Chapter 18
POV: Alexander?
There are days where I convince myself I’ve built something.
A company. A name. A life.
People walk into this office and look at me like I know what I’m doing. Like I’m in control. Like I’m the one making things happen.
And maybe I am.
Campaigns running. Deadlines met. Numbers growing. My team moving like a machine I designed with my own hands.
I should feel proud.
Instead, I feel… hollow.
Because none of it—none of it—means a damn thing if she’s not in it.
My phone lights up on the desk.
For a second—just a second—my heart jumps like an idiot.
But it’s not her.
It hasn’t been her.
Not really.
One month.
One whole month since I watched her walk away again, this time by her own choice.
She texted me that she got home.
That was it.
I’ve sent good morning.
Good night.
Careful, measured words that don’t push, don’t demand.
She reads them.
Sometimes.
She doesn’t answer.
And I tell myself that’s okay.
That she asked for time.
That I owe her that.
That maybe… this is the price of everything I did.
I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand over my face.
Maybe this is it.
Maybe loving her was never supposed to mean having her.
Maybe loving her was just… letting her go. Making sure she had everything—even if that didn’t include me.
At least she knows the truth now.
At least she has the ring.
The ring that was always meant to be hers.
The only thing I ever got right.
A knock pulls me out of it.
“Come in,” I call, my voice sharper than I intend.
Vivian steps in, tablet in hand, always composed, always efficient.
“You have someone asking to see you.”
I frown, already reaching for my schedule. “I don’t.”
“I’m aware,” she says, calm as ever.
A pause.
Something in my chest tightens, out of nowhere.
“Did he give a name?”
Vivian hesitates—just for a fraction of a second—and that’s when something shifts. Something instinctive. Something I don’t let myself believe.
“No,” she says. “But—”
The door opens wider before she finishes.
And then—
Everything stops.
Amber.
She’s standing there like she just walked out of every memory I’ve ever tried to bury.
Dark hair loose around her shoulders, those blue eyes locked on mine like they’ve always known exactly where to find me.
There’s a bag on her shoulder. And he is pulling another…
Like she came here with a purpose.
Like she came here for me.
For a second, I can’t move.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t think.
“Amber…” Her name leaves my mouth like a prayer, like I’m not sure she’s real enough to stay.
Vivian quietly steps out, closing the door behind her, but I barely register it.
All I see is her.
All I feel is her being here.
“I—” I start, but I don’t even know what I’m going to say.
Do I ask why she’s here?
Do I ask if she’s okay?
Do I—
She doesn’t give me time.
She walks straight to me.
No hesitation. No distance.
Her hands come up, cupping my face, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has.
And then she kisses me.
God.
It hits me like a punch.
Like air rushing back into lungs that forgot how to breathe.
My hands find her instantly—one at her waist, pulling her closer, the other at her jaw, holding her like she might slip away if I don’t anchor her to me.
She’s real.
She’s here.
She’s kissing me like she means it.
Like she chose this.
The kiss deepens, turns raw, desperate, months—years—of restraint cracking open all at once.
I lose myself in it.
In her.
In the way she fits like nothing ever changed.
Like everything finally came back to where it was supposed to be.
When we finally break apart, it’s only because breathing becomes necessary.
My forehead drops against hers, my chest rising too fast, my hands still holding her like I don’t trust the world not to take her again.
“Tell me this is real,” I murmur, my voice rough, almost unrecognizable.
Her fingers slide down to my chest, resting over my heart.
And that’s when I see it.
The ring.
On her finger.
My breath catches so hard it almost hurts.
I take her hand without thinking, lifting it between us, my thumb brushing over the diamond like I need to confirm it’s not a hallucination.
“Amber…” I whisper.
She nods.
And then she says it.
“Yes.”
The word lands heavy. Final. Everything.
“I will marry you,” she continues, her voice steady even as her eyes shine. “I will spend my life with you. I will… try. We’ll try. Together.”
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
All I could do was stand there and look at her, trying to understand how the hell the universe had given me another chance with the woman I had spent twelve years loving from a distance.
Then her eyes lifted to mine again, and something in them shifted.
Something deeper.
“You broke my heart twice,” she said.
The words hit like a punch to the chest.
