June 1st, 1999
The first rays of dawn crept through the heavy curtains, casting a glow across the room. Addie laid in Leo’s arms, her body heavy with exhaustion, her eyes hollow and red-rimmed from the night’s… events. The clock ticked somewhere in the distance, each second scraping against her nerves, a reminder that time continued moved forward even when she felt stuck. Stuck in that moment… hours earlier. Stuck in the heartbreak she felt. Stuck in the pure sadness that consumed her when she found out the truth.
Her gaze wandered up to Leo’s face, taking in every line, every shadow. His features, usually carved from confidence and charm, looked softer now. The faintest furrow of his brow, the tremble of his lashes as he slept—each detail whispered his pain. She leaned into his touch, her forehead brushing against his jaw, and for a moment, she allowed herself to breathe him in. The familiarity, the scent of him, anchored her when everything else felt like it was slipping away.
She shifted slightly, her fingertips brushing his cheek. The pure warmth of his skin grounded her, the stubble rough against her fingertips. His eyes fluttered open, the blue dulled with fatigue, clouded and weary. The sight of him—simply… vulnerable—sent a fresh wave of pain through her chest, the kind that hollowed her out and left nothing behind.
“Leo?” Her voice was fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek, the pad of it warm against her cool skin. His lips, dry and cracked, found hers in a slow, hesitant kiss. A kiss that wasn’t about passion but about connection, about needing her to know he was still there. And… she was.
Her throat tightened painfully, emotion constricting her words. “I love you.” The words felt too small, too inadequate, but they were all she had to give.
He kissed her lips again, firmer this time, a desperate reassurance. “I love you more.”
Her eyes glistened as she leaned back slightly, the warmth of his touch lingering. That’s when she saw it—the ring. Well… not their ring, but the ring that stood in for it. A tiny circle of metal lying abandoned on the floor, as if it, too, had given up.
She reached for it, placing the sheets around her as she maneuvered towards it. Her fingers trembling as they closed around the cold band before she walked back to the bed with Leo. The weight of it felt heavier than it should, a reminder of everything they were fighting for. She leaned towards him, her heart pounding as she extended her hand, the ring balanced on her palm.
Leo’s eyes met hers, flickering with doubt and… and… something deeper—regret, maybe? But when he took the ring, his touch was gentle. He slid it back onto her finger, his thumb lingering over the band, as though trying to etch its meaning into her skin. The loop was complete again, fragile and frayed, but unbroken.
He swallowed hard, his voice low and hoarse. “I… have to go. The golf…I don’t…” His words faltered, his frustration barely contained. A groan escaped him, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want to leave her. Not after everything.
Addie nodded, her fingers reaching up to brush his jaw, her touch feather-light. “I’ll be here…” She paused, searching his eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”
He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing for a brief moment before he nodded. “I’ll survive.” The words were dry, almost bitter. She squeezed his hand, trying to pour every ounce of her strength into him. “I know you will.”
Reluctantly, he pulled away. The absence of his warmth was immediate, a cold ache spreading through her as he stood and gathered his things. He hesitated at the door, one hand on the handle, his gaze lingering on her like he was afraid she’d disappear if he looked away.
When the door finally closed behind him, the click was too loud, too… final. Addie exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, the silence of the room swallowing her whole. Her fingers brushed over the ring on her hand, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth she wished she still felt. She lay back down, the bed vast and empty without him. Her thoughts churned, dark and restless, but she closed her eyes, hoping—praying—that when she opened them again, the world would feel a little less broken.
It wasn’t long until Addie had to leave, too. The soft knock of a maid at the door jolted her out of the hollow silence, her voice gentle, almost apologetic.
“Miss, do you need anything more than coffee and your paper before you head outside?”
Addie’s fingers curled tighter around the sheets. “No,” yes she thought bitterly, although her words fought that. A time machine would have been wonderful…but that wasn’t possible. Sadly, Brooke, Dan isn’t alive yet 
.
