Chapter 4
4
CONSTANCE
Constance leaned to whisper to her daughter Paige who was eating an eggroll and shoveling in sweet and sour chicken like it was going out of style.
“He’s nice… please be kind to Keith in return.”
“Mom, he’s a dork.”
“He’s trying to be nice to you.”
“I don’t play ponies…”
“Play with your sister and say, ‘thank you.’”
“He lied…”
“About what?”
“He said that there will be a princess castle here tomorrow afternoon after looking at his phone. He said it was ordered… you don’t order stuff on a phone – do you?”
“Some people do,” Constance admitted, stunned and looking over her shoulder at the tall man who was wrestling with the packaging for the child’s toy. “And if he bought that for you – that was really sweet and unnecessary of him. You should definitely say ‘thank you’.”
“I will – but then, can he go away?”
“No. I want to talk to him.”
“Can I go play in my room?”
“Yes, ma’am. I think that would be a good idea for both of you,” Constance admitted in a hushed whisper as she nodded to Paige before plucking a noodle from Kayla’s nose. “Eat baby…”
“Ugh, got it!” Keith grunted in the distance, holding up the yellowish pony almost like a trophy. “Whoever packages these things like this should be keelhauled and horsewhipped within an inch of – uh – they should be hugged often .”
And Constance laughed at his obvious discomfort, trying to change his statement into something more child-appropriate. He really was attempting to find a way to ‘fit’ or appease her in order to build a friendship or bond between them. She knew he was doing it for her, doing it to get closer, and she wasn’t a fool… nor was she a nun.
The man was gorgeous – and while she wasn’t even considering dabbling her toe into the dating pool yet, she also wasn’t na?ve. Not many men wanted to take on dating a widow because they might be uncomfortable at her memories of Robert, plus blended families were hard sometimes. She wasn’t ready to be a stepmother to some other guy’s child, never wanted to choose between her kids or his kids, and there were a massive ton of other obstacles that came with dating someone.
Honestly, she never even thought about dating because she felt like one of those ‘magic slates’ where you marked with a stylus, yanked up the paper to make it disappear, but there were still marks, scars, and imprints there. She felt used. Adrift. Released back into the wild long before she was ready… because Robert had died.
Maybe that was part of the reason she’d mentioned it so quickly to Keith, to run him off or draw that line in the sand because she found him attractive, and it scared her. As he walked toward her with the pony in one hand and the trash in the other, she saw his easy smile and swallowed.
He was sexy in a quiet confident manner, comfortable in his own sense of self, and could be anywhere right now, which made it even more appealing that he was here.
“How’s the food?” he said simply, handing over the pony to Paige but looking at her. His golden-brown eyes held hers, flicking slightly, like he was trying to read her like a book.
“The kids are almost done,” she said simply and hesitated. “I snuck a bite in the kitchen, though, and it’s delicious.”
“Great. This place used to be really good before they changed chefs. I stopped going there for a while and started again recently. Places with drive-thrus are my favorite, you know?”
“Oh, I get it,” she smiled, nodding. “McDonald’s queen, right here. Forgot to thaw out some ground beef – Happy Meals for dinner. It’s not exactly healthy, but in some weird way, I justify it as ‘self-care’ for my mental well-being.”
“Exactly,” he chuckled, smiling as he met her eyes. “Do you mind if I go wash my hands?”
“Not at all,” she shrugged, pointing. “The bathroom is over there.”
Hesitating, Constance grabbed a wet rag and looked around her apartment with candid eyes. It was dated, old, and in desperate need of updating. The walls were yellowed from a previous tenant, and you could smell the smoke during the summer heat. The carpet had been replaced when she moved in but with the cheapest stuff on the market. She remembered how it would ball up, and now it was starting to get worn patches from use near the front door and down the hallway to the two bedrooms. The light fixture was a brass chandelier that hung low on a swag chain, plugged in nearby, and the cabinets had the same brass pulls on them. Keith had to think this was a dump because she sure did in that moment, and she drew in a shaky breath. This was just two new friends talking, and she was making a big deal out of nothing.
