months.
He shakes his head, fighting a smile. “You’re not supposed to manipulate your father.”
“You guys weren’t doing it yourselves,” Bri says, shrugging. “So I helped.”
I look at Worth over the candle, eyes soft now. “For what it’s worth… It was a really good gift.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah? I wish I could take credit.” He holds my gaze, and for a second the noise of the restaurant fades.
Bri takes a sip of her water like she didn’t just mastermind an international reunion. “Sooo, now that everybody’s here… I have to pee,” she announces, sliding off her chair, because subtlety is not in her vocabulary. She gives us both a pointed look. “Don’t fight.”
“We won’t,” Worth says.
She rolls her eyes, and disappears toward the bathrooms.
Suddenly it’s just us.
I smooth my napkin over my lap. “Hi,” I say, because what else do you say to your ex-husband-slash-still-somehow-love in the middle of a Paris restaurant on your fake anniversary?
Worth smiles, a little shy, which is so unlike him that my stomach flips.
“Hi.” He glances in the direction Bri went. “Sorry about my conniving daughter.”
“Don’t be. She’s persistent. Wonder where she got that from.”
“Definitely not me,” he deadpans.
I bite back another laugh. Then I figure I might as well tell him before Bri does. “I should probably admit something, though.”
His brows lift. “Yeah?”
“Bri and I never really stopped talking.” I watch his face carefully. “We’ve been texting this entire time. I hope you’re not mad.”
His expression softens immediately. “Mya. No. Of course I’m not mad.” He leans in, forearms on the table, candlelight catching in his eyes. “Brianna loves you. She was gutted when you left. We both were. I was just trying to give you space.”
That stings, even though I knew. “I still feel guilty about that, and about leaving Bri without a goodbye... But she said she understood. I don’t know how a fourteen-year-old can understand heartbreak better than some adults.”
“She’s had practice,” Worth says quietly.
My throat tightens. I look around us. “It’s kind of wild we’re back here.”
“Yeah.”
“Whole different circumstances.”
“Way different,” he agrees.
A year ago, we were high on adrenaline. A year ago, I wasn’t in love yet. Not like this. A year ago, there was just a man and a woman playing house and getting way too good at it.
“I don’t regret it, though,” he says.
My eyes flick back to him. “No?”
He shakes his head, gaze steady on mine. “Those six months we were married were some of the best months of my life.”
I blink, thrown. “Have you gone soft, Mr. Miller?”
He chuckles, low. “Maybe.”
The smile fades and he straightens, as if remembering something. “Actually, I promised myself that when I saw you in person again, I’d tell you. I’m not leaving it unsaid this time.”
I swallow hard.
“Worth—”
“No, let me.” He holds up a hand. “I’m not telling you this to make you stay, or to make you feel guilty, or to mess with the freedom you carved out for yourself. I’m telling you because I’d rather you walk away knowing it than not being aware of how I feel.” He takes a deep breath.
“I love you, Mya.”
My heart kicks in my chest.
“I fell in love with you somewhere in the midst of our pretending. You walked into my house and made it a home so fast I didn’t even realize it had been missing something. You made me enjoy life again.”
My eyes burn. I grip the edge of my napkin so I don’t reach for him.
“You made me a better dad.” Worth’s eyes are shining now too. “You made me show up softer. You made me listen to Bri more. I didn’t realize I’d been doing things on autopilot until you came in and started loving her like she was yours.”
I blink, and tears slide down my cheeks.
“And you made me a better man,” he adds, voice a little rough. “Not because you asked me to change. Because I wanted to be the kind of man you didn’t want to run from.”
God.
Worth takes a steadying breath. “Since you’ve been gone, the house hasn’t felt like home. Bri and I are good, we always are. But it felt fuller with you. Complete. That’s what you were. You were the missing piece to our puzzle.”
I press my lips together to keep a sound in.
My heart is hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
This is everything I wanted him to say months ago.
Everything I told myself I’d never get. Everything I was scared to hear, because once it’s spoken, you can’t pretend anymore that it was just sex and an arrangement.
“I’m not asking you for anything right now,” he says softly, leaning in a little more. “I just didn’t want to miss the chance to tell you. Because last time, I kept waiting for the perfect moment and we got blown up before I could.”
I wipe under one eye, my laugh a little watery. “You’re really not helping me keep my walls up here.”
