He pauses, his eyeline dropping to the ground before bouncing back up to meet mine again. “When I first came here, I was stuck with my writing and life. I kept finding my worth in anyone who would give me validation. I didn’t believe I could stand on my own. And then, I met you.”
My breath catches, his words sinking into the quiet space between us.
“You’re the first person in a long time who’s made me feel like I could be myself,” he continues, his voice steady but brimming with emotion. “You don’t expect me to be anything other than who I am. You don’t want to change, mold, or use me. I’ve always felt like a means to an end with most people, but not you.”
I don’t know how to respond. My heart feels like it’s expanding and breaking at the same time. “Henry,” I begin, my voice wavering. “I’m glad you feel that way, but you’ve been through so much. What if you’re just saying this because it’s easy to latch onto someone new?”
His expression tightens, but he doesn’t look away. “Believe me, Emma, I’ve spent sleepless nights thinking about it. But the more time I’ve spent with you, the more I realized it’s not about escaping my past. It’s about finally wanting to move forward. With you.”
The honesty in his voice cuts through my defenses. More than anything, I want to believe this man standing before me is ready to let go of the chains holding him back.
“I quit the ghostwriting job,” he adds, stepping closer. “I did it right after our first date. I knew I couldn’t keep living like that and letting Jenn have even a sliver of control over me. It was the hardest decision I’ve made in years, but it was the right one.”
I blink, the surprise washing over me like a wave. “You quit?”
“I did,” he says firmly.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Henry,” I say quickly. “I don’t want you to give up on your dream for me. I would never be okay with that. I?—”
Before I can finish, he cuts me off. “Emma, stop.” His voice is full of conviction that sends a shiver down my back. “I’m not giving up on anything. I’m just starting fresh. I’m going to keep writing, but I’m going to write what I want. I will publish another novel, and I can do it without Jenn.”
I open my mouth to say something more, but the words get caught in my throat as he steps closer. His hand settles on my waist, pulling me to him gently but insistently.
“I know we haven’t known each other for that long,” he continues, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “But I feel like I’ve been waiting for something like this. Something real.” His thumb brushes over my skin, sending a ripple of warmth through me. “And I’m not letting go of it.”
My breath hitches. I don’t know what to say. My mind races with more doubts and fears, but those doubts start to feel like a distant echo with his arms wrapped around me.
Before I can process any of it, he’s leaning down, and his lips are brushing against mine in a tentative kiss. Much like Henry, it’s soft at first and deepens.
His hands slide up to cup my face, tilting my head slightly as the kiss intensifies. I feel everything in that moment—the pressure of his lips, the heat between us, the unspoken promise that this is something worth fighting for.
When we finally pull apart, our breaths come heavy, and I’m left with a feeling of warmth and hope—like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the darkness.
CHAPTER 22
When Henry pulls back from the kiss, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. I can feel the sincerity in his words and the truth behind his actions. Over the last few weeks, this man has become my world. Offering me a chance at something I didn’t think I’d get another shot at.
“Emma,” he breathes, his voice hoarse. “I know that was a lot to take in. I just want to make sure you’re a hundred percent in before we take this any further. “
My heart races in my chest, and the intensity of the moment washes over me. For the first time in a long time, I want to hope for something good. I deserve someone like Henry, and I am tired of denying it.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I want this. I want you.”
Henry’s face lights up in a smile, his eyes shining with relief and happiness. “Thank God,” he mutters. His hand lifts to cup my cheek again, his thumb brushing the soft crevice beneath my eye. I melt into his touch. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that.”
My eyes flicker to his lips, and a palpable spark formsbetween us when our eyes reconnect. A spark that threatens to burn up and leave nothing behind.
When I lean in a second time, I know there is no turning back. And then his lips connect with mine, and I welcome the way his tongue forces my mouth open, hungry for more.
Our kisses grow more urgent, and our tongues dance together as we explore each other’s mouths. This isn’t the first time we’ve kissed, but it feels like the first time I’ve fully let myself go in his arms. I wanted to mold my body into his and stay there for hours.
Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Henry leads me back inside, forcing the door open while keeping his mouth attached to mine. Our movements are frantic and desperate, but somehow, he successfully guides me to the door that leads to his bedroom.
When we are about to cross the threshold, I pause. If we were about to do what I think we were, this was a big deal. It has been over a year since I’ve been intimate with anyone, and even then, I’d only been with Colt. I was crossing into unknown territory.
Henry notices my hesitation immediately, his lips still against mine until he pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. His hands rest gently on my waist, anchoring me in the moment. His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, but his eyes are soft, searching mine for consent.
“Emma,” he says quietly, his voice steady despite his pulse beating rapidly beneath my hands. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready. Just tell me, and I’ll stop. I mean it.”
