Something snapped cleanly inside of me. The bridge of my nose burned, and I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling over. He had done all of this—for me, and for his mom.
If there was an emotion running deeper than love, it was exactly what I felt right then. He had planned all of this, all along.
forty
VANESSA
It was latewhen the ride-share dropped me off at home. The meeting had ended hours ago, but I’d had so much to think about that I had spent the night wandering aimlessly around the city, letting the cool air breathe life back into me. It was one of those nights where the journey felt like a total blur—one blink and I was already standing in my parents’ driveway.
I was halfway down the narrow concrete path to the front porch when I noticed a figure sitting there quietly. He stood the exact second he saw me.
“Hi,” Elliott said, wiping his palms on his jeans and then fidgeting, as if he suddenly couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. His hair was a complete mess, looking like he’d been aggressively dragging his fingers through it the entire time he’d been waiting.
“Hey. How long have you been sitting out here?” My voice felt clumsy, my limbs entirely useless. I didn’t know where to put anything—my hands, my eyes, or my heart.
I had told this man I loved him, and somehow even that confession didn’t feel like enough anymore. There wasn't a word big enough in the English language for what he had actually done for me. No language had invented a term yet to capture the terrifying level of devotion I felt for him in return.
“A while,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I didn’t know if you’d actually show up tonight. Your mom let me wait out here, though. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course she did.”Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.
“I know you asked me to stay away, and I swear I respect that,” he continued, taking a step forward. “I just… I knew Emma met with you today, and I wanted you to hear the rest of it directly from me. I didn't mean to ambush you. God, I wanted to tell you a million times, Vanessa, but I kept waiting. I wanted to wait until you actually trusted me again.”
Did I trust him? Aside from my dad and my brothers, he was the only man on earth I truly trusted. Even after the nightmare at the hospital, I trusted him—sometimes entirely against my better judgment.
He stepped off the porch, intentionally keeping a respectful distance between us. “Every single person I’ve ever loved gets taken away from me eventually. You terrify me, Ness. Youalways have. Because with you, it’s completely different. I know you’re not the kind of girl who wants a cheap bouquet of flowers when a guy screws up. You want the guy who shows up and doesn’t screw up to begin with. I can be that guy for you. I want to be that for you."
He took a breath, his eyes searching mine. "If you don’t want that—if I’ve completely ruined my chances—I’ll accept it. Just… please don’t pass up this business opportunity because of me. I can be a completely silent partner. If that’s what it takes you’d never even have to speak to me again.”
He shifted back another step, shoving his hands deep into his front pockets as his shoulders went completely tense. He started that slow, almost reluctant walk toward the sleek car parked at the curb—the one I hadn’t even noticed when the ride-share dropped me off.
“Please, just think about it,” he called back softly.
My hands literally ached to reach out for him, to physically stop him from leaving. My lips tingled with the desperate urge to yell across the yard and ask him to stay. But I remained completely rooted to the stone path, entirely silent, watching as he climbed into his car and drove away. Only when his taillights finally disappeared around the corner did I allow myself to breathe again.
When I pushed the front door open and stepped inside, I was instantly hit with a dense wall of fragrance so overwhelming it felt like stepping directly into a flower shop. Roses. Lilies. Daisies. Gladiolus. Tulips. Every single flat surface in sight was buried under vibrant blooms—bouquets overflowing from the kitchen counters, the side tables, and even lining the hardwood floor. I didn’t even want to calculate how many local shops he must have cleaned out to pull this off.
On the entryway table, right where I always tossed my keys, sat a final, simple bouquet with a small white card tucked neatlyinto the green leaves. There was no signature at the bottom. But I knew, down to my absolute marrow, exactly who had left it.
In his unmistakable, jagged handwriting, the card read:
You asked me to stay away, but I can’t.
forty-one
VANESSA
That wasn’tthe last time I came home to find him sitting on my doorstep. He showed up every single night that week, and the entire week after that. I guessed since I had never explicitly asked him to leave, he just kept coming back—and though I hadn’t admitted it to him yet, that was entirely fine by me. I knew—deep down, I knew—that if I ever told him to go, he would. No questions asked.
Some nights, it was incredibly hard not to just throw myself at him, especially when he stood the exact second he caught sight of me, physically bracing himself for whatever harsh words I might say.
The day after the flowers arrived, he’d shot up from the porch steps like usual, and I had asked him if he would help me with something. He said yes before I even finished explaining the request—he hadn't cared what I actually needed, he just wanted to help. Together, we had delivered a vase of flowers to every single neighbor on the block. It was a massive mistake on my part. Now, every woman within a one-mile radius was probably half in love with him, entirely ready to take my place if I didn’t hurry up and forgive him. The truth was, I already had. How could I not?
On the last night though, he didn’t stand. He just watched me walk up from the edge of the yard, his hair deliciously ruffled the exact way I liked it. I had been buried alive working with Emma—the early stages of launching a business were brutal, and ours was proving to be no exception. Elliott had strictly kept his promise to stay out of my professional space, but I had a strong feeling Emma had been feeding him daily updates. The corporate contracts were finally getting finalized. Elliott had already officially stepped away from Ever After Bridal, and Emma said the formal announcement would go public in a few days. Morgan and Elliott’s uncle Gregory was set to take over as full CEO and owner. The bitter truth was that Gregory was always more about the bottom-dollar profit than the artistic vision, and that wasn't what their mother had ever envisioned.Catherine Jameswould finally be truly hers, and theirs—carrying on Catherine’s original dream.
I dropped my heavy bags on the ground, and he finally rose to his feet. He was wearing a tight gray thermal shirt that hugged his torso like a second skin. I walked right up into his space,wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, and pressed my forehead right into the warm crook of his shoulder. He exhaled a long, heavy sigh into my hair and folded his arms completely around me, crushing me against him. He was almost a foot taller than me, but whenever I was in his arms—rare as that had been over the last ten years—it always felt like our bodies perfectly fit. Like I belonged right there.
I didn’t know exactly how long we stayed frozen like that, only that any human closeness didn’t feel close enough. When I finally tried to ease back, I barely moved an inch. His stubble scraped softly against my cheek as I dragged my face along his. Before I could even open my eyes to meet his gaze, our lips connected, and my eyelids fluttered shut. I tilted my head back to give him better access, and good Lord, he took it—pulling me tight against his frame, shifting our weight until he had lifted me to perch on the porch banister with him standing directly between my thighs. We kissed like reckless, desperate teenagers, and in a way, we still were. He was already hard against me, and I was aching for him. It was beautiful, scorching hot, and embarrassingly needy all at once.
