Chapter 34
34
Gage
I can’t fucking breathe.
Not when she walks on stage.
Not when she says my name without saying it.
And when she sits at the piano and her fingers touch the keys, everything in me surges.
The ache.
The want.
The relief.
The fucking silence I’ve been choking on for three months.
I haven’t heard her voice in weeks. Haven’t touched her, haven’t looked at her for longer than seconds without someone between us.
And now she’s here.
The first few notes hit low. They’re slow and deliberate. It’s the kind of opening that tells you the song’s not here to entertain you. It’s here to say something.
She plays like she’s not interested in being predictable.
Just when you think you’ve figured out the rhythm, she shifts it. Lands a note a breath earlier than you expect, or holds it a second longer than she should.
It’s not chaos. It’s control.
She’s telling me something with every change in timing.
You don’t get to predict me.
You don’t get to solve me.
You don’t get to own my voice, even if you’d never try.
You just have to feel me. Stay with me. Hear me.
And fuck, I do.
Every note feels like it’s coming from a place I didn’t know she’d let me see again.
It’s not polite.
It’s not careful.
It’s her .
Raw. Complex. Still standing.
It’s not defiance. It’s agency.
She’s saying I’m still mine, even when I’m yours.
And the way she plays—steady but alive, delicate but never small—it’s the sound of someone who knows who she is now.
And that’s the most beautiful fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
The final note lingers, just long enough to wreck me.
It’s final. The breath before the song ends and everything changes.
She doesn’t bow. Doesn’t rush off. Doesn’t look at anyone but me.
And when she stands, my fucking heart stutters.
Because I know.
She’s walking toward me.
With every step she takes, the noise fades, the crowd blurs.
All I can see is her.
Her chin lifted. Her steady hands. Her eyes locked on mine.
And my whole body reacts.
My pulse feels like it’s tearing through my skin.
My jaw tightens, trying to contain every goddamn emotion she’s unleashing in me.
And my fists? Clenched at my sides, just to keep myself from reaching for her.
Because she’s coming to me.
Not broken.
Not unsure.
Not whole.
She’s decided.
And I don’t know what she’s going to say when she gets here, but I already know what my answer is.
Whatever it is, yes .
A thousand fucking times—yes.
She stops in front of me. And for the first time since I let her go, the world doesn’t move. It waits. Held in the space between her inhale and my restraint.
There’s no spotlight, no mic. Everyone might be watching us, but Amelia’s only speaking to me when she says, “I hated every second of not being able to look at you.”
My chest pulls tight.
“I didn’t leave because you hurt me. I left because my body and mind kept reacting like I wasn’t safe. Even when I knew I was. Even when you were right in front of me, doing everything right.”
She pauses. Breathes. Doesn’t look away.
“And I knew I had to work on that. Because if I didn’t, I was going to ruin something I never wanted to lose.”
Her gaze flickers, then holds.
“I thought that was why I left. I honestly did. But here’s the real truth...I was scared of how much it felt like home. You. This. Us.”
I don’t move.
Because if I do, I’ll fall apart.
“I wanted to stay.”
Her voice cracks.
“And that terrified me.”
The room is so fucking quiet I can hear the shift in her breath.
“But I’m not scared anymore.”
I’m going to break. I fucking know it.
“You loved me when I couldn’t love myself. You saw me when I didn’t know how to be seen. You gave me space, and time, and safety, and you asked for nothing I wasn’t ready to give.”
Her throat bobs. Mine does too.
“You never asked me to choose. But I’m choosing now.”
She steps closer.
So close I could touch her. But I don’t.
“I know what the collar really means now. I want it back. Not because I’m yours—” She stops. Corrects herself. “Not just because I’m yours. But because I finally know how to be mine, too. And I want both.”
I don’t breathe. I just feel. And fuck , I feel everything.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Gage. I’m telling you that I’m going to marry you.” She swallows. “If you still want that. If you still want me .”
Fuck me.
The woman I love just walked through fire to come back to me.
And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to give her the world, on whatever terms she fucking wants.
I can’t wait another fucking second.
Three months was too long
Three breaths was too long.
Her face is in my hands before I even register moving.
I don’t kiss her. Not yet.
I just hold her. Just look.
And I think— mine .
Every shattered, rebuilt, fire-forged part of her.
Mine.
My thumbs sweep her cheeks as her hands come to my shirt, and fuck me , I needed that.
“You put my collar back on, Princess, it’s never fucking coming off again.”
Her eyes search mine and a slow smile fills her face. “Is that a yes to marrying me?”
“Fuck,” I growl, and I can’t hold back. I claim her lips, rough, hungry, fucking ruined, and I kiss her like the starved fucking man I am. When I finally let her go, I say, “All I heard in that proposal was being bossed into marrying you.” I bring my mouth to her ear. “So let me take you home and make you beg for a cock you already fucking own.”