My heart clenches just seeing him.
“Sophie.” He says my name like he’s been drowning and finally broke the surface.
I move to close the door, panic rising in my throat. I can’t do this. Everything hurts too much.
His foot blocks the door. “Please,” he says, voice quiet but desperate. “I’ve been calling all day. Just give me five minutes.”
“Five minutes to say what? Goodbye?” Bitterness coat my tone, surprising even me. “I don’t need to hear it, Zayn. I already know. You’re probably packing for New York right now.”
He shakes his head firmly, never breaking eye contact. “I refused the offer the moment Cameron made it,” he says clearly. “I’m not leaving, Sophie. Not for any amount of money.”
I cross my arms defensively, armor against hope. “Sure. You turned down partnership, double salary, a corner office overlooking Central Park.” I attempt a laugh that emerges hollow. “Nobody does that.”
“I did.” The intensity makes me flinch as he steps closer, foot still wedging the door open. “Everything I need is standing right in front of me.”
His words hit like a physical blow. Everything inside me free-falls, pulse hammering so hard I feel dizzy. He can’t possibly mean that. Not after everything.
“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You can’t.”
“I’ve never meant anything more in my life.” His voice cracks, revealing raw emotion beneath the surface. “When you ran out, I told Cameron exactly where he could shove his New York offer.”
I step back, stunned by his certainty, the conviction radiating from him. This isn’t the Zayn from five years ago—the ambitious kid obsessed with career advancement who left without looking back. This man looks like he’d burn his law degree if I asked.
“I don’t understand.” My voice emerges small, confused. “Why would you refuse that? It’s your dream position.”
“Itwasmy dream,” he corrects, eyes boring into mine. “But dreams change. I changed.” He takes a shaky breath. “For five years, I chased success and hated every second because you weren’t there. Five years of learning that no prestigious firm or impressive title or massive paycheck could fill the you-shaped hole in my life.”
Tears prick my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. This sounds like dialogue straight from the romance novels stacked beside my bed—those grand declarations heroes make before the happy ending. But real life isn’t like that. People don’t sacrifice dream jobs for love. They don’t choose small towns over Manhattan. They don’t chooseme.
Or do they?
“How do I know this isn’t just…” I struggle to articulate it, throat tight. “How do I know you won’t change your mind when Bellrose gets boring? When the novelty wears off? When someone dangles something shinier?”
“Because I’ve already lived the big city life. I’ve had the prestigious job. I’ve had everything I thought would make me happy.” He drags fingers through his disheveled hair. “And I was absolutely miserable every single day without you.”
One tear escapes, sliding down my cheek. I swipe it away quickly. “I want to believe you,” I whisper. “But I’m terrified.”
Behind me, I hear Harper and Sara shuffling in the living room, pretending they’re not eavesdropping on every word. Mia sits at my feet, head swiveling between us like she’s following a tennis match.
“I need time,” I finally manage, voice trembling. “I can’t process this right now. I need to think.”
Pain flashes across Zayn’s face before transforming into understanding. He nods and withdraws his foot from the doorway.
“Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll wait. As long as you need.” He steps back, creating space. “I’m not going anywhere, Sophie. Not New York, not Seattle, not anywhere. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
His words hang suspended between us. I hug myself tighter, torn between slamming the door and throwing myself into his arms—both impulses pulling with equal force.
“Goodnight, Zayn,” I whisper.
“Goodnight, Sophie.” He holds my gaze one moment longer before turning away, shoulders slumping as he walks down the hall.
I close the door slowly and press my forehead against the wood. An ache spreads through me. He refused the job. He chose to stay. He chose…me?
When I turn around, Harper and Sara are watching from the couch, movie paused mid-scene. My legs feel unsteady as I return to them.
“He turned it down,” I say, the words feeling surreal. “New York. He says he’s staying.”
Harper’s eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit.”