I felt it physically, like my lungs forgot how to work.
“And you took a lot from me,” she continued quietly. “From us.”
My instinct was to apologize again. To stop her. To tell her she didn’t have to do this.
But she shook her head before I could speak.
“But this past month…” she said softly. “I realized something.”
I watched her swallow, watched the small tremble in her fingers.
“The last time I was truly happy… was when I was with you.”
My throat burned.
God.
Her hand found mine then, her fingers sliding between mine like they had done a thousand times before.
“I’m not pretending the past didn’t happen,” she said. “And maybe part of me will always carry those scars.”
Every word felt like something sharp being dragged through my chest.
“But I’m not choosing you because I forgot the pain.”
Her thumb brushed over the ring again.
“I’m choosing you because I know that after everything we’ve been through… we’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”
My vision blurred for a second.
I didn’t deserve this.
I knew I didn’t.
And yet she was standing here.
Choosing me anyway.
“And more than that,” she said softly.
Her eyes held mine.
“I’m choosing myself.”
I frowned slightly, my voice barely working.
“Yourself?” I managed.
“Yes,” she said.
There was no hesitation now.
“Because I deserve to be happy again.”
Something inside my chest broke open completely.
She stepped closer, so close I could feel the warmth of her body, the faint shake of her breath.
“So no,” she said quietly. “I’m not forgiving you because everything was okay.”
Her gaze never left mine.
“I’m giving us a third chance to finally make it right.”
For a moment I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t do anything but look at her like she had just handed me the entire world.
And then she smiled.
Small.
Soft.
The same smile that had ruined me when I was eighteen.
“I love you,” she said.
The words landed somewhere deep inside my chest, somewhere raw and unprotected.
My hand came up to cup her face before I even realized I was moving.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said roughly.
She shook her head immediately.
“That’s not how this works anymore.”
My thumb brushed her cheek, trying to memorize the feel of her again.
“Then let me spend the rest of my life proving you right,” I murmured.
Something inside me breaks.
Not in pain.
In relief.
In disbelief.
In something so overwhelming I don’t even have a name for it.
“You don’t have to say anything else,” I manage, my voice thick. “You already said everything.”
But she shakes her head, stepping closer, like she needs me to understand.
“I love you,” she says. “And I’m done pretending I don’t.”
That’s it.
That’s all it takes.
I pull her into me again and kiss her like I’ve been starving for twelve years.
Because maybe I have.
I don’t remember deciding to move.
One second she’s in my arms, her yes still echoing in my head, her mouth still soft against mine…
And the next, I’m pulling back just enough to look at her.
To really look.
She’s here.
She chose me.
After everything.
“Come with me,” I say, already reaching for her hand, like I need to keep contact or I’ll lose her.
Her fingers tighten around mine instantly.
“Always,” she answers, and fuck—those simple words hit harder than anything else.
I grab my keys, barely sparing a glance at the chaos of my desk, the meetings I’m about to ignore, the entire company I’m supposed to be running.
None of it matters.
Not right now.
Not when she’s here.
As we step out, Vivian looks up, clearly surprised, but she doesn’t say a word. Just gives me a small, knowing smile.
“Cancel everything for the rest of the day,” I tell her, not even slowing down.
“Of course,” she replies.
Amber lets out a soft breath beside me, almost like a laugh, and I glance at her.
“You just abandoned your entire company.”
“I’d burn it down if I had to,” I say, completely serious.
Her eyes soften.
“Good to know.”
The elevator ride is torture.
Not because it’s long—because it’s not.
Because she’s right there.
Close enough that I can feel the heat of her body, the faint brush of her arm against mine every time the elevator shifts.
Close enough that I remember everything.
The way she feels. The way she sounds. The way she comes undone under me.
Twelve years.
Twelve fucking years and my body still knows hers like a map.
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
“Do you want to stop somewhere?” I ask, because I should. Because that’s the normal thing to do. “Dinner, or—”
“Xander.”
Her voice cuts through me.
Soft.
Steady.
Certain.
I turn to her.
And the look in her eyes—
God.
It’s not hesitation.
It’s not doubt.
It’s hunger.
“Please,” she says, stepping closer, her fingers curling into my shirt. “Take me to your bed.”