With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of bed, her feet hitting the cold floor. The day was waiting, indifferent to the night she’d endured.
The garden was a tableau of forced elegance—lace-draped tables, fragile porcelain teacups, and manicured lawns that felt too pristine to be real. The air was too thick with the scent of roses and subtle judgment. The sun shone too damn brightly, casting sharp shadows on faces that never showed anything but practiced smiles.
The chatter of the girls around her was a high-pitched symphony of gossip and thinly veiled insults, each word dipped in poison. Addie usually danced this dance with ease, but today… everything felt harder. Her skin was too thin, her thoughts too heavy.
She lifted her teacup to her lips, the bitter brew sitting like acid on her tongue. The porcelain felt delicate in her grip, like it might shatter with the weight of everything she was holding in. The laughter, the meaningless noise—it all blurred together until she felt like she was a ghost drifting through someone else’s reality.
Hannah leaned in closer, her voice a low,
“Did you hear?” she whispered, eyes glinting with barely contained excitement. “Lauren’s gone. I saw her stuff being packed up early this morning.”
Addie’s eyes flickered toward Hannah as her lips curled with satisfaction. “I heard her screaming and kicking as two bodyguards dragged her out. What do you think happened?”
A flicker of satisfaction ignited in Addie’s chest, a tiny flame against the hollow feeling inside her. Good. But it wasn’t enough to erase the shadows clinging to her mind. The satisfaction was fleeting, melting away as quickly as it came.
She nodded absently, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. The girls’ laughter felt like needles pricking her skin. Their words bounced around her, hollow and sharp. What did this all even matter? Fck this.
Her head throbbed harder, and the nausea from the night before coiled in her stomach, a cruel reminder of the feeling she couldn’t quite shake.
She pushed back from the table, her chair scraping softly against the stone path. Her voice was polite, distant, barely masking the strain beneath it.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. I need to lie down.”
A chorus of murmured sympathies followed her, each onemore for show than genuine concern. She didn’t care. The tight smiles and empty eyes could blur behind her. She just wanted to leave.
The garden’s elegance faded into the background as she returned to the quiet of the estate. The hallways stretched long and empty, the silence suffocating. She barely registered the cool air brushing against her skin, her thoughts a chaotic tangle of exhaustion, fear, and something she couldn’t quite name.
By the time she reached her room, the door closed behind her like a sanctuary and a cage all at once. She leaned back against it, her eyes closing, the weight of everything pressing down until she slid to the floor.
Her world felt too heavy, but for now, at least, she was alone.
Leo found her curled up on the bed an hour later, the soft rustle of his clothes the only indication of his arrival. She didn’t look up, but she felt him—knew it was him before he even crossed the threshold. The scent of his cologne, faint but familiar, swept over her as the bed dipped under his weight.
He didn’t speak. He just pulled her into his arms, and Addie melted. Her body sank against his, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if he might disappear if she let go. For a long moment, she didn’t say a word—couldn’t. She only held him tighter, burying her face against his neck, letting his warmth anchor her.
And then finally—
“How are you feeling?” His voice was low, roughened by concern, but there was something steadier beneath it. She just… she wanted him to be okay and here he was checking in on her.
Addie clung to him, her fingers curling tighter. “Better now.” And it wasn’t a lie. Being with him, feeling his heartbeat against hers, dulled the sharp edges of everything she’d been holding in.
He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering just long enough to make her eyes sting with tears again. His arms didn’t loosen, not until she shifted, and when he finally pulled back, her gaze fell to the bed… followed by his own.
Laid out against the dark velvet of the comforter was a suit and gown—his and hers. It had been delivered moments before Leo had arrived but Addie had barely paid any attention to it. Now, looking at it - the suit was deep crimson, rich as blood, with a silk sheen that made it glow in the low light. The sharp lines of the lapel looked like fire, sharp and dangerous. And then there was the dress—ice blue and impossibly delicate, the fabric catching the light like crystals reflecting in frozen water.