“Are you okay?” Keith asked quietly, touching her elbow as he returned to join her at the table.
“Yeah, I’m good. Kids, if you are done…”
“Yup. I wanna keep my food down,” Paige tossed in Keith’s direction as the man sighed and shook his head. Her daughter was gone in a heartbeat – with her new toy and Kayla not far behind her.
“That girl…”
“I’m so sorry…”
“Is phenomenally smart,” Keith finished, smiling at her openly. “I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s bright, quick, clever, and should be taking debate or something because she’s on top of her game.”
“You aren’t upset that she’s been so rude to you?”
“Heck no. I’m in her territory and a threat. I get it. If someone skates into my zone, I’m gonna check them, you know?”
“Check them?”
“I play hockey for a living. I’m on the Coyotes and…” he paused, looking at her. Heck, she’d look too, because her face was sagging with utter shock as it clicked in her head. She had seen him on the news, in the sports segments, but never put it together in her mind. “I’m that guy.”
“I’ve seen you on the news…” she whispered, marveling in shock as he flinched.
“I bet.”
“Oh my gosh… you’re famous.”
“Infamous,” he corrected glumly.
“And you’re here? Oh my gosh,” she uttered as a wave of shame and disbelief washed over her. “You are here, in my dump, and I’m wearing a T-shirt like you’re a nobody…”
“Constance…”
“I’ve gotta change. I should have worn makeup. Please tell me there isn’t some news crew following you or…”
“Heck, I hope not…” Keith uttered under his breath, rubbing his neck. “Look, if things are about to get really weird – then I’m gonna bolt. I’m sorry, but I need normal and down-to-earth in my life. Clingy isn’t cool, fake is even worse, and I cannot stand liars or manipulative people – just please – be yourself.”
“I’m nobody,” she whispered, confused, as he sat down in a rickety wooden chair that had seen better days – and pointed at her seat, to which she immediately sank down. “I’m… I don’t understand. Why… why are you here? Why did you call me?”
“Because you are normal and look at me without an agenda,” he admitted openly, picking up his fork. “I’m a little jaded and wary about things and people, and I like that you are open. Heck, I like that Paige is painfully candid because it’s real. I’ve seen a lot , dealt with a lot , and I could use a whole LOT less in my life.”
“I’m confused,” she admitted, looking at him again as he took a bite of an eggroll, chewing thoughtfully and avoiding her eyes.
“Don’t be,” he said simply, taking another bite. “If you could have anything in the world for your kids, what would you do? What would you ask for?”
“Anything?” she hesitated, growing even more confused. “I’d want them to be happy, to feel confident in who they are, and to know that they are loved.”
“No, I meant monetarily.”
“Oh… oh,” she whispered, shame flooding her face. “Is it because of my place? Because I don’t live somewhere nice or fancy like you must, because there is more to life than money and…”
“Hang on,” he interrupted, smiling and held up his hands in surrender. “Hold back the attack for a moment, Mama Bear. I was asking about college funds, traveling the world, making memories with the kids, and freedom to do whatever with them. I was not attacking your home, how you’ve raised them, or trying to make you feel bad about yourself. I think you’ve done an incredible job with them already, and it’s just two people having a conversation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize for protecting your children,” he said openly in a firm voice that caused her to meet his eyes in surprise. “Never apologize to anyone about that… and you never have to apologize to me.”
They both sat in heavy silence, the air thick with unsaid words. The muffled sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the next room—pure, untainted joy. Paige and Kayla were playing, their excited voices rising and falling, oblivious to the weight pressing down on their mother’s chest.
Constance swallowed hard, staring at the table, the chipped edge catching her eye as her fingers idly traced it. She wished she could freeze this moment, bottle up their happiness, and keep it safe, untouched by the harsh realities of the world she couldn’t seem to shield them from.
Keith was watching her, patient, waiting. His voice, gentle but insistent, cut through the quiet.
“Tell me,” he said softly. “And it’s just a question, Mama Bear. What do you want for them? What do you want for yourself?”
Constance inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she fought against the knot tightening in her throat. She had spent so long pushing those thoughts away, locking them behind doors she never dared to open. But here he was, asking—really asking—something no one had ever cared to.
