Page 95 of One Midnight Kiss

37

FOX

Iwaded through the party, cursing under my breath as I shoved through the crowd. I had just gotten off the flight to Paris—an hour ago. Barely any time to breathe, let alone process what the hell I was going to say to her. My connection out of JFK had been delayed for hours. Damn Mother Nature. Damn the holiday travel chaos. Damn it all. It felt like I’d been clawing through an avalanche to get here. But the delay had given me something I desperately needed: time. Time to process, time to simmer, and time to finally know what I wanted.

And that was her.

I adjusted my mask and pulled at the tie around my neck. I had about two seconds to change from the time the shuttle dropped me off at the hotel until I had to get into the car I booked to take me to the party.

I scanned the masked faces, searching for Natalia. I didn’t see her, but I wasn’t going to give up hope. I ignored the many waiters with their trays of champagne. I didn’t have the time to waste trying to soothe the nerves crawling up my spine. It was nearly midnight, and if I knew Natalia at all, she’d be where I expected. Where we’d both hoped we’d be.

I pushed past the partygoers in their elaborate masks and gowns. The room buzzed with champagne-fueled laughter, the countdown already beginning in excited whispers. I had the black glove Natalia had left behind in my hand. She was my own personal Cinderella, and I meant to return her glove. I already knew it would fit, but it was the symbolism. I wanted her to see I had kept it all this time.

The staircase felt steeper than I remembered. My legs burned from the rush, from the flight, from the nerves boiling up in me. People walking down the stairs sneered at me as I pushed them in my rush to get upstairs.

The upstairs was empty. All the revelers were downstairs, ready to toast the new year together. My heart pounded in my chest. I prayed she was going to be waiting for me. She just had to be there.

And there she was.

Standing on the balcony, right where I’d hoped she’d be. The same spot I promised I would be waiting when she ran off the first time.

I felt a sigh of relief and joy. A kind of joy I had never felt before.

She turned slowly, like she was about to give up. Like she’d been waiting for someone who wasn’t going to show. My heart clenched at the sight, at the small defeat in her posture.

I stepped onto the balcony. She stared at me as I crossed the expanse to get to her.

“Natalia,” I said, pulling off my mask. I didn’t need it anymore.

She hesitated, her fingers rising to her own mask. She pulled it away, revealing her face, and in that moment, I knew it was her. It had always been her. The woman from Paris. The woman I fell for back home. The woman who held every piece of my heart.

She was one and the same.

I crossed the space between us in two strides and pulled her into my arms. Her body melted against mine. I felt the tremble in her as she exhaled, like she’d been holding her breath for a whole year.

“I’m sorry,” she rushed out, her voice breaking, the words tumbling over each other in her haste. “I—I don’t even know where to start. I was so confused. I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought the man I met here last year was the love of my life, and then you—you came into my life, and it was like⁠—”

“Shh,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. Her tears dampened my cheek. It hit me that this was the first time I had ever seen her cry. Natalia Dawkins, the steely marketing director who held her own in every boardroom, was crying in my arms.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes wide and glassy. “I spun the memory of that night into something it wasn’t. I kept holding on to it like it was a fairy tale, and then you came along, and it was like everything I thought I knew—everything I thought I felt—was wrong. I didn’t know how to reconcile the two.”

I cupped her face, wiping her tears away with my thumbs. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t have to explain. I’ve been doing the same thing. For the whole year, I’ve been holding on to the memory of that night, and then I met you. I didn’t want to believe it at first. I didn’t want to admit that I’d fallen for you. But I did. I fell so hard, Natalia. I was terrified to let go of the woman I met in Paris. I felt torn, but I realized you were the one I wanted.”

She swallowed hard, her lip trembling. “I was scared. I thought if I let myself believe it, it would shatter everything.”

“But it didn’t,” I whispered, pulling her closer. “Nothing shattered, Natalia. It just fell into place, like the last piece of a puzzle.”

Her eyes searched mine, looking for the assurance she so desperately needed. The fireworks began then, a symphony of lights bursting in the air as the clock struck midnight, ushering in the new year. We watched them light up the sky, their reflections dancing in her eyes.

I kissed her, slow and deep, pouring everything I felt into that kiss. The relief, the fear, the overwhelming love. When I pulled back, I pressed my forehead to hers, my breath ragged. “I was going to choose you, Natalia. Always you. Even if the woman from Paris had turned out to be someone else, it would’ve been you. I know that now.”

She let out a shaky laugh, a sound so raw and real it made my chest ache. “You’re sure?”

I held her tighter. “I thought about this for a week straight. It’s all I needed. I must have known from the beginning—whether the beginning was here, in Paris, or in that conference room in Seattle. I love you, Natalia. I love you.”

She closed her eyes, her hands clenching the fabric of my shirt like she was afraid to let go. “Say it again.”

I smiled against her lips. “I love you.”