Addie reached out, her fingers grazing the cool satin. It was breathtaking, too breathtaking, and something in her chest squeezed painfully. It was beautiful and cold. And it didn’t feel like her.
There was a note on top of the clothes - one Addie hadn’t had a heart to open… addressed to both of them. Leonardo Azure and Adelaide Parker… she didn’t have to guess hard to fathom who could have written it.
She watched as Leo’s expression became guarded, picking up the note. The handwriting was sharp, deliberate—just like the man who’d written it.
𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑀𝓇𝓈. 𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓇𝑒. 𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉. - 𝓡.𝓐.
Addie’s stomach twisted violently. It was both a command and a warning, wrapped up in words that made her feel like property rather than a person. Potential. Like this was still a test, a performance she could fail at any moment.
Leo’s jaw tightened as he read it, his thumb brushing the edge of the card like he might tear it in half. “We don’t have to go.” The words were soft, but his voice wasn’t. It was sharp, like he was ready to burn the whole estate down if she gave the word.
For half a second, Addie wanted to say yes. To let him take her hand and run—anywhere but here. But the weight of reality slammed back into her. Running wouldn’t fix this. It wouldn’t erase the looks or the whispers. It wouldn’t stop Richard Azure from owning this moment.
Her fingers brushed over the fabric of the gown again, the silk cold and smooth. Her heart raced, her stomach still churning, but she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
“Yes, we do.” The words felt heavier than she expected, but she didn’t let them crack. She turned to face Leo, meeting his stormy blue eyes with everything she had left. Her hand slipped into his. “But we go together.”
His grip tightened, grounding her. “Always.”
And maybe it wasn’t enough to stop the dread that crawled under her skin, but it was something.
It had to be.
The ballroom glittered with extravagance—too much of it. The chandeliers overhead dripped with crystals, their light scattering across the marble floors like shards of glass. Gilded edges lined every surface, from the columns to the serving trays carried by butlers who seemed to glide rather than walk. The string quartet’s haunting melody echoed off vaulted ceilings, its elegance sharp enough to cut through bone.
But none of it held Addie’s attention.
Her eyes drifted to Leo. The crimson suit he wore clung to him in sharp lines, tailored to perfection. The deep red mirrored the fire in his gaze—controlled, burning just beneath the surface. His cufflinks caught the light—gold, bold, and commanding—and the crisp white of his shirt added a starkness that made him look like he belonged here. And he did.
He had a way of hiding everything else that was going on and putting on a face - something that Addie had learned to… but it was something that she was struggling with… especially today… especially with what had happened.
The ice-blue fabric of her gown rippled as she moved, flowing like water. It was beautiful—impossibly so. A dress that was designed to be worn, not to wear her. But as she ran her fingers along the delicate embroidery at her waist, she felt its weight like chains.
Be pretty. Be perfect. That’s what this dress said. And Addie hated it.
Still, her hand found Leo’s as they stood at the edge of the crowd. And when his fingers squeezed hers in return, the knot in her chest loosened. Just slightly.
Then Richard’s voice cut through the air, smooth and commanding.
“Welcome, esteemed guests.” He stood at the top of the grand staircase, flanked by two butlers in stark black suits. His voice carried, practiced and sharp. “It’s an honor to have you all here, gathered in one of my many estates. Tonight, we celebrate legacy—both old and new. Power, and those who wield it. And perhaps most importantly, we look to the prosperous future we all hold.”
He smiled then, sharp enough to draw blood. “But all of that can wait until later. For now—enjoy yourselves. Dance. Drink. After all, what is life without indulgence?”
Addie’s stomach turned at the word.
Richard’s eyes found hers through the crowd, and that smile deepened. It was a warning wrapped in charm. It always was with these people.
And then he was descending the staircase, weaving through the crowd with predatory grace. By the time he reached them, Leo’s grip on her hand had tightened.
“Well, Adelaide,” Richard said, his voice dripping with pleasantries that didn’t match the sharpness in his eyes. “Let’s continue this… dance, shall we?”
