18
DEAN
I couldn’t take my eyes off her, but neither could Dr. Hofstetter and his few colleagues he invited. Emilia looked stunning in her long, burgundy dress, and the shine of the silk made her skin glow. She was beautiful, and not just in the way that made heads turn. She had that quiet, effortless kind of beauty that crept up on you and left you speechless.
She laughed at something the doctor said, and it hit me in the chest harder than I expected. I never truly heard her laugh like that. Not even in our stolen moments. Back then, I didn’t appreciate her. Didn’t appreciate anything about her other than her body. And even that, I took advantage of.
God, I’d been such a bastard. I’d had her within reach and treated her like something optional. Like she was only part of my life when it was convenient. And even though I told myself I was protecting her from me…the truth is, I was protecting myself. From feeling too much. From being vulnerable.
But now, sitting here and seeing her beside me in public, knowing she chose to be here tonight despite everything, I couldn’t hide from it anymore.
I was falling for her.
No. That wasn’t right.
I’d already fallen.
I wasn’t sure when it happened. Maybe it was the first time she challenged me in a meeting. Or when she brought me coffee without asking how I liked it and got it exactly right. Or maybe it was the first time we ever touched in the elevator.
It didn’t matter when it happened. Just that it had. And that she was here now, giving me a second chance I didn’t deserve.
I watched her talk to Dr. Hofstetter, listened to her smooth voice threading between theirs like music, and something tightened in my chest.
I wanted to reach for her hand under the table. I wanted to say it aloud.
I have feelings for you, Emilia. Real ones. The kind that scare the hell out of me.
But not yet. Not here. This moment was hers. I’d already taken so much from her. Tonight, I just wanted her to feel safe. Seen. Wanted.
“I didn’t know Dr. Hofstetter had such a good sense of humor,”
Emilia said as we walked out onto the street where I had parked my car.
I chuckled under my breath. “He usually doesn’t. I think he was just so smitten by you that he opened up like that.”
She laughed, softer now, and glanced at me as we kept walking. “I don’t think that’s why, but I had fun. I didn’t expect to actually enjoy myself,”
she admitted with a small smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“I’m glad you came.”
I meant it. “You were incredible in there. The way you handled their questions...Honestly, I think you impressed everyone more than I ever could’ve, and you didn’t even have to.”
She looked at me, her expression a little unreadable. “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”
“I know,”
I said. “That’s probably why you did.”
We paused at the edge of the sidewalk, right by my car. It had gotten late, and the street was quiet and empty. A car drove by occasionally, and the wind kept lifting the hem of her long dress. Her curly hair moved gently as another breeze rolled in. For a moment, we didn’t speak.
“I didn’t think this would feel so…”
she trailed off.
“Easy?”
I offered.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
I leaned back against the side of my car, my hands in my pockets. “It’s not easy for me,”
I admitted. “I’m doing everything I can not to mess this up.”
Emilia blinked, surprised by my honesty.
I looked at her then, and all the carefully guarded parts of me started slipping. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how I treated you. About what I let myself ignore. You gave me more grace than I deserved. And somehow, you’re here.”
“I’m here because I want to be,”
she said, her voice quiet but sure.
I swallowed, my throat tight. “I don’t want to go back to what we were. I want something real with you, Emilia.”
She didn’t say anything for a second. Then she took a slow step toward me. “What does that mean to you?”
“It means…”
I hesitated, the words forming with more weight than I was used to carrying. “It means I want to wake up thinking about you and go to sleep hoping I did something that made your day better. It means I want to be close to you, and not hide from others. I want to show you daily that I care, and that I want you. And I don’t want to disappear when things get complicated. Not run when I start to feel something.”
Her expression softened. She was close enough now that I could smell her perfume. It was warm and delicate, like vanilla and something floral. “You already feel something,” she said.
“I do.”
I nodded. “I feel a lot.”
She looked up at me, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she dropped her gaze and reached for my hand, pulling it out of the pocket to hold it. Her fingers slid between mine, interlocking them, and when her eyes met mine again, she whispered, “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
I quickly shook my head at her statement. “I won’t hurt you again, Emilia. And if I ever slip, you can call me out on it. Slap me. Punch me. Hell, scream at me in front of everyone. But I’ll prove to you that I have truly and wholeheartedly fallen in love with you.”
My heart was hammering in my chest as I outed those words, and my knees went weak for a split second. I squeezed her hand, then reached up with my other to cup the side of her face. “I promise to be better. To prove to you that I’ve changed because I want to be with you.”
Emilia didn’t pull away. Her eyes searched mine, and whatever fear or doubt had flickered in them just moments ago slowly melted into something deeper. Her breath hitched slightly, and I felt her fingers tighten around mine.
“I believe you,”
she whispered.
The sound of those words hit harder than I was prepared for. Something cracked open in me, something I’d buried under years of coldness and control.
I leaned in.
Slowly. Giving her time to change her mind.
But she didn’t. She tilted her chin up, closed the distance, and when our lips met, it was nothing like I remembered.
It was more. New.
This wasn’t rushed, or secret, or driven by adrenaline and guilt. This was slow. Deep. Her hands slid up to my shoulders as I pulled her closer and turned us around, then I pressed her back gently against the side of the car. The kiss deepened, and she kissed me like she was letting go of every hesitation she’d carried since the moment we fell out months ago.
She moaned into the kiss, pulling me even closer, and I groaned quietly, overwhelmed by the feel of her. My hands moved to her waist, holding her like I was terrified of ever letting go again. She kissed me like she remembered everything. And forgave it anyway.
My heart was a riot in my chest, a pounding, messy rhythm that made it hard to think, to breathe, to do anything but feel her. This was the kind of kiss you could get lost in, and I wanted to. I wanted to lose myself.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, and my hands moved further down, cupping her ass gently. I’ve touched and kissed her before, but this was all different. It was real, and it would last. And, from now on, I would never be the first to break the kiss.
She did after a few minutes, needing to catch her breath. Her eyes were bright, and I knew mine must have been the same.
Emilia searched my face as her hands rested on my chest, and as a small smile tugged at her lips, she said, “I want you to come home with me.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”
It was then that I realized she wasn’t just inviting me into her apartment. She was inviting me into her life. Her heart.
And while it was terrifying, since I never had anything serious with a women, I would do anything to turn this into something that would last forever.
For her.
For my Emilia.
Your choices led Emilia and Dean to find their way back to each other.
If you’d like to explore how things could have gone differently, return to Chapter 7 and try another path.