Page 91 of Selfish Desires

“See? Progress.” Zachary pointed to my forehead.

“I’m just so confused,” I admitted, burying my head in my hands. “How could I still want him? After all he put me through? Put us through?”

“Look, we know Vincent messed up big time. But I think even you know this last stint wasn’t like the first one. You desperately wanted him to be with you when the second round of threats started, but he truly believed that him being near you would have put you in danger.” Zachary’s words washed over my mind.

“And in the end, it did,” I added.

“Right. So you can’t completely fault the guy for distancing himself from you a second time. And this time, it’s not like Vincent disappeared when he did it. You knew where he was, and he kept in touch. It was your choice to not speak to him. He allowed you to stay with him where he thought you would be safest.” Zachary wrapped his arm around Blair, pulling her in.

“Well, I was pissed,” I fired back.

“Of course you were,” Blair conceded, her eyes full of understanding. “You had every right to be. But, Wendy...he’s out there now. Waiting. And he’s trying.”

I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. The warmth from Blair's hand seemed to seep into me.

“Waiting? Really, you think so?” I tried to keep the hopefulness out of my voice. There was a beat of silence, a moment where everything seemed to hang in the balance—my past, my present, and the uncertain future awaiting me.

“Do I want him or not?” I wondered aloud, absentmindedly tracing the rim of my coffee mug with my finger.

“What does your heart say?” Blair questioned gently.

“Honestly?” My voice was softer than a whisper, and I barely found the courage to meet their gaze. “My heart says yes. It always has.”

It was trueI did want Vincent. Despite everything, my heart yearned for him. He was my happiness; he was the one who made me feel alive. How could I ignore such a magnetic pull? I had one life, and when it came to love, sometimes taking risks and facing possible mistakes was worth it.

“I don’t want to wait for Vincent’s call,” I declared, sitting up straight. “I’m going to find him.”

“And what are you going to say when you see him?” Blair asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement.

“Everything,” I replied.

An hour later, I stepped out of the cab and planted both feet on the cobbled sidewalk, staring at Central Park. In the dwindling light of the day, it was serene and beautiful. The park was always Vincent's favorite place—our favorite place. He used to say it was a little calm amid the city’s chaos. Each tree, each blade of grass, seemed to hold some memory of him.

Vincent hadn’t returned my call from earlier, but I didn’t need him to. Something about being here at this moment told me this was the reason why my phone never rang with his name splashed across its screen. He was here waiting for me. I just knew it.

With each step, a tinge of hope mixed with anxiety coursed through my bones. The echoes of our shared laughter and stolen kisses still lingered in the air, and it was as if I could feel him close, his magnetic presence pulling me deeper into the park. Tears welled up in my eyes as I approached that familiar, worn-out bench. And there he was. His back was to me, but I would know Vincent anywhere—the broadness of his shoulders, the way he raked his hands through his hair when deep in thought, even the particular set of his jaw.

“Vincent,” I called out.

He spun around. For a moment, we just looked at each other. He was still as handsome as ever, donning a midnight blue fitted suit, his blue eyes full of emotions that mirrored mine.

“Wendy,” he greeted, a tiny smile playing on his lips to hide the surprise. And then he did the unexpected as he dropped to his knees.

“What are you doing?” My eyes bulged as I took a cautious step closer.

“I’m begging for your forgiveness and begging for you to allow me back into your life.” Vincent reached into his left pant pocket but kept his hand hidden between the fabric.

“Vincent…” His name fell from my lips as my pulse thundered in my chest.

“Just let me finish.” He held up a steady yet trembling hand. “I’m thrilled about the baby. It’s the best news I’ve heard. Ever. But, the thing is, that’s not why I’m begging to be let back into your life. Even without the baby, you are enough. You were always enough. More than I ever deserved. And I know I’ve done horrible things and broken promises, but I swear I did it because I thought I was protecting you.” Vincent shuffled forward on his knees, probably destroying his designer suit. “Wendy, I was so wrong. And I promise you, a real promise, that I will never leave you. Never leave our family.” Vincent extracted his hand from his pocket, holding the pink diamond engagement ring I shed weeks ago. “Wendy, will you take me back?” His eyes widened as I stood there pondering his proposal. “I’ll do anything for you. Be anyone for you. Just please, let’s give it one more shot?” Vincent held the ring higher, the sun tickling the sharp cuts in the diamond. “And if you need time to think, then I completely understand too, because I will always wait for you, no matter how long you need.”

“I...” My voice caught in my throat, but seeing him kneeling there with raw hope etched on his face spurred me on. This was it—years of anticipation and turmoil coming down to this single moment. “I don’t need time,” I whispered finally. His face remained impassive as if he hadn't heard me correctly.

“What did you say?” Vincent’s brow perked.

“I don't need time,” I repeated more firmly this time.

A smile slowly spread across his face, making my heart flutter with happiness and relief.

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