“This is not how normal people fix things,” I hissed. “You don’t hijack airport announcements. You don’t invite thepress—who are they even associated with?”
He turned slightly, glancing at the group of photographers and reporters nearby. “I invited them.”
“Youwhat?”
“If I was going to lose you, I wanted proof that I tried. And if I win you back, I want the whole world to know exactly who you are—mine.”
My heart pounded so wildly I could feel it punch my ribs.
“You think I will forgive you because you made it a production?” I asked, voice shaky.
“No,” he said as if it were a simple truth. “But this is the only thing I know how to do right now. A grand gesture, a chase through the airport, a girl who might still get away, and a foolish man. The only thing missing was the cameras.”
Ambrose, the man who has always treated love like it was a liability. The one who touched me like I was dangerous. The one who kissed me like he was starving but could never be honest.
And now, he was here.
Begging.
Risking.
Making a grand gesture.
“Last call for flight A604,” the lady yelled at me though the intercom. “Ma’am, are you boarding?”
My mouth hung open, my eyes flicking between Ambrose and the gate.
“I am not asking for forever, Flower. Just three more minutes.”
“And after that?” I asked, searching his eyes for truth.
“Then I’ll ask again. And again. And again.” His voice cracked. “Until you let me stay. Until I earn my place at your side.”
Tears stung behind my eyes.
He looked terrified. Like he had never wanted anything the way he wanted me to stay.
“You really invited the press?” I whispered, still in disbelief.
“I needed it to be real,” he said. “For you. For me. For every time I let you believe in a lie.”
A single tear escaped, sliding down my cheek before I could catch it. He watched it fall like it was sacred.
“You’re an idiot,” I murmured.
He exhaled something like a laugh. “Absolutely. But I’myouridiot, if you’ll have me.”
“I-I don’t know, Ambrose. I have never been able to do something for myself. And going back with you? I wouldn’t be changing anything. I don’t want to lose myself again.”
“Ma’am,” the gate agent said again, sharper this time. “You need to make a decision.”
Harper
ONE YEAR LATER
“So, Harper,” Patrick James started, placing his recorder on the small coffee shop table between us. “Let’s start easy. You’ve been out of the spotlight for nearly a year. Everyone’s wondering the same thing. How have youreallybeen?”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling. “Honestly?”