“I want…” she started, then hesitated, biting her lip so hard she tasted copper.
Keith didn’t look away. He didn’t rush her or fill the space with meaningless words. He simply waited, his quiet presence making it impossible to hide.
The pressure built inside her chest, swelling until it became unbearable. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to speak before she lost the courage.
“I want Paige to have new clothes for the first day of school,” she whispered, the words tasting like shame. “Not secondhand outfits from Goodwill or garage sales—something new, something she chose for herself that makes her feel proud instead of… less .” She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I would put Kayla in a better daycare, in a better neighborhood, somewhere she could play outside without me worrying about stray dogs or broken playground equipment…”
Her voice broke, and she sucked in a shaky breath.
“Think bigger,” Keith urged hoarsely, leaning in as if he could somehow draw the truth out of her.
Constance let out a bitter laugh, the sound wet with unshed tears. “Bigger?” She wiped her face with trembling fingers. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
But she did know. Because the moment she started, it was like a dam breaking, years of frustration, grief, and longing pouring out faster than she could stop it.
“If I were dreaming bigger, Keith,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, “I wouldn’t have to put them in daycare at all. I’d be home with them. I’d see every milestone, every scraped knee, every proud moment instead of hearing about it secondhand from a stranger who doesn’t love them the way I do.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I’d send them to the best private schools money could buy. They’d never have to know what it’s like to eat Hamburger Helper five nights in a row because it’s all that fits the budget.”
Her fingers curled into fists on the table. “I wouldn’t have to juggle everything alone. I wouldn’t have to miss school plays or ‘Muffins for Mom’ because I couldn’t get a substitute for my classroom. I wouldn’t have to constantly apologize—to them, to my job, to myself—for not being enough.”
She let out a shaky exhale, dropping her head into her hands. “If I could have anything, I’d teach them at home. I’d give them every opportunity, every advantage that was stolen from them the day my husband died. I would give them the life they deserve, the home they should have had. But I can’t.” Her voice broke, thick with anguish. “Because life sucks, Keith. It just … it sucks.”
The silence that followed felt deafening. She had never spoken those words aloud before, had never let anyone see the depth of her pain, her fear, her failure.
And then, just as she braced herself for the weight of her own hopelessness to crush her, Keith spoke.
“What if I said I could give you all of that?”
Her breath hitched, her tear-filled eyes snapping up to meet his.
His eyes held fear, wariness, and… hope. There were secrets hidden in his face, almost like he was bracing himself to say what was on his mind and didn’t know where to begin. If this had been a test, she had obviously passed it because he was offering to grant her a wish, like a genie with a lamp, but there had to be a condition.
“What’s the catch?” she asked cooly, looking at him with a careful expression because right now she felt emotionally raw, ravaged from sharing her deepest secrets with him only to have him lob it right back into her court once more. “I have to sleep with you or something?”
“No,” he said quietly, his face immovable. “Maybe I should give you some backstory of what is going on – and why I’m asking.”
“Yeah, why don’t you do that, because right now I’m about two heartbeats away from asking you to leave if you think I’m going to just spread my legs for a few bucks and…”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t ,” he interrupted, glaring at her as his eyes darted to the side carefully. “Do not let the children hear you say something like that .”
“They’re my kids.”
“Then be the role model I know you are – and listen with the same patience you show Kayla and Paige. Give me one minute of that same kindness and understanding I saw at the food pantry, and let me explain, please ,” he uttered, his voice pained.
She nodded tightly – and he sighed heavily, almost like the weight of the world was perilously close to breaking him. She knew that feeling, lived it, and hated to see that someone else was going through the motions as well. Apparently, even the famous had issues and problems.
“Have you ever wanted something so badly in your life that you could taste it?” he said hoarsely, and there was such a raw bitterness in those words, a man so close to being broken, that she felt tears sting her eyes once more as she nodded, unable to speak.
“I messed up,” he whispered openly. “I messed up so badly long ago, and so many other things went wrong with it – that it’s changed me as a person. I’m not married. I have nothing. I have no one because I’m scared to let anyone close enough to hurt me…”
“Why are you telling me this?” she managed to get out as she held his gaze, seeing the silent plea in those expressive eyes.
