I wake before he does.
Edward's arm is draped across my waist, warm and protective, like even in sleep he refuses to let me drift too far. His face is buried against my shoulder, his breath soft and steady on my skin. I can feel the weight of his body pressed along mine, grounding me, warming me, confusing the hell out of me.
I stare at the ceiling, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and warmth I can't even name.
Last night…
Last night felt like giving in.
Like surrendering something I've been holding tight to for far too long.
Like stepping into something dangerous and beautiful at the same time.
I should be terrified.
But lying here, wrapped in Edward's arms, the fear feels smaller than the truth pulsing quietly in my chest.
I missed him.
I wanted him.
I still want him.
And the terrifying part?
Wanting him doesn't feel temporary anymore.
I'm still thinking about that when his fingers shift against my waist, slow and lazy, tracing tiny circles on my skin. His breath changes too slightly deeper, slightly awake.
"You're thinking too loudly," he murmurs against my shoulder.
My breath catches. "You're awake?"
"Have been," he says, his voice thick with sleep. "Couldn't move. You were too warm."
I roll my eyes, even as my chest warms. "That's a strange reason to stay still."
"It's the perfect reason," he says, lifting his head just enough to brush his lips along my neck. "You were in my arms. Why would I move?"
I look away so he won't see my blush, but Edward notices everything.
"What's going on in there?" he whispers, tapping lightly against my temple.
"A lot," I admit quietly. "Too much."
He shifts, lifting himself onto his elbow so he can see my face. His hair is messy from sleep, his eyes soft and warm and entirely too vulnerable for this early in the morning.
He studies me like I'm some kind of puzzle he's determined to solve.
"You're scared," he says finally.
I swallow. "Maybe."
"That I'm Frank's son?" he asks gently.
My stomach tightens. Even hearing that still feels like swallowing a stone.
"Yes," I whisper. "That. And… everything."
Edward nods, his expression calm not surprised, not angry. Just… steady.
"I get it," he says. "It's a lot. For both of us."
I exhale shakily. "I shouldn't have pulled away from you. But when I saw him when he called you his son I panicked. I didn't know how to process any of it."
He lies back down beside me but keeps his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing my skin with slow, comforting strokes.
"I know why you ran," he says softly. "But it didn't make losing you hurt any less."
My throat tightens.
"You didn't lose me."
He smiles sadly. "You didn't answer my calls. Or my texts. Or my visits."
"I know," I whisper, guilt pressing down on my chest. "It's just… Frank hurt me so much. And suddenly you were connected to him in a way I didn't expect. I didn't want you to be another wound."
Edward's eyes soften even more something warm, something deep, something terrifying.
"Leah," he whispers, "I would never hurt you."
I look at him then. Really look.
And what I see almost breaks me.
He means it.
I try to speak, but words stick in my throat. My chest tightens so painfully I have to press my palm against it.
Edward takes my hand.
"Can I tell you something?" he asks quietly.
My heart flips. "What?"
He leans closer, brushing his forehead against mine.
"I didn't come here just because I missed you."
My breath stops.
"I didn't kiss you because I was frustrated."
His voice grows softer.
"I didn't stay because it felt good."
He cups the back of my neck, pulling me into the warm safety of his gaze.
"I stayed because I'm in love with you, Leah."
My world stops.
Everything freezes. My heartbeat. My breath. My thoughts.
All of it.
He holds my face gently as he continues.
"I love you," he whispers. "Not casually. Not temporarily. Not out of lust or comfort or convenience." His thumb wipes a tear I didn't realize was falling. "I love you in a way that makes me terrified to let you go."
My chest cracks open.
"Edward…" My voice breaks. "You don't have to"
"I do." He shakes his head. "You need to hear it. I need to say it."
He swallows hard. "These last few days without you? They were hell. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. Because I kept wondering if I'd lost the only woman who ever made me feel something real."
Tears stream down my face.
He touches my cheek lightly. "I love you, Leah. I've been falling since the night you kissed me at the bar."
"I didn't even know your name," I whisper, shaking.
He smiles. "I knew yours. You told me after you kissed me the second time."
I laugh through my tears. "That sounds like me."
"And I knew," he continues, "from the moment I walked into your apartment that first night… that you were going to change everything."
My breath comes out trembling.
He wipes my tears with soft kisses along my cheeks, my forehead, my nose.
"Talk to me," he whispers. "Please."
I take a shuddering breath.
"I'm scared," I admit. "Not of you. But of how much I feel. It's too fast. Too intense. Too real."
"I know," he says softly. "I feel the same."
"What if we ruin each other?" I whisper.
He takes my hand and places it on his chest right over his heart.
"It's already yours."
My breath catches.
"I don't care how messy it is," he murmurs. "I don't care what people think. I don't care that Frank is my father. You're not his wife anymore. You owe him nothing. And I owe him even less."
He takes a shaky breath.
"I choose you."
Something inside me shatters in the softest, most devastating way.
"Say something," he whispers. "Even if it's not what I want to hear."
I look into his eyes full of hope, fear, longing, and sincerity.
My voice comes out quiet.
"I'm falling for you too."
He freezes.
I touch his face, fingers trembling. "I don't know what it means yet. Or how to survive the complications. But I know that last night wasn't just desire." I swallow. "It meant something."
His exhale is shaky.
"It meant everything," he says.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me like something precious. I melt into him, burying my face in his neck, letting his warmth sink into me.
He whispers into my hair:
"I love you, Leah. I'm not taking it back."
My heart twists, soft and painful and overwhelming.
For the first time since my divorce…
since Frank…
since the betrayal that tore me apart…
I feel wanted.
Chosen.
Seen.
And as Edward's arms tighten around me, one truth settles into my bones like warm light:
This man isn't my mistake.
He might actually be my fate.