Page 80 of Letting Go

I turn on my heel, walk back to Lorna, who’s standing like a quiet bodyguard with murder in her eyes, and Idon’tlook back.

Because I’m done.

Really, truly, finally done.

Chapter 30

ONE YEAR LATER

I’m glaring at the elevator panel like it insulted me.

Everything aches. My feet, my lower back, my soul. I spent the last three hours firing some slimy waste of a man-child who decided probation ending was a license to grope the nearest woman. And then had the audacity to argue it.

“No, sir, I don’tcareif she laughed nervously. That’s called fear. You’re fired, you’re blacklisted, and if you so much aslookat another admin, I’ll personally make sure you can’t work in a damn broom closet without a reference check.”

So, yeah. I’m exhausted. I’m in my favourite blazer that now smells like rage. And Caden had thenerveto leave early for some secret lunch meeting and then text me,“Come to my place, not yours. Please.”

No explanation. No emoji. Justplease. Like he knew I’d be irritated but not enough to say no. Ass.

The elevator dings open into the penthouse and it’s... dark.

What the hell!

The city’s skyline glows faintly through the windows, but everything else is bathed in shadows. And quiet. Which is suspicious.

Then I see it. A trail of rose petals, like the most cliché romantic fantasy of all time. My eyes narrow. “If this ends in a chocolate fountain and a threesome, I swear to God…”

I follow the trail past the kitchen, past the sofa where we once made out like horny teenagers after a board meeting, straight to the balcony.

And then I stop.

Because…damn.

There are fairy lights strung everywhere, dripping from the railings like soft, glowing vines, twisted along the railing like magic. The whole space has been transformed. There are fresh flowersplantedin the balcony garden; planted, not just arranged. Like someone got dirt under their nails for this. There’s lavender and white roses and peonies and a few sunflowers, because he says they remind him of me. Everything smells like early summer and hope.

And I’m busy staring at it all, stunned and a little teary and also mentally calculating how much time this took, when I feel him.

Warmth at my back. I turn, heart already thudding.

“What is this?” I ask. Except… the words choke off halfway through.

Because Caden is on one knee.

In tailored suit pants and that open-collar shirt I like with the sleeves rolled back, tattoo’s peeking out, he knows they’re my weakness. And in his hand is asmall velvet box, shaking slightly. And on his face, God. His face.

No smug grin. No smirk. No teasing glint in his eyes. Justhim. Bare. Soft. So, sosure.

It hits me like a punch to the chest. This is not a playful gesture. This isreal.

“I’ve loved you since before I had any right to,” he says, voice low, steady. “And I’ve waited because I knew you needed time. To heal. To grow. To figure out if this was real. And if you’d told me to wait another year, I would’ve.”

My eyes sting.

“But I look at you, at everything we’ve built, everything we’ve survived, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you. Now. Always.”

He opens the box. There’s a ring inside. Beautiful and simple. Like heknowsI don’t need flashy. I just need him.

“Will you marry me?”

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