“Because I think I’ve finally hit the last straw – and I’m scared,” he breathed, sucking in a rush of air like a suffocating man getting a chance. “I know it, I see it, and I’m looking for a life raft before I sink beneath the waves.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m getting fired on Friday,” he began, his voice breaking. “I know it because all my old skeletons are getting regurgitated in the media, and I’m tarnishing their stellar reputation.”
“That’s not a reason to fire someone.”
“We lost an endorsement deal today…”
“Oh.”
“And another one yesterday.”
“Ohhhh.”
“Fired,” he nodded, looking broken, shattered, and embarrassed. “My agent got an offer from another hockey team…”
“Take it,” she interrupted.
“But there is a condition,” he nodded and met her eyes. “I want to take it, but the condition is more than I ever anticipated. It’s a five-year contract for more money than I know what to do with in Quebec…”
“You’d… move?”
“Yes. They would pay all expenses, I would pick a home to move into up there, everything would be handled on my arrival, and I’d have endorsements, money rolling in like crazy, and they know all my secrets…”
“That sounds amazing, so what is the catch?”
“I have to be married.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’… that was about my reaction too,” he admitted, not bothering to hide his dismay. “I have to provide a copy of my marriage license and keep my reputation clean. They want their hockey players to be a part of a larger family like some wild and crazy ‘Stick-Mafia’ on ice… except instead of killing people like the mob, we’d be sinking pucks and trying for the Stanley Cup.”
“I see… I think,” she whispered, stunned. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, I’m getting fired on Friday, so I’m hoping to get married this week and accept the other job.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of pressure.”
“No kidding.”
Keith pushed his plate away slightly, half his food untouched, and she did the same, her appetite gone. There would be no dating this man because he was going to marry some woman and move away. Wow. Talk about having the carpet yanked out from under her feet once more.
“What do you think?” he asked quietly, watching her.
“I think that’s an awful mess to be dealing with.”
“Agreed,” he said openly, waiting. “So, are you in?”
“Me?” she asked in disbelief. “You want to marry me to clinch this deal?”
“Yeah, I was hoping that I was clear about it. I’ve never proposed, heck, I’ve never even asked out another woman since I was eighteen until I called you.”
“Seriously?”
“Deep scars,” he said simply, pressing his lips together. “I would give you everything. You could pick the house, never work again, new car, new furniture, all of it. You could do anything you wanted with the children, for the children… I just need you to act like my happy-little-bride at a few functions for the team.”
Constance sat there, completely shocked to her core. She never imagined marrying again, much less dating, but hearing it tossed so casually out there like a business arrangement was a little surprising – but she needed more information before she could just say ‘no’… and it was perilously close to the tip of her tongue.
“How much was your contract for?” she asked hoarsely, feeling dirty even talking about money as his lips pressed together creating a white line of strain around them.
“A million each year – and it’s more with the endorsement money.”
“And what happened that is causing your current team to lose their endorsements, for you to lose your job?” she asked and saw his face practically close up within a split second as his eyes shuttered, hiding his thoughts. “I think I have a right to know if it’s something that has followed you and will possibly affect me or my children.”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
“Then my answer is no.”
He sat there stonily, one hand clenched in a fist as his jaw ticked. He didn’t say a word, wouldn’t look at her, and silence seemed to be deafening as he finally met her gaze.
“Haven't you ever made a mistake?”
“Oh, sure. All the time.”
“It was a mistake.”
“What was?” she pressed and sat back in her chair, looking at him in disbelief. “You are asking me to marry a stranger, to take your word on all these lofty promises, to drag my children with you to Canada, and yet you won’t tell me what you have in your past that is causing such a smear on your reputation? How’s that fair?”
"Life isn’t fair, remember?”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. It slaps me in the face daily.”
Constance studied him carefully, her heart tightening in her chest as he hesitated. The usual confidence in his posture was gone, replaced by something heavier—something that looked an awful lot like regret. She knew this wasn’t easy for him. Whatever he was about to share was something he’d buried deep, a wound that had never truly healed.