Addie swallowed hard, keeping her smile polite but strained. “I wouldn’t dream of stepping out of… rhythm.”
Richard chuckled, low and calculated, before turning his attention to the incoming waves of guests eager to speak with him. But he didn’t let Addie leave… not like he did before. No, he kept her there—trapped under the weight of conversation after conversation.
The topics blurred together—politics, finances, legacy. Men with too much money and too little conscience spoke of investments and acquisitions like chess pieces, while women smiled prettily and nodded along. More than once, Addie bit her tongue until it ached, forcing herself to smile instead of snapping.
Then Leo was called away.
It wasn’t immediate. At first, he resisted. His eyes locked onto hers like he knew leaving her here was a mistake. But Richard placed a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him toward another group—men who looked just as young and wealthy as Leo but carried themselves like sharks circling blood in the water.
“I’ll be back soon,” Leo murmured. And Addie nodded, forcing a look of reassurance she didn’t feel.
And then she was alone.
“Disgusting,” the man’s voice dragged her back into the present. He was older—mid-fifties maybe—his tie too tight and his voice too loud. “That bill she’s pushing through? Allowing women into policymaking spaces? It’s a disgrace. What’s next? They’ll be running the military?”
Addie’s jaw tightened.
Richard chuckled, shaking his head. “Let them play dress-up all they want. Eventually, they’ll see where they really belong.”
Addie snapped. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She was tired… so bloody tired and the words came out before she could even help it “Maybe if certain men stepped aside for once, the world wouldn’t be in the mess that it is.”
Fck. In that moment, the room seemed to still.
Richard’s eyes sharpened. “Like those girls, you’d do well to learn your place, Adelaide.”
Before she could respond, another man stepped in—older and far worse.
“Oh Rich, leave her alone. She’s just a baby. She’ll learn.” He turned to Addie, eyes raking over her in a way that made her skin crawl. “Come on, sweetheart. How about a dance? I can teach you a lesson or two tonight?”
Addie started to refuse, but Richard’s hand pressed against her back—firm.
“She’d love to.”
The man’s hand was already on hers before she could argue, his grip like iron.
The dance was suffocating. Every step felt heavier. He whispered things in her ear—crude comments, promises she wanted no part of. His hand drifted lower once, then again, lingering until her stomach churned.
“I’m engaged.” Her voice was sharp, but his laugh was sharper.
“And? A beauty like you shouldn’t be wasted on just one man.”
He pulled her closer, and she tried to push away—but his grip didn’t budge.
“And, so get your grubby, disgusting fcking hands off of m-.”
And then—
“That’s enough.”
An older woman stepped in, her eyes cold and commanding. She pulled Addie free, shielding her like a fortress. Addie didn’t know who she was - but clearly she held enough power in the room that the man who was previously attempting to… you know… well he… he backed off. Walked away with a laugh and his hands held up as if he was caught red-handed before going to get a drink “Hold your head high, dear. Never let them see it drop.”
Leo’s mother arrived then, her expression disapproving. “What’s going on here, Madam Sloane?”
Addie opened her mouth, but the older woman cut her off, putting a secure hand on Addie’s shoulder - telling her to stay quiet. “Nothing at all. Just a misunderstanding.” Her voice was calm, smooth, and practiced. The kind of voice that shut down questions before they could even be asked. She gave Addie’s arm one last squeeze before letting go, her eyes softening just enough to be comforting as she leaned in, whispering so soft only addie could hear. “Keep your head high, dear. That’s how you win. And don’t ever let the sharks see you bleed”
With that, the women went back to Leo’s mother - watching them with cold eyes - though those soon disappeared with the woman’s words. But now that I have you, Mrs. Azure, we must talk about the preparations of the coming of age ceremony in a few weeks for all the girls. Come.
Addie swallowed hard, her throat dry and aching. The woman was already turning, already melting back into the sea of silk gowns and sharp suits, leaving Addie stranded in the wake of her words.
And then Leo was there.
