Page 63 of Checks & Bonds

Henry's eyes softened slightly. "Sounds like you two were close."

"We were," I admitted, feeling a pang of longing. "I miss him every day."

There was a brief silence before Henry spoke again, his tone surprisingly gentle. "My grandfather was something of a legend in our family too."

I looked at him curiously. "Clearly," I said, trying to inject humor in the conversation and failing.

"Yeah." He nodded, his gaze distant as if seeing something far away. "Grandfather was a strict man but fair. He built ourfamily business from the ground up after moving here from Ireland with nothing but the clothes on his back and a dream."

I watched as Henry's features softened further at the memory of his grandfather.

"He used to say," Henry continued with a slight smile, "'A man’s worth isn’t measured by his wealth but by his honor and determination.' He instilled that in all of us."

Henry's eyes remained distant, lost in memories. "My grandfather taught me hard work and discipline. He used to say being a man wasn't about anger or aggression, but control." His gaze flicked to his hands, fingers flexing. "I guess I'm still in need of that lesson too."

My heart skipped at the firmness of his words, at the blazing blue of his eyes.

His jaw tightened as he looked back at me. "I'd do it again, Freya. You're family. Grandfather always said there's nothing more important than family."

I couldn't help but scoff, brushing a stray lock of hair back from my shoulder. "Maybe your grandfather could have sent that memo to my parents," I muttered. The bitterness in my voice surprised even me.

Henry's expression softened into curiosity, tinged with sadness. "What do you mean?"

"When Grandpa died," I began, my voice tight with old pain, "my mother was at a spa and my father was on a business trip. Neither came home. I had to deal with it on my own. They said it was expected, with his age, you know? He was in the hospital with pneumonia, but still. I wish I had been there. I wish he didn't have to die alone. And then after… I was only fifteen. I didn't know what I was doing."

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. I could still hear the phone ringing, still see the cold hospital room whereI'd stood alone, trying to make sense of the words spoken by a doctor who didn't even know my name.

Henry stiffened beside me. He reached out and cupped my cheeks with his large hand, his touch unexpectedly gentle. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone," he murmured.

I swallowed hard, emotions threatening to choke me. His eyes were sincere, filled with a warmth I hadn't expected. I wanted to respond, to tell him how much those words meant, but I couldn't find anything to say. Instead, I just stood there, letting the silence fill the space between us.

For once, silence didn't feel empty; it felt like an understanding—an unspoken connection that neither of us could quite articulate but both could feel.

My chest tightened further as memories swirled around us like ghosts in the dimly lit room. Henry's hand remained on my cheek, steady and reassuring.

Finally, I just nodded slightly and looked away.

"Let's go to bed," Henry murmured, dropping his hand and lacing his fingers through mine.

A spark shot through me, and I looked down at our intertwined hands, surprised by the warmth. But I didn't fight him. He led me upstairs to our room, each step filled with a mix of hesitation and anticipation.

When we reached the room, he released my hand and walked over to his dresser. After rummaging through a drawer, he pulled out a shirt and handed it to me. "Here," he murmured. "For you to sleep in."

I looked down at the shirt, the fabric soft and worn from countless washes. As Henry moved to the restroom, I brought it to my face and inhaled deeply. His scent enveloped me—a heady combination of cedarwood and something uniquely him. It was comforting in a way I hadn't expected.

Quickly, I removed my bra and tossed the shirt over my head. It fell to my mid-thigh, the material brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. The shirt was far too big for me, but that only made it feel more intimate.

Henry emerged from the restroom just as I finished adjusting the shirt. He paused in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over me before settling on my face. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something that made my heart race all over again.

Without a word, he crossed the room and climbed into bed, leaving space for me beside him. I hesitated for a moment before joining him, slipping under the covers and feeling the warmth of his body radiating towards me.

As we lay there in the dim light, I couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so complicated between us. But for now, with his scent surrounding me and his presence beside me, it felt like we were finding our way back to something real.

"Freya," Henry murmured from beside me. "I won't make a fool of you."

I furrowed my brows and turned to look at him so I was on my side. "What are you talking about?"

"You say you're concerned about marriage because of fidelity expectations," he said. "It goes both ways. I won't step out on you."

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