Her breath caught as he pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and then handed it to her.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.
“The contract,” he said simply.
She frowned, tilting her head. “Okaaaay?” she drew the word out, bracing herself. There was something unspoken in his expression, a tension that sent unease crawling up her spine. “You tell me, and I’ll consider your proposal. You keep it a secret and I have to find out from the media, a news crew, or someone else—then I’m out.”
The weight of her words hung between them like a storm cloud ready to break. She needed honesty from him. If there was something in his past that could blindside her, she refused to be kept in the dark.
Keith exhaled sharply and leaned back in the rickety chair, his fingers rubbing at his face as if trying to scrub away whatever thoughts plagued him. The haunted look in his eyes made her stomach twist. It was bad.
“I was eighteen… and she said she was nineteen,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with shame. “It was my first time, and I was so excited that I didn’t even consider the ramifications of her lying to me.”
Constance felt a chill rush down her spine. Her breath hitched. A sickening feeling settled in her gut.
“Oh no…” she breathed, the horror settling in.
“She was seventeen—and a runaway,” he muttered, his tone raw, his hands gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. “Her father couldn’t get me for rape because we hadn’t had sex yet, thankfully, but they still tried to pin me to the wall. She’d been with someone else, not me , and it showed up in the kit… but I still had to wait for the results. In jail. With a bunch of hardened criminals. An eighteen-year-old kid who didn’t know any better. It was a mistake.”
Constance felt like the floor had been ripped out from under her.
“Oh, Keith,” she whispered, her voice thick with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” he scoffed bitterly, letting out a hollow, humorless laugh. “ I’m sorry. When I was released because they had no evidence, they still charged me with public lewdness, inappropriate behavior with a minor, and a bunch of other things. So I hired a lawyer. Me . An eighteen-year-old kid scrambling to scrape together every cent I had from playing college hockey, just praying I wouldn’t get kicked off the team. And you know what happened?”
He lifted his gaze to hers then, and the depth of bitterness in his expression nearly took her breath away.
“My lawyer settled and I was convicted of them,” he spat the words like they tasted foul in his mouth. His jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “I wanted a clean slate. I wanted my name cleared. But while I was sitting in a classroom, taking a freakin’ algebra exam, my attorney was in a courtroom, settling my case without me.” He made finger quotes, his voice dripping with venom. “‘ I wasn’t needed there. ’ That’s what he told me.”
Constance swallowed hard, her heart pounding.
“He promised me it would all be expunged, stricken from my record. That no one would ever know what happened.” Keith let out a shaky breath, shaking his head. “And he didn’t do it.”
Her throat felt tight. “Keith…”
“I found out when I got signed to my first NHL team,” he continued, his voice like gravel. “Not only did the jerk fail to expunge my record, but he was disbarred for ethics violations.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh no…”
“And then he left the country,” Keith finished, his mouth pressing into a tight line.
She reached for his hand instinctively, but he pulled away, rubbing at his face again, his movements rigid with frustration.
“So when the paparazzi came sniffing around, when some nitwit looking for a payday dug up my past and blasted it everywhere. Every sports network, every news channel, every darn gossip site.” He let out a slow, pained exhale. “I wasn’t cut right away, but they made it clear I wasn’t sticking around. I finished the season, and then they traded me.”
His voice was hollow now, almost detached.
“I tried to sue for the convictions to be removed from my record, but they couldn’t find the girl to get her side, and my attorney had died from a drug overdose in El Salvador. It was there, stuck in my record for anyone to find, and I was traded again three years later to the Coyotes.” He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes dull, filled with something that looked too much like defeat. “Until now.”
Constance’s heart ached for him. He had carried this burden for so long, reliving it every time someone decided to drag it back into the light. And yet, he was still here. Still fighting.
She wanted to say something—anything—to take away the pain in his eyes. But there were no words big enough to undo the past. So, instead, she did the only thing she could.
She touched his hand, staying by his side.
“You never touched her?”