“Good,” Worth says, eyes warm. “They were never that high with me, anyway.”
Inside me, there’s a war. I’m still scared—because once I say it, it’s real. Once I say it, I’ll have to let myself be happy, and happiness is what I’m terrified of losing.
But looking at Worth now, I realize what my mom said was right.
I didn’t run because it wasn’t real.
I ran because it was.
And I love Worth so much it hurts.
Worth
I didn’t realize how tight I’d been holding everything in until I said the words.
The second they were out, something in my chest loosened as if I’d been walking around with a fist around my ribcage.
And now I’m watching Mya like a hawk; I have no idea how she’s going to take it.
She looks stunned. Wide-eyed, lashes wet, breathing a little too fast. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her fingers are trembling on the napkin, there are tears on her cheeks, and I can’t tell if I just gave her the thing she was waiting for or if I’ve just scared her.
Shit.
Maybe I said too much. Maybe I should’ve eased her in.
Mya clears her throat, voice shaky. “Thank you for telling me this.”
My heart drops.
Not the words you want to hear after a love declaration.
I manage a nod anyway, swallowing the sting. “Yeah. Of course.”
Mya sees the hurt, because she’s always seen right through me.
“No, Worth. I mean, thank you. Because I needed to hear everything you said. I love you too.” Her eyes are fierce through the tears.
“I’ve loved you since our first kiss. When I said I wasn’t going to sleep in your bed and then I kept doing it.
When I saw how you are with Bri. When you fought for her in court.
When you bought me that stupid record.” She laughs, wiping under her eye.
“I fell for you and then I panicked. Because the only big love I’ve ever experienced got taken away.
I thought if I ended it, at least it was me ending it. ”
I have to grip the table to keep from just hauling her across it to taste her mouth.
“I needed to know I could walk away,” Mya whispers. “That I wasn’t staying because I needed a savior. I needed to know that I could stand on my own and then choose you.”
My throat burns.
“And I did. I proved I could do it, and I still missed you every night. I still texted your daughter. I still listened to the record. I still counted the days.” She shakes her head, a small, desperate sound leaving her. “I can’t stand being without you anymore, Worth. I don’t want to.”
I push my chair back and lean across the table. “Come here.” I cup her face in both hands and kiss her.
It’s not a careful kiss. It’s months of missing her, weeks of restraint, a whole year of pretending we were temporary. She melts into it instantly, hands coming up to my wrists, mouth opening under mine like she was right there with me the whole time.
She tastes like wine and cinnamon and Mya. I groan against her, deepening it, and she makes that soft sound in her throat that always undoes me.
God, I missed this woman.
I could stay like that forever, bent over a restaurant table like a teenager, but then a small shape appears near us.
Brianna is back, quietly sliding into her chair. Without saying a damn word, she reaches into her little purse, pulls out the navy velvet box, and sets it on the table between us.
Then she winks at me.
I pull back from Mya with a breathless laugh, because of course my kid would do this.
Mya looks between us, eyes wide. “What is that?”
I pick up the box, thumb brushing the velvet.
“This might be crazy,” I say, turning back to her, heart pounding like I just ran a marathon, “but I don’t want to spend another moment apart from you.”
Mya’s eyes instantly fill again.
I stand. Chairs around us scrape as people notice what’s happening. I don’t care. I step around the table, take her hand and, like I should’ve done a year ago, I get down on one knee.
“Mya Dessen-Jones.” I look up at her, every single thing I feel probably written all over my face. “Will you marry me? For real this time. No contracts. No timelines. No deals. Just us.”
She gasps, hand flying to her mouth.
Behind me, I hear Bri whisper, “Say yes, say yes, say yes.”
The restaurant quiets. Phones come out. Someone gasps in French.
Mya laughs through her tears, nodding so hard her curls bounce. “Yes,” she chokes out. “Yes, Worth. Of course, yes.”
The place erupts in applause, cheers, and someone actually whistles. Brianna is taking a thousand pictures on her phone, practically vibrating with happiness.
I slide the ring onto Mya’s finger, then stand and pull her in, kissing her like the world paused just for us.
When we break, foreheads touching, breaths mingling, I whisper, “It’s not just for now anymore.”
Her eyes, full of happy tears, shine up at me as she shakes her head.
“It’s just until forever.”