Page 112 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches me like he’s trying to decide if this is real. If I’m real.

“Ariana.” His voice is low, rough.

I step forward, my pulse stuttering. “Before you say anything, I need you to know…I remember everything about that night in Vegas. Every moment. Not just the ones I tried to dismiss or rationalize, but the ones that mattered.”

His jaw flexes. “Such as?”

“Like how you looked at me when I stole half your pancakes. How you held me like I was something precious. How, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t carrying everything alone.” I swallow, fighting the lump in my throat. “How it felt to just… be with you.”

Something in his face shifts—just enough that I see the man beneath the armor. The man I’ve spent weeks convincing myself I didn’t need.

“And the wedding?” His voice is quieter now, but no less intense.

I force myself to meet his gaze. “It was real.” My voice breaks on the last word. “Not just legally or technically. It was real because you were real. Because for the first time, I wasn’tsomeone’s crisis manager. I wasn’t bracing for disaster. I was just me. And I was happy.”

Connor exhales sharply, tension coiling through him. “Then why did you lie? Push me away?”

“Because I didn’t know how to need you without losing myself.” The words spill out, unfiltered, raw. “I’ve spent my entire life making sure no one ever had to catch me if I fell. Because the people who were supposed to… couldn’t. So I didn’t fall. I couldn’t.”

His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for me but isn’t sure if he should.

“I get it,” he murmurs. “I spent years making sure no one got close enough to hurt me. Control meant safety. Distance meant I wouldn’t have to watch someone leave again.”

My heart cracks open at the admission. “I don’t want to live like that anymore.” My voice wobbles, but I push forward. “That’s why I did this. Because I know you don’t believe in fate or chaos or letting things spiral out of control, but I do. And I am choosing this. Choosing you.” I take a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be strong by myself anymore. I don’t want to do life alone. I want to need you, Connor. I want to fight for you.” My throat tightens. “I just need to know if you’ll fight for me too.”

A sharp breath leaves him, like the words have struck deep. His hands clench at his sides. His jaw tightens. He’s standing there, so still.

Then, in a single step, he’s in front of me, his hands framing my face, his touch achingly gentle.

“You think I don’t believe in fate?” His voice is rough, unsteady. “Ariana, I fought like hell against it. Against you.” His thumb traces the curve of my cheek, like he still can’t believe I’m real. “But even when you weren’t in my arms, you were everywhere. In every empty room, in every goddamn moment I wished I could share with someone. I told myself it didn’tmatter, that it was better this way. But you ruined that. You ruined me.”

A breath shudders out of him. “And the worst part? I wanted you to. I wanted you to come crashing into my life, to make me question everything, to make me need you in ways that scared the hell out of me. And when you left—” His voice catches, and he exhales hard. “I didn’t just miss you. I lost you. And I am so goddamn tired of losing the people I love.”

I let out a quiet, broken sound, my fingers curling into his shirt. “Connor…”

His breath is ragged, his forehead pressed to mine.

“I wanted to hate you for what you did,” he admits, voice raw. “I wanted to shut it all out—bury myself in work, pretend you were just a mistake. But you weren’t. You never were.” He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes stormy and open in a way I’ve never seen before. “I don’t know how to do this, Ariana. I don’t know how to give up control, how to trust that this won’t fall apart. But I know that losing you hurt more than any risk I’ve ever taken.”

A sharp sob escapes me, my heart splitting wide open. “I don’t want you to give up control, Connor. I just want you to let me in.” I lift a trembling hand, resting it against his jaw. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I hurt you. But I was scared. Scared of what it meant to need you, to love you, because I’ve spent my whole life making sure I never relied on anyone. And then you came along, and suddenly, I didn’t want to do it alone anymore.”

He swallows hard, his grip tightening around me. “Then don’t.”

I blink up at him, my breath catching.

“Don’t do it alone,” he says again, more fiercely this time. “I don’t want to be someone you have to manage. I don’t want to be another responsibility you carry like a weight on your shoulders.I want to be beside you, Ariana. I want to fight with you, not against you.”

I laugh softly, choked with tears. “Even if that means compromising on pancake opinions?”

His lips turn twitchy again, just slightly, before his expression turns serious again. “Even then.”

A shaky breath leaves me, but I don’t pull away. “I can’t promise I won’t screw this up again.”

“Me either.” He brushes his thumb along my cheek, his touch reverent. “But I can promise that if you run, I’ll come after you. Every single time.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb.

“I love you, Ariana.” His voice is hoarse. “And I don’t want to spend another second pretending I don’t.”

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