He nodded, suddenly feeling more exposed than if he’d stripped naked on center ice. “I could tell how much that vasemeant to you. And I felt like shit that I helped break it. But then I thought... maybe something beautiful could come from the shattered pieces.”
Harriet leaned in closer. “Are those words on there?”
“Yeah, I had the artist etch them in the glass.Kind. Brave. Sexy. Passionate. Driven. Loving.I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you,” Gale said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “Every piece of you, Harriet—the parts you’re proud of and the parts you try to hide—they’re all beautiful to me. They all make you who you are, and I love every single one of them.”
He watched as Harriet’s fingers traced over the art, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. When she finally looked up at him, the emotion in her gaze nearly knocked him on his ass.
“Wow,” she repeated, her voice thick. “I don’t know what else to say.”
He took her hands in his, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. “You inspire me, Harriet. You push me to be better, not because you demand it, but because being with you makes me want to be worthy of your time.”
Harriet shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. “Of course you’re worthy. You always have been.”
He pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. “Maybe. But you make me want to keep proving it, every single day.”
As he held her in his arms, swaying to nothing but the beat of their hearts, Gale thought about how far they’d come. They’d both had their doubts, their fears. But standing here now, he knew with absolute certainty that E.M.M.A. had been right all along.
Love really did have a way of pushing you to be your best self.
With Harriet by his side, Gale felt invincible. She made him want to keep growing, keep improving his game, keep showing up as the partner she deserved. And in turn, he hoped he did thesame for her—inspired her to embrace all the amazing qualities she sometimes tried to hide.
They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the repaired vase a testament to their journey. Finally, Harriet pulled back, her eyes shining with a mixture of love and mischief that made Gale’s heart race.
“You know,” she said, voice dripping dark honey, “I think this calls for a proper celebration.”
She slipped the scarf from around her neck, letting it slide between her fingers. The moonlight caught the silk, but Gale was caught by the predatory gleam in her eyes, the one that made his blood rush south as she led him up to his bed.
“Do you trust me?” The question was a dare wrapped in velvet.
His answer came rough with want: “Completely.” He reached for her but she danced back, clicking her tongue.
“Not yet. Tonight you’re mine to play with.”
She took her time undressing him. The silk whispered against his wrists as she bound them to the headboard, each knot a promise of sweet torment. Everything he ever wanted. She worked with deliberate slowness, letting her fingers brush his pulse points, making him shiver. But he’d never felt so free.
“Look at you,” she breathed, raking her nails lightly down his chest. “All that power, all that strength, tied up just for me.”
Every touch that followed was pure torture—her mouth blazing trails of fire down his body, her hands mapping every inch of him like she was discovering new territory. The loss of control set every nerve ending on fire, made each brush of skin feel like lightning. He strained against his bonds, desperate to touch her, to claim her, while she took her sweet time destroying his sanity inch by agonizing inch.
“Please,” he rasped as she nipped at his throat, his voice wrecked. “Harriet, fuck, please...”
She smiled against his thundering pulse. “Please what?”
“Need to touch you,” he managed, arching as her hands traced lower. “Need...”
“Not yet,” she purred, pressing a biting kiss to his collarbone. “I’m not done making you beg.”
And she didn’t stop until he was trembling beneath her, until every wall he’d built came crashing down, until there was nothing left but raw need and her name torn from his throat like a prayer to a merciless goddess.
The next morning, they woke cuddling beneath tangled sheets. Harriet rested her head on his chest, as he stroked her back. He found himself thinking about his father again. About the legacy of abandonment and fear he’d left behind. But this time, instead of feeling that familiar dread, he felt something else. Determination. Resolve. Here in the aftermath of such perfect trust and surrender, his fears about his father seemed laughable. Because this woman could tie him up and break him apart and still make him feel stronger than he’d ever been.
“What’s going on in that head?” Harriet murmured, biting gently at his chest.
“Thinking about how you make me forget every fear I’ve ever had,” he answered honestly. “How you destroy every wall I try to keep up.”
She propped herself up, eyes wide and fierce. “Good. Because you’re mine now. And I protect what’s mine.”
He pulled her down for a kiss that tasted like ownership. Like claiming. Like belonging. They’d fought through hell to get here— through their own demons, through others’ judgment, through every voice that said they were too much for each other. But in moments like this, with her wild heartbeat against his and the ghost of silk still around his wrists, he knew every battle had been worth it.
