I always thought love was a soft word fragile, easy to break, something whispered quietly in dark rooms.
But watching Edward pace my living room that night after Frank's threat…
Watching him sort through everything he'd known his entire life…
I realized something I never understood before:
Real love isn't soft.
Real love is a choice.
A violent one, sometimes.
A painful one.
A brave one.
And tonight, Edward chose.
He stood with both hands on his hips, head bowed, breathing slowly like he was fighting a battle inside himself.
I sat on the edge of the couch, watching him, wanting to reach for him but not wanting to interrupt whatever was happening inside his chest.
Finally, he exhaled and looked at me.
His eyes were warm.
Resolved.
A little scared.
But sure.
"Leah," he said, voice low. "Sit with me."
He reached out a hand.
I placed mine in his, letting him pull me onto his lap. His arms wrapped around me instantly, as if they belonged there.
I rested my forehead against his.
"You're too quiet," I whispered.
He smiled faintly. "I want to say it right."
"Say what?"
"That today… today was the day I realized what really matters."
I swallowed, waiting.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers shook slightly.
"My father taught me money was power. Status was security. And love was… optional."
His voice tightened.
"A luxury. A distraction."
My chest clenched.
"But you."
He cupped my face gently.
"You taught me something else."
"Edward…"
"You taught me love isn't a distraction. It's direction."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He continued, voice stronger now:
"I don't want my father's money. I don't want his company. I don't want a life built on his rules. I want you."
I felt my breath catch. "Even if it costs you everything?"
He nodded slowly. "Especially then."
I needed to be sure.
Not for me but for him.
"Edward… this isn't a movie. You'll lose your accounts, your inheritance, your access to everything you've ever had."
"I know."
"You'll have to work for things you used to get easily."
"I know."
"You may even have to start from the bottom."
"I know that too."
I pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady, unwavering.
"And you're still choosing me?"
He leaned closer, lips brushing mine lightly before he whispered:
"I'm choosing us."
The world stopped.
My throat tightened painfully.
"You'll resent me," I whispered. "One day, you might."
"If I walk away from you," he said, voice trembling, "I'll resent myself."
I closed my eyes as a tear slipped out. He wiped it away before it fell.
"Leah, I've lived in a cage my whole life. Gold-plated. Comfortable. But still a cage."
He traced my jaw gently.
"You… you're the only thing that ever made me feel free."
He pulled me close and kissed me slowly, deeply, like he was telling me the rest of his story through his mouth.
Not lust.
Not hunger.
Not desperation.
But certainty.
I tasted his decision.
His conviction.
His love.
His kiss wasn't a promise of passion.
It was a declaration of devotion.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, he whispered:
"I choose you, Leah. Over money, over comfort, over the life I was born into. I'm choosing the life I want."
I touched his cheek. "You're sure?"
He smiled softly. "I've never been surer of anything."
He held my hands between his, thumbs stroking gently.
"I'm going to look for a new job," he said. "One that's mine. One I earn. One not tied to my father's influence."
Pride warmed my chest. "You can do anything."
"And I'll move all my things here by the end of the week," he added. "No more half-living with you. I want this to be my home."
My breath hitched.
"Edward…"
He squeezed my fingers. "Unless you don't want that."
"I want it," I said instantly. "I want you here."
He exhaled in relief, laughing softly. "Good. Because I don't want to wake up anywhere you're not."
My heart fluttered helplessly.
He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip.
"I'll get rid of that bank account my father controls. Close it completely. He can't use it as a leash if it doesn't exist."
I blinked, stunned. "That's… huge."
"It's freedom," he corrected gently.
Then he whispered something that shattered me:
"I'm not losing you because of money. Because of fear. Or him. I'm not losing the one thing in my life that finally feels right."
I pressed a hand against his cheek.
"You're giving up so much for me."
He kissed my palm. "No. I'm giving up what was hurting me."
I swallowed hard. "Just promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't ever regret this choice. Don't ever look at me like I cost you your life."
He pulled me fully against him, arms tightening around my waist.
"You didn't cost me my life," he said softly.
"You gave me one."
My eyes burned instantly.
He rested his forehead on my shoulder.
"I'm choosing the woman who sees me. Who loves me. Who doesn't expect me to be a perfect heir or a flawless son."
His arms tightened more.
"I'm choosing the woman who makes me feel like I'm enough."
God, that broke me.
"I love you," I whispered against his ear.
He trembled slightly. "Say it again."
"I love you, Edward."
He exhaled shakily, like my words were oxygen he desperately needed.
After a long moment of quiet, he lifted his head, eyes glowing with something fierce.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I'm going to tell my father again. In person. With no hesitation. No fear. That I'm not returning to that life."
My stomach twisted. "He'll try to manipulate you."
"He already did."
Edward kissed my forehead.
"And it didn't work."
"He'll threaten more."
"I don't care."
"He'll try to drag you back."
Edward's eyes hardened.
"He can't drag back someone who finally learned how to walk forward."
I leaned in and kissed him again slow, shaking, full of everything I felt.
He kissed me with equal hunger, pulling me onto his lap again, pressing his forehead to mine as he whispered:
"Tomorrow I stand against everything I was raised to be."
His voice dropped lower.
"And I stand for you."
Later, we lay in bed his chest against my back, his arm around my waist, his breath warm on my neck.
The storm outside tapped lightly against the windows, but inside, the room was calm.
Warm.
Safe.
Ours.
His fingers traced patterns on my skin.
"You okay?" he murmured.
"Yes," I whispered. "Are you?"
"I've never felt lighter."
I took his hand and kissed it softly.
"Whatever happens," I said quietly, "you won't go through it alone."
His grip tightened.
"And neither will you," he whispered against my neck.
"I'll spend the rest of my life choosing you, if you let me."
My heart burst.
"I'm not going anywhere."
He held me tighter, breathing deeply, like he was memorizing the moment.
And in the deepest part of my soul…
I knew this was the turning point.
Edward wasn't just choosing me over his father.
He was choosing me over the life he was born into.
He was choosing love over money.
Freedom over control.
Us over everything.
And that was the most beautiful choice anyone had ever made for me.