Something in my expression must convince Lily, because her stance softens slightly. "She's not at her apartment either. Already checked."
"Then where?" I press, desperation edging into my voice.
Lily hesitates, then sighs. "Try the bench by the lake in Evergreen Park. Where her grandmother used to take her. She goes there to think sometimes."
I'm moving before she finishes speaking, pausing only to say, "Thank you."
"Don't make me regret it," she calls after me. "Don't hurt her more than you already have."
The warning follows me out the door, settles in my chest like a weight. Hurting Sophie was never my intention. But intentions mean nothing against impact—a business lesson I learned early and should have applied here.
As I drive toward the park, my phone buzzes yet again. This time, I glance at the screen. Harold Blackwell. The meeting. The board. The European expansion that started this entire mess.
I answer, putting it on speaker as I navigate the snowy streets. "Harold."
"Christian, where the hell are you? The Munich team has been waiting for forty-five minutes. The London office is threatening to withdraw their proposal entirely if we don't?—"
"Cancel the meeting," I interrupt, the decision crystallizing with sudden clarity. "All of it. The European expansion, the acquisition discussions, the relocation options. Cancel everything."
Silence on the line, so profound I check to ensure the call hasn't dropped.
"Have you lost your mind?" Harold finally sputters. "We've been working on this for over a year. Millions in preparation alone. The projected growth?—"
"I don't care," I cut him off again, turning into the park entrance. "None of it matters if I lose her."
"Lose who?" Harold sounds genuinely baffled. "Christian, what is going on?"
The question gives me pause. What is going on? How do I explain that Sophie Winters—a small-town shopkeeper I've known for weeks—has become more important than business deals I've cultivated for years? That the thought of her walking away creates a hollowness in my chest that no corporate acquisition or Benet expansion could possibly fill?
"I'll explain later," I tell him, spotting a lone figure on a bench by the partially frozen lake. Sophie. "Just cancel everything for now. No decisions today."
I end the call before he can respond, parking quickly and exiting the car. Snow falls steadily, dusting Sophie's hair and shoulders as she sits motionless, staring out at the icy water. She looks small, vulnerable. Beautiful in her solitude. And for the first time in my life, I'm uncertain of my welcome, uncertain of my next move, uncertain of anything except that I need her to understand.
Need her to stay.
Need her, in ways I've never needed anyone or anything before.
I approach slowly, giving her time to see me coming, to flee if she chooses. She doesn't move, though I know she's aware of my presence. Her posture stiffens slightly, the only indication she's registered my arrival.
The diamond ornament weighs heavy in my pocket—her name and "Mine" engraved for eternity, a declaration I still mean with every fiber of my being. But I understand now that possession isn't about claiming or controlling. It's about choosing, about valuing someone enough to adjust your course, your plans, your very life to include them.
I've built an empire by refusing to compromise, by pursuing singular objectives with relentless determination, by prioritizing business success above all else.
Now I'm about to risk it all for the chance to explain myself to a woman who makes Christmas ornaments and sees through every wall I've built around myself.
And remarkably, it doesn't feel like a sacrifice at all.
Because without Sophie, none of it matters anymore.
Snow crunches under my feet as I approach the bench where Sophie sits, her back straight, her gaze fixed on the frozen lake before her. She doesn't turn to acknowledge me, though the slight stiffening of her shoulders tells me she's aware of my presence. The park is relatively empty given the weather—a few dog walkers in the distance, a couple strolling along the far path, no one close enough to hear a conversation but plenty of potential witnesses should this go badly. Not that I care anymore about public perception or maintaining appearances. Those concerns feel trivial compared to the urgent need to make Sophie understand, to correct her misinterpretation, to reclaim what I was foolish enough to jeopardize through omission.
"Lily told you where to find me," she says flatly, still not looking at me. Not a question, but I answer anyway.
"Yes." I stop beside the bench, snow collecting on my shoulders, my uncovered head. I've left my coat in the car, too focused on finding her to notice the cold. "May I sit?"
"It's a public park," she replies, shifting slightly to create more distance on the bench. A clear message, but not an outright rejection. I take the offered space, maintaining the distance she'sestablished. A concession to her boundaries that feels foreign but necessary.
"The European deal isn't final," I begin, getting straight to the point. "It's one of several expansions being considered. Has been for over a year, long before I met you."