He didn’t speak right away. His eyes locked onto hers, searching. His hand found her arm, gentle but unrelenting as he guided her a step back toward him—away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.
“Addie.” Her name wasn’t a question. It was a lifeline. And God, she wanted to take it.
But her stomach twisted, the memory of that man’s hands still burning against her skin. She felt dirty. Like his touch was something she couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard she tried.
Leo’s fingers brushed against her cheek, coaxing her to look up at him.
“What happened?” His voice dropped lower, roughened with something sharp. Worry. Anger.
Addie shook her head. She couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now.
“I’m fine.” The words scraped against her throat, brittle… and so fragile.
His brows furrowed, and his grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor her. To make her feel seen.
“Addie.”
She flinched. It was small, barely noticeable, but Leo noticed. His eyes darkened, the muscles in his jaw ticking as his thumb brushed over her skin again.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Before she could answer—before she could even try—Richard’s voice rang out, smooth and commanding, amplified by the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?”
Addie’s heart sank.
Leo’s hand lingered on her arm, his thumb tracing slow circles against her wrist like he could keep her from falling apart just by touching her. But she could feel his hesitation, the way his shoulders tensed as his father’s voice filled the room.
“This isn’t over.” He leaned down, his breath brushing against her ear, the words quiet but firm. “We’ll talk about this later.
Addie didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
Instead, she forced herself to stand straighter, to lift her chin and meet the sea of eyes turning toward them as Richard’s voice carried on.
And Leo—he didn’t let go. Not yet.
Richard’s voice echoed through the ballroom, steady and deliberate as if every word had been rehearsed a dozen times.
“I trust you’re all enjoying yourselves this evening.” His sharp smile stretched as his gaze swept across the sea of glittering gowns and finely tailored suits. “It’s always a pleasure to host such distinguished company at one of my many estates. Nights like these remind us of the power of legacy. Of tradition.”
The crowd quieted, drawn in by the weight in his voice. He paused just long enough to make sure every pair of eyes was on him before continuing.
“And speaking of legacy…” Richard’s smile grew, polished and sharp as a blade. “I’m thrilled to share a special announcement tonight.”
Addie’s stomach twisted.
Her nails dug slightly into Leo’s arm, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, his grip tightened around her waist, grounding her. Steadying her. But even that wasn’t enough to keep the dread from creeping up her spine.
“As you all know,” Richard went on, “my son, Leonardo, has long been the pride of this family. But tonight, I’d like to introduce you to the woman who will soon stand beside him—not just as his partner, but as the future Mrs. Azure.”
Addie’s breath caught.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my honor to present Duchess Adelaide Parker—currently sixth in line for the English throne.”
The words hit her like a slap, their weight reverberating through the room. It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a statement. A declaration to the world—and to her—that this was no longer her decision.
All at once, the spotlight flared to life, its beam blinding as it landed directly on her. She froze, the murmur of voices swelling around her like a rising tide.
Her chest tightened. She felt Leo shift beside her, his fingers brushing over hers in a silent question. Are you okay?
She wasn’t.
But there was no time to answer.
Richard’s gaze fixed on them, expectant, and Leo’s grip shifted again—gentle, but firm. He was already moving, already guiding her forward toward the stage.
Addie’s legs felt like lead as they climbed the steps. She could feel the heat of every gaze in the room, pressing down on her like weights she couldn’t shake off.
And then they were there, standing beside Richard as the applause swelled.
The claps echoed, sharp and endless, but Addie barely heard them over the blood pounding in her ears.
Richard leaned in, his breath too close, his voice barely a whisper.
“Now be a good girl and conform.”
Addie’s stomach churned violently, bile clawing at the back of her throat. But she smiled. She smiled because that’s what she was supposed to do.
She stepped forward, her hand tightening in Leo’s as she let the room drink her in—ice blue, regal and untouchable.
And she played the role.
The applause still echoed in her ears. Even as they stepped down from the stage—hands clasped so tightly it was almost painful—Addie could feel it reverberating in her bones. She didn’t know how long they stood there, smiling, nodding, murmuring polite thank-yous to every guest who approached them.
