Page 37 of A Billionaire's Second Shot

“You will,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging in my chest. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she nods, a faint, almost imperceptible motion. “I need time.”

“Take all the time you need,” I reply softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but the way she looks at me—like she’s letting me in just a little—gives me hope. And for now, that’s enough.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tania

The city lights blur together as I stare out the window of the penthouse, my thoughts swirling like the storm clouds gathering in my chest. The conversation with Levi replays in my mind on an endless loop—his voice trembling, his words raw and honest. He opened up to me in a way I never thought he could, laying bare the secrets that had haunted him for years.

And now I don’t know what to do with it.

I press my hand to the cool glass, my reflection staring back at me, as conflicted as I feel. Part of me wants to believe him—to trust that he’s changed, that the man who hurt me before isn’t the same one standing before me now. But another part of me, the part that’s spent years building walls to protect myself, screams at me to keep him at arm’s length.

It would be so easy to walk away. To cut my losses and leave before he has the chance to hurt me again.

But it would be just as easy to stay.

My thoughts drift backto the early days of our relationship, when everything felt simpler. When we were just two people in love, untouched by the weight of ambition or the pressure of expectations.

I remember the way he used to look at me, like I was the only person in the world who mattered. The way he’d sneak up behind me while I was working, wrapping his arms around me and murmuring something ridiculous just to make me laugh. The way his presence always felt like home, even when the world outside felt like it was spinning too fast.

But then I remember the nights I spent waiting for him to show up, only to be met with silence. The arguments, the frustration, the realization that his work would always come first. The ache of loving someone who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—choose me over everything else.

I close my eyes, the weight of those memories pressing down on me like a stone.

I findmyself wandering to the kitchen, hoping that a cup of tea might quiet the storm in my mind. The soft clink of the spoon against the mug feels grounding, a small comfort in the chaos. But as I stir the tea, my thoughts drift back to Levi’s words.

I let you go not because I didn’t love you, but because I did.

I don’t know if I believe him. Or maybe I don’t want to, because believing him means letting go of the narrative I’ve clung to all these years—the one where he’s the villain and I’m the victim. It’s easier that way, simpler.

But life with Levi has never been simple.

“Tania?”

His voice startles me, and I turn to see him standing in the doorway. He looks hesitant, almost unsure, and it tugs at something deep inside me. This is a side of Levi I don’t seeoften—the vulnerable, unguarded version of him that makes me wonder if there’s still something worth fighting for.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, his voice soft. “I just... wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” I reply quickly, turning back to my tea. It’s a lie, and we both know it.

He steps closer, his footsteps quiet against the tiled floor. “You don’t have to be fine, Tania. Not with me.”

The tenderness in his voice makes my chest ache, and I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. “This is a lot, Levi,” I say, my voice trembling. “I don’t know how to feel. One minute I think I’ve moved on, and the next...”

“The next you don’t know if you ever really did,” he finishes for me.

I glance at him, startled by his words, but he’s already looking at me, his green eyes filled with understanding.

“I get it,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to have all the answers tonight. I just want you to know that I’m here, for as long as it takes.”

After he leaves,I retreat to the couch, curling up with my tea and a blanket, though neither does much to ease the chill in my chest. His words linger, their sincerity undeniable. But sincerity isn’t enough—not when the scars he left still ache, even after all this time.

I love him. I know that much. I never stopped. But loving Levi Nichols has always been both the easiest and the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

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