“No,” he whispered bitterly, his eyes shining with pain and unshed tears as he bared his soul. “I never slept with her. I never dated anyone after that because I was scared, and it’s ruined my life. It’s ruining it again, and I’m getting older. Not a lot of teams are willing to sign someone in their thirties, especially a washed-up guy with a reputation, Constance. This is my last shot.”
They just sat there, holding hands, silently.
“If I look you up right now…,” she whispered, hesitating warily, pointing at his phone, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “You never touched her?”
“Never,” his throat bobbing as he swallowed, looking completely gutted. “I can bring it up for you if you want to read the court case. I think I have a copy in my safe at the apartment. I kept it in case it went back to trial again someday and…”
She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
“I believe you,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. The words trembled on her lips, her breath unsteady, shaking with the magnitude of what she was saying. Believing him meant trusting him. Trusting that he was telling the truth. Trusting that he wouldn’t break her. “Can I think about this?”
“Yeah.” His answer came quick, quiet, but firm. He wasn’t pressuring her, wasn’t demanding anything. He was giving her space, even when she could see how much it pained him.
She dragged in another breath, her chest tight. “This is a lot to process—and with my kids…” The thought of them twisted like a knife in her gut. It wasn’t just a marriage on the line here. It was their lives, too. She had to protect them, always. They were her world.
“I know,” he said, and something about the way he spoke made her believe him. His voice carried the weight of experience, of a man who understood what it meant to lose, to be cautious, to tread carefully. He raked a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “Trust me, I do know. Which is why I told you everything.”
Constance’s heart clenched. It was too much—too much honesty, too much vulnerability, too much at once. She could feel the walls she had carefully built around herself trembling, threatening to give way. Her voice came out harder than she intended, a desperate attempt to ground herself. “So help me, if you lied…”
He let out a painful bark of laughter, the sound sharp and bitter like a wound ripped open. His expression twisted as he looked away, his jaw clenching. “No.” His voice was hoarse, thick with something she couldn’t quite place. “I wouldn’t do that because I’ve been on the receiving end of those lies and know only too well how it feels.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond her. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.” He turned his eyes back to her, the intensity in them stealing her breath. “I might be a jerk, enjoy checking another player on the ice a little too much, and I’m not the greatest guy in the world, but the one thing I can promise is that I will never, ever lie to you.”
The sincerity in his words settled deep in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She wanted to believe him. She really did.
“Let me think about it tonight,” she said softly, the words filled with an unspoken plea—for time, for clarity, for the space to make sense of everything she was feeling.
“Of course.” He nodded, his expression unreadable, though she could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. He stood slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before offering her a wry smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Friday still gets here in the same amount of time, you know?” His voice was laced with bitterness, and the forced attempt at humor made her chest ache.
She opened her mouth, but before she could find the right words, he sighed and stepped toward the door. “Why don’t I see myself out now?” He tried to make it sound casual, but the weight of the moment hung heavy between them. “I’ve dropped enough bombshells for the evening to last a decade.”
She forced a small, rueful smile, her feet moving before she could think better of it. Following him to the door felt like an instinct as if some invisible thread pulled her toward him. When he turned back to face her, his eyes held a wariness she had never seen before.
A quiet, desperate kind of fear.
“Please don’t tell anyone what I’ve told you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… embarrassing.”
The vulnerability in his words nearly broke her. He had trusted her with something deeply personal, something he had probably never shared with anyone else. She reached for his arm, just the lightest touch, enough to ground them both. “Your secret is safe with me.”
His shoulders sagged slightly in relief. “Thank you,” he breathed, letting out a long sigh as if the weight of the world had been lifted just a little. He hesitated, lingering in the doorway as if he wasn’t quite ready to leave. Then, quietly, almost hesitantly, he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow night?”
“Yes.” The answer came easily. Maybe too easily. But in that moment, she couldn’t deny him, couldn’t turn away from the trust he had placed in her.
As the door closed behind him, Constance exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her chest as if to steady the erratic beating of her heart. The room felt too quiet, too heavy with everything that had just happened. And despite everything she had told herself, she knew deep down—this man had just changed everything.
She was considering his offer.