"Then I got to know you."

Her chin lifted, barely, but her expression stayed maddeningly controlled. No one spoke, maybe they were afraid to after how I’d silenced Jen.

"You changed me," I said, stepping closer, feeling the unbearable distance shrink by the smallest fraction. She had to see. Had to know. But I didn’t force it, didn’t demand. I just let the words sit between us, offering her what she deserved.

"My intentions were a mess. But I fell in love with you, Claire."

The words were heavy and real—a confession I should have made long ago. I braced for the fallout, for the wreckage, for her to break me beyond repair. To tell me to get the hell out of her house and never return, like she already had.

But she didn’t.

Claire’s fingers uncurled at her sides, her stance shifting, just slightly—but enough for me to see it. Hopeful. Was she? She had to be. Michael saw it. He knew. He seemed to silently be willing her to accept my words, while willing me to keep going.

And her mother? Her mother was frozen, torn—eyes flickering between restrained fury and something else, something hesitant, something I didn’t dare name.

But Jen—Jen was anything but hesitant.

She laughed, the sound like venom, like she was personally betrayed, like this was hers to grieve. “Love her? After all that, you expect us to believe you love her?”

This time, Michael and their mother yelled at her to shut up.

I didn’t look away.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Because she was everything.

She had to see the truth—that I wanted her. That I chose her. And this time, I wouldn’t let fear or hesitation steal her away.

When she moved toward me, my pulse kicked up, bracing for her to lead me to the door. But she didn’t. Instead, she woundher arms around me, and when her lips met mine, it was slow, deep—a sweet promise of everything we’d been denying for too long.

I held her close, inhaling her scent, feeling like I could finally breathe after far too long.

And Jen? Jen stormed out, furious, completely forgotten in the wake of something far greater than her.

Her touch was everywhere, and it extended far beyond business and home life. It was personal. Deeply, profoundly personal.

We were partners. Equals. Lovers. Something I never let myself imagine, but there it was. Real. Mine.

The meetings where she took the lead, keeping everyone informed while lighting up the room with her sweet nature and kind voice.

The mornings we woke up tangled in each other’s arms.

The quiet dinners, where we spoke, memories, plans, future dreams… we talked about everything. I’d never felt so free to just be myself, the person I could only be around her.

This was more than a relationship. It was everything. And as much as I had changed her world, she had changed mine even more. I could feel it in every breath. In every part of who I was.

She saw things I didn't. She saw me. I watched her do it, day after day, shouldering some of the things I felt I needed careful control of. And I loved it. I loved the way she changed the rules, made me rethink what it meant to be in charge. It wasn’t about control anymore. It was about trust, respect, love. She made me see that, feel that, live that.

Claire had turned my universe upside down, and I had never been happier. We were building something that wasn’t just strong—it was unbreakable. We were doing it together. I never wanted it to end.

The world saw it, felt it. Saw the change, the shift. Knew this was real, that Claire and I were truly in love and living our happily ever after. And I wanted them to see. I wanted them to know. I didn’t care about pretending, didn’t care about appearances.

I saw the way they looked at us, the awe in their faces, the whisper of disbelief edged with fascination. And I didn’t flinch. I let it in, then pushed it out because their opinions meant nothing while I was living life and loving Claire.

Loving Claire, that was a thought I let settle in my bones. A life I never thought I’d have, yet here it was, breathtakingly perfect and real.