The knock on the door comes when I'm still wrapped in Edward's shirt, my hair messy from the night before, my body still aching pleasantly from everything he did to me. He's in the kitchen, shirtless, making breakfast like he actually lives here like we're already building a life that neither of us has said out loud.
The second knock is harder. Impatient. Entitled.
Edward stiffens.
I frown.
And then I hear it the unmistakable voice I've already come to dread.
Frank.
"Edward. Open this door."
Edward's jaw tightens. He wipes his hands, steps out from behind the counter, and walks toward the entrance.
"Don't," I whisper, grabbing his arm. "You don't owe him anything."
He cups my cheek softly, briefly. "I won't hide from him anymore."
But the moment he opens the door, my breath catches.
Because Frank isn't alone.
Standing beside him is a woman so stunning it almost feels like an insult. Tall, graceful, wearing a fitted cream dress that hugs her curves like it was sewn onto her skin. Red lipstick. Glossy hair. Perfect posture. Perfect everything.
She looks like someone carved her out of expensive marble.
Frank smiles smug, victorious.
"Leah," he says, stepping aside so the woman is fully visible, "this is Clarissa. Edward's fiancée."
My heart drops. The floor disappears. My lungs forget what breathing is.
Fiancée?
Edward freezes.
I stare at him.
He stares at Frank.
"Dad," Edward says slowly, dangerously, "what the hell are you doing?"
Frank gestures casually like he's presenting a business opportunity.
Like he isn't destroying me in real time.
"I thought it was time you told her," Frank says. "Since she'll eventually find out."
Edward steps forward, anger vibrating off him like heat.
"Clarissa and I are not engaged," he says, pointing at Frank. "This" he gestures between Frank and the woman " is your arrangement, not mine."
Frank chuckles.
Clarissa lowers her eyes demurely, pretending to be shy. It's a performance I can tell. She looks at Edward like she already owns him. Like she's already planning their wedding photos.
"You weren't supposed to reject the engagement," Frank snaps. "Clarissa's father and I have been discussing this for months."
I feel like I'm drowning.
Months.
Months.
Edward had been talking to me, kissing me, touching me while his father was planning to hand him off to someone else.
Clarissa finally speaks, her voice silky, trained, elegant.
"Edward, I know the situation is… complicated." She glances toward me, and I feel the burn of her assessment. "But I'm sure we can make this work. My father is still willing to proceed."
Edward laughs cold, quick, savage.
"I'm not marrying you," he says plainly.
Clarissa blinks. She wasn't expecting resistance.
Girls like her probably never hear no.
Frank's face turns red. "Edward, don't make a scene."
"Oh, I'll make a scene," Edward fires back. "You came to my girlfriend's home to the woman I love bringing a stranger and announcing a marriage I never agreed to. That's a scene, Dad."
My heart stutters at the word: love.
Frank freezes.
Clarissa looks offended.
Edward doesn't back down.
But suddenly, irrationally, painfully I step back.
Because none of this feels real.
Clarissa is everything I'm not.
Elegant. Composed. The kind of woman a wealthy family would parade around as a trophy.
And then there's me:
Recently divorced. Scandalous past. Emotional. Still recovering from everything Frank put me through.
What if Edward deserves someone like her?
Edward notices my step back instantly. His eyes snap to mine, panicked.
"Leah. Don't."
But I can't stop the thoughts.
They claw through my chest.
Frank takes advantage of the silence because men like him always do.
"Son," he says calmly, "Clarissa is the best decision for you. For our family. For the business."
Edward's voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "I don't make decisions based on your deals."
Frank ignores him and turns to me.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he asks me. "A clean break? I've given you your freedom. Be grateful. Move on."
Edward grabs him by the arm. "Don't speak to her like that."
Clarissa steps forward, trying to reclaim control. "Edward, please. Let's just talk alone."
His reply is immediate.
"No."
Frank folds his arms. "Edward, you're being unreasonable."
"And you're being manipulative," Edward fires back. "I don't want Clarissa. I never did."
Clarissa's veneer cracks; her voice sharpens.
"You can't possibly be choosing her over me."
I flinch, but Edward doesn't.
He steps in front of me, shielding me with his entire body.
"I don't just choose her," he says firmly. "I belong with her. End of discussion."
Frank looks like he's swallowed poison.
Clarissa takes a step toward Edward, reaching for his arm.
He steps back before she even touches him.
That… hurts her. I see it.
She lifts her chin, eyes glossy with anger rather than tears.
"This isn't over," she says quietly. "My father expects a wedding."
"Then send him my regards," Edward replies, "and tell him it'll never happen."
Clarissa's expression hardens she turns, walks past Frank, and disappears down the hallway.
Frank stays.
Of course he does.
He stares at Edward for a long moment, disappointment radiating off him.
"You're throwing away generations of legacy," Frank says.
"And you've thrown away every meaningful relationship in your life," Edward answers.
They stare at each other two men, same blood, completely different hearts.
Then Frank looks at me, resentment simmering in his gaze.
"You're ruining him," he says.
Edward steps forward.
"No, Dad. She's saving me."
Silence.
Long. Tense. Heavy.
Frank finally leaves without another word.
The door shuts.
The apartment becomes painfully quiet.
I release a shaky breath. "Edward…"
He turns to me instantly, walking toward me like he's afraid I'll vanish.
"Don't look at me like you're about to run," he says softly.
"I'm not running," I whisper. "I'm just… trying to process."
"Clarissa means nothing," he says fiercely. "This arrangement my father pushed it. I rejected it long before I met you."
"But he still brought her," I murmur.
"Because he thinks he owns me. And he thinks he owns you."
His hands come up slow, gentle cupping my cheeks.
"Leah, I chose you before I even realized it. Before I understood what love was supposed to feel like."
I swallow, my voice cracking. "She's perfect, Edward."
"You're perfect for me."
"But she's"
He stops me with a kiss. Slow. Intense. A statement.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
"You're the only woman I want. The only woman I love. And I'm not letting anything especially not my father take that away from us."
My heart stutters.
My fears loosen.
My breath returns.
I wrap my arms around him.
And he holds me like he's been waiting to do it all morning.
The storm came to our door today Frank, Clarissa, all their threats and expectations but Edward didn't flinch.
He chose me.
He keeps choosing me.
And I know, without question…
So will I.