He closed his eyes.
My tears came again, but I kept my voice steady.
“You gave me ‘You don’t need luck.’ I’m giving you no midnight. Because I don’t want the breakup. I don’t want the clean break. I don’t want the fake boyfriend anymore.”
His eyes opened.
“I want the real one.”
Drew’s breath left him.
I pulled the folded papers from inside my coat.
He stared at them.
“I also had my father’s lawyer draft this.”
“Isa.”
“It says I waive any claim to Montgomery money. Richard money. Family business money. NFL money. NIL money. Trusts. Inheritance. Whatever. If you ever choose me and I choose you, I get nothing from you financially unless we both decide otherwise later with actual adults involved.”
He looked almost angry then.
“Baby, I don’t want a woman who needs paperwork to prove she loves me.”
“I know.”
“Then why?—”
“Because you needed proof that I understood what I did to you.” My voice broke again. “Not because I think love is paperwork. Because I know what it felt like when my mother made you feel bought. I know what my silence cost you. This is me saying I heard you. I heard all of it.”
He looked at the papers.
Then at me.
Snow clung to his beanie. His cheeks were pink from the cold. His eyes were bright with all the things he was trying not to feel.
“I don’t want your money,” I said. “I don’t want Richard’s approval. I don’t want my mother’s pride. I don’t want a bigger prize than Tristan Vale. I want your coffee texts. Your bossy protein lectures. Your couch. Your hands. Your stupid cut-off shirts. Your quiet house. Your towels folded like you’re expecting inspection.” My mouth trembled. “I want the man who made a cold kitchen warm because his mother taught him how.”
Drew’s face crumpled for half a second.
Just half.
But I saw it.
I stepped closer and held out my hand.
“I love you,” I said. “You do not have to forgive me tonight. You do not have to trust it right away. But I’m done lying. I love you, Drew Travers. I loved you before I knew how to be brave enough to say it.”
He stared at me.
Then at the ring in his palm.
Then back at me.
“You should’ve said this before I left.”
“I know.”
