Page 68 of The Billionaire I Left Behind

I let her go once. But not again. The garden’s thriving now, roses in bloom, pathways cleared, everything rebuilt just like the house. Just like her trust. And now, this.

Buddy sniffs around, his tail wagging as he barks toward the house. My cue that Emma will be back soon. I scrub a hand over my jaw, inhaling deep. This is more than just a swing. She’ll know what it means, what I mean.

I check my watch. Dinner. I’ve been planning it all day. Her favorite, lemon-garlic shrimp with creamy pasta, fresh sourdough on the side, and a bottle of white wine. I don’t cook often but tonight needs to be special.

And not just dinner. A movie night. Here.

I head to the storage shed, pulling out the old projector and a white sheet. We used to do this all the time as teenagers, sneaking out late to watch films under the stars. The setup isn’t hard, a string of fairy lights from the porch, a few blankets, a low table for the food.

By the time the sun dips lower, everything’s in place. Soft glow from the lights, the swing perfectly framed, our favorite movie cued up on the screen. All that’s left now is her.

I hear her car pulling up, followed by the telltale sound of Buddy’s paws on the front steps. My heart kicks up. Here we go.

She calls for me, her voice drifting through the house, and I call back, “Backyard!”

Seconds later, Buddy barrels toward me first, tail wagging furiously as he goes straight for the bowl of food I set out for him. Then Emma steps through the back door and everything stops.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the swing first, then the candlelit dinner, the soft glow of the projector. She’s stunned, lips parting slightly, eyes darting between me and everything I set up.

“You did all of this?” she breathes. I shrug, trying to keep it casual, but my pulse is hammering. “Thought you deserved a night off.”

She takes slow steps forward, fingers grazing the swing. “You fixed it?”

“Our spot, right?”

Her fingers tighten around the chains, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are soft, searching. There’s something unreadable there, something I wish I could decode. Then she does something that makes my chest ache. She smiles.

A real smile, one that reaches her eyes, one that reminds me of before.

She whispers my name, and before I can think twice, I reach for her, pulling her into a hug.

She tenses for half a second, then melts against me, her arms looping around my back, her face pressing into my chest. My arms tighten, my fingers pressing into the small of her back, holding her there. Oh yes, she fits. She fits perfectly.

I can feel her heartbeat against mine, her fragrance wrapping around me, her breath feathering against my skin. It’s the kind of hug that says more than words ever could.

I’m here. I see you. I feel this too.

When she finally pulls back, it’s slow, reluctant, even. Her fingers linger on my shirt before she steps away. “This means a lot,” she murmurs.

I swallow hard. “I meant it to.”

For a moment, she just looks at me, eyes darting across my face like she’s searching for something, for proof this is real.

I don’t push. Instead, I gesture to the table. “Sit. Let’s eat before the movie starts.”

Her lips twitch at that, a ghost of amusement flickering in her gaze. “A whole movie night too?”

I grin. “Go big or go home, right?”

She laughs, light, soft, beautiful. Then she takes a seat, and I follow. We eat, and it’s easy.

She teases me for going all out. I tease her for taking tiny sips of her wine like she’s trying to make it last forever. Buddy lays between us, quiet for once, only perking up when Emma sneaks him a bite of shrimp.

Then the movie starts, and somewhere between the opening credits and the first act, she leans against me. I freeze.

Not because I don’t want it, but because I want it so much it terrifies me. She shifts slightly, like she’s testing the weight of it, the feel of being this close to me. My arm is resting along the back of the swing, and after a few beats, I let my fingers drift just barely brushing her shoulder.

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she relaxes, her breath slowing, her warmth seeping into me. Minutes pass, and all I can focus on is her.

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