Hudson No-Last-Name said he loved me.
Our gazes met, and for a moment, I glimpsed the man I’d fallen for before everything had imploded. The one who’d made me laugh in our shared office and challenged my ideas even as he respected them. The man who’d stayed late at the office to take things off my plate when I got stressed and gave me the best fucking orgasms I’d ever experienced.
“I know that’s a lot to process, but I miss you. I miss what we could have been if I hadn’t ruined it. I’m not asking for another chance, Mari. I just wanted you to know that what I did wasn’t about you not being good enough. It was about me not being brave enough to be real. Not until it was too late.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache.
“I’ve missed you too,” I admitted, the words feeling like both a surrender and a victory. “Even while I was hating you, I missed you.”
Hope flickered across his face, quickly tempered with caution. “Mari?—”
“I’m not saying I forgive you. Not completely. Not yet. And I certainly don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.” I looked him upand down and shook my head. “Definitely couldn’t throw you.” I set down my pizza suddenly needing my hands free. “What you did... it hurt. More than I want to admit.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. More than I can ever express.”
“But this...” I gestured to the laptop, to the documents, to him. “This matters. What you’ve done to make it right matters. And that you did it expecting nothing in return... that matters most of all.”
I moved then, closing the distance between us on the couch until our knees were touching.
“I want to try,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “To forgive. To rebuild. To see if there’s still something real between us.”
His expression shifted from surprise to cautious hope. “Are you sure? I don’t deserve?—”
“This isn’t about what you deserve,” I interrupted. “It’s about what I want. And despite my better judgment and against the advice of my voodoo doll collection, I want to see where this could go. The authentic version this time, not the one built on lies.”
A smile—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes—spread across his face. “I’d like that. More than anything.”
“But,” I held up a warning finger, “there are conditions.”
“Name them.”
“One, we take it slow. Professionally and personally. I’m not jumping back into anything until I’m sure I can trust you again.”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Two, complete transparency. About everything. If we’re going to do this—the app, us, any of it—no more secrets.”
“Done.”
“And three,” I leaned closer, my face inches from his, “you have to promise to never, ever tell anyone that I actually fainted like some nineteenth-century damsel. I’ll find my own way to blackmail Anica into not telling, but this is how you promise me.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“Good.”
And then, before I could overthink it, I closed the remaining distance between us and kissed him because we both fucking knew slow was not in our vocabulary.
And he was still the most fuckable man I’d ever laid eyes on.
When we pulled apart, his eyes were dazed, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
“For the record,” I said, feeling my smile bloom, “that wasn’t forgiveness. That was... possibility.”
“I’ll take it,” he replied, his voice unsteady. “Possibility is more than I dared hope for.”
“Well, hope away, Hudson No-Last-Name. Because despite my best efforts to hate you forever, it seems I’m not quite done with you yet.”
His smile widened. “Thank god for that.”
