“I want to tell you something… and ask you something.” he says, stepping closer, stopping by my desk. He takes both of my hands, gently pulling me up from my chair until we’re standing face to face. I glance down at our joined hands, a painful reminder of how good we used to be. “Isabella is in jail. They arrested her, and she won’t be walking through that door anytime soon.”
He squeezes my hands, a gentle but heartfelt gesture. Relief floods through me. For the first time in days, I can breathe again. Isabella can’t hurt me anymore.
“That’s good news. I’m glad to hear it,” I say, though part of me still wants to pull my hands away. He doesn’t let me. His grip tightens. “Andreas, please, I appreciate you coming to tell me this, but…” I can’t finish my sentence.
“Nora, I didn’t just come to tell you that. I’ve been an idiot. I didn’t see it at the time, but I do now. What I did was so incredibly stupid. I should never have left you alone in that hospital bed.” He lets go of my hands and gently cups my face. He searches my eyes and holds my gaze. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I don’t want to lose you, Nora. Can you forgive me? Can you give me another chance? Please…” His final “please” cuts through me like a dagger. Has he ever said that word to anyone?
Before me stands a man filled with genuine regret, and I know it. I should be happy, but anger stirs inside me. I spent days and nights trying to piece my broken heart back together. Without Dennis and Anna, I don’t know if I’d have gotten out of bed at all. And now, here he is, wanting to come back. He always has the power to decide what happens. He lifts me to heights and lets me crash. Now I’m left wondering if he’ll ever really choose me, choose us.
“I forgive you, Andreas. I think I understand why you did it,” I reply softly. I see relief in his eyes.
“Nora, you have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” he says, his tone genuine.
“Andreas,” I interrupt him immediately, “that doesn’t mean I’m giving you another chance.” The smile vanishes from his face. “You left me hanging when things got tough, and you come back when the danger’s gone. I want to forgive you, but I never want to go through something like that again. I want someone who’s always there for me, especially during the hard times. I don’t know if you can be that person.”
I avert my gaze and take a step back. This time, he lets me go, and the warmth of his hands vanishes. My cheeks feel cold without his touch. He looks like he wants to speak, maybe argue his case, but he remains silent. I hope he makes a passionate plea about why he is the kind of man who will always be there for me, who cares for me and will fight for me. But we’re interrupted by the cursed doorbell. I see my 2 p.m. appointment cheerfully walking in. Andreas takes a step back, hesitation in his eyes, but no passionate plea follows. Instead, I get a polite goodbye. Andreas accepts his fate, walking out of my office with his hands running through his hair. I forced him to leave. I’m proud of myself and I hate myself for it at the same time.
* * *
The next few days, I no longer worry about Isabella. But I do think of Andreas every time that doorbell rings. Part of me still hopes he’ll come back with that plea, but another, smaller part is relieved he hasn’t. This morning, the doorbell sounds again. A golden envelope arrives, personally addressed to me by someone from Andreas’s team. There’s an invitation in it for the event he’s organizing in honor of his brother. Given our last conversation, it feels like a total shock he would want me there. I don’t understand and it’s been sitting with me all day, making my stomach twist. I don’t know if I should feel happy or scared—definitely stressed. I’m already dreading what my nights will be like.
The event in memory of Andreas’s brother is happening in three days, and Andreas wants me to come as his plus-one. For a moment, I thought the invitation was a mistake, maybe someone forgot to remove my name from the list. But the enclosed note, personally written by Andreas himself, proves otherwise.
Nora
I’m sorry.
Come with me.
Stay with me.
In good times and bad.
Andreas
He’s not accepting defeat. He is fighting for me.
* * *
It’s Friday night, and in half an hour, Andreas will be at the door, and I don’t know what to do. I’m exhausted after three restless nights and days of worrying and weighing my options. I want Andreas—I want him so badly. My body says yes, my heart says yes, but my mind is waging a fierce battle. Anna won’t give me any advice. She thinks this is something I have to decide on my own. She’s always had an opinion about everything, but now, she refuses to weigh in. The past few days, she’s listened to me endlessly, poured countless glasses of wine, and handed me tissues, but her thoughts on all of this remain a mystery. It shows just how overwhelming this crossroads in my life feels. The past few days, and especially today, I’ve played along with Andreas’s game. I let everything get sorted—waxing, measuring, massages, facials. I let myself be pampered. I followed his instructions and accepted his surprises. Just now, the hairstylist and makeup artist finished my look. I should feel like a princess, but I’m still unsure if this is a fairytale with a happy ending. Did Andreas expect me to stand here, all dolled up, and give him another chance simply because I accepted all his gifts? Should I have refused? Do I even want to? I’m still undecided.
I stand before a rack of ten different dresses, each one calling to me. A bag of lingerie from “our” store hangs beside me. I open it and find a beautiful corset—dark blue, modern, simple. It has visible bones, with sheer strips of fabric running between them. It sparkles in the mirror. I search for matching panties, but instead, I find a note.
I’m not taking any risks.
You’ll get the panties from me later.
Andreas
I’m relieved he didn’t outsource this note. My shapewear has been collecting dust for some time now, but no panties? I suddenly feel incredibly exposed, despite the clothes. Just the thought sends a shiver through my body. Good shivers. Tingly, exciting shivers. The thought of possibilities without panties—now those are definitely naughty, arousing shivers. For the first time since the attack, my body seems to come alive again. Andreas’s commanding words have a direct impact on every part of me south of my belly button. My imagination conjures a soft moan and a deep sigh. Almost instinctively, I peel off my clothes and step into the corset. It fits perfectly. My full breasts look beautiful, without being overly pushed. The thin fabric makes my nipples extra sensitive. The bones shape my figure beautifully without constricting me. The corset moves fluidly with my body. A neat little triangle of dark curls on my Venus mound stares back at me, bare in the absence of a slip and silently asking: What are we going to do? I still don’t know, and the clock is ticking.
The doorbell rings precisely on time. I’m far from ready and start to panic. I was so foolish to keep pushing the decision further away, all the while physically preparing for this night. Now I stand here, half-dressed, trembling in front of the mirror. I hear movement downstairs, followed by heavy footsteps on the stairs. Andreas. He’s still getting in somehow. I grab the first dress I see, using it like a shield. My shoulder protests from the swift movement, but thankfully, I manage to cover up just in time as Andreas bursts into the room.
“Nora,” he says hoarsely, panic in his eyes.
He takes a few hesitant steps towards me, but stops halfway. His hair is neater than usual. He looks incredible in his tuxedo. He’s so tall and broad, filling the entire room with his presence. He smells amazing, a mix of his own masculinity with hints of pine cones and eucalyptus. My body reacts immediately. My nipples harden and press against the fine mesh of the corset. I feel the nerve endings in my clit awaken and say hello. I don’t need much imagination anymore. Just seeing Andreas, hearing his voice, is enough to spark every part of me.
“Andreas,” I stammer in return.