People kept coming. Congratulations. You’re stunning together. What a legacy this will be.
Their voices blurred into one another until Addie couldn’t tell them apart.
She felt Leo’s hand on her back, a steady pressure guiding her through the sea of people. Even so, it took everything in her not to flinch every time someone reached out—an arm brushing against her, a hand catching hers in a shake that lingered too long.
Her cheeks ached from smiling. Her stomach churned with the aftertaste of champagne and bile.
They played their part.
But they didn’t stay.
The party swirled on, glittering and alive, but Leo’s father didn’t stop them when they slipped toward the exit. Maybe it was because they had played their part. Maybe it was because Richard knew there was no point pressing for more once the crowd had accepted the engagement.
Or maybe he just didn’t care.
Either way, Addie didn’t look back.
The moment the heavy doors closed behind them, it was like the night air punched her lungs. Cold and sharp, but liberating.
Leo’s arm was still around her waist as they crossed the gravel drive toward the car, but it wasn’t possessive. It was grounding. And she needed it more than she wanted to admit.
The engine rumbled softly, the headlights cutting through the dark as they pulled away from the estate. The world outside blurred—trees, wrought-iron gates, stretches of empty road—but Addie’s thoughts were sharp.
Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since the stage.
Her hand rested on her lap, her fingers curled loosely, but she felt the phantom weight of Richard’s words, his breath so close to her ear. Conform.
It wouldn’t stop echoing.
Leo glanced at her from the driver’s seat, his eyes flicking between her and the road. “You’re quiet.”
Addie swallowed hard. “I just… needed to leave.” Her voice was quiet, almost flat.
Leo’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “We never should’ve gone.”
She looked at him then, and the sharp edges of her fear softened. He looked tired. Exhausted, even, but his eyes still held that same fire—the one that always burned for her.
“I wanted to.” Her words came out softer than she intended. “For you.”
He glanced over again, his jaw tight. “Addie—”
“I wanted to show them that we could do this.” She cut him off, her voice firmer now. “That I could do this.”
Leo didn’t speak right away. His hand shifted to rest on her thigh, thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of her dress.
“You shouldn’t have to prove anything.”
Her chest tightened.
“But I do.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and Leo’s head snapped toward her.
“No, Addie. You don’t.” His voice was sharp now, edged with something dangerous. “You’re already enough. I hate that they made you feel like you’re not.”
Addie’s lips trembled, but she pressed them together, blinking fast.
“I hate it too.”
For the next few miles, silence hung between them—not heavy, not cold, just there.
And then Leo broke it.
“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Addie didn’t answer.
He sighed, his hand tightening briefly on her leg. “The stage? My dad?”
“All of it.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t try to hide it. “I hated tonight.”
Leo’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he pulled the car over. The engine hummed softly as he turned to face her fully.
“Addie, look at me.”
She did.
“You…you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If this is too much—”
“Stop.” Her voice cut through his. “I want this. I want you.”
Leo searched her face, his eyes darker now.
“But?”
Addie let out a shaky breath. “But I can’t shake this feeling. Like this weekend was…” She trailed off, her throat tightening. “An omen.”
Leo’s expression softened. He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“It’s not.” His voice was steady, grounding. “It’s just my family. And they’re not going to change who we are.”
Addie didn’t answer. Not because she didn’t believe him, but because part of her didn’t.
She shifted closer, curling into his side as he started the car again. She wasn’t sure how long they drove, the road stretching endlessly ahead of them. At some point, her eyes fell shut.
Addie woke to the soft scrape of tires slowing. The sky was tinged with pale gold, the sun just beginning to rise. Addie sat up slowly, disoriented, her gaze drawn to the storefront outside. The familiar gold lettering on the window caught the early morning light, making it gleam.
“Wait—” The word barely left her lips as her eyes darted to Leo.
He was already watching her.
The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were soft. Not just soft. Steady. Like he’d been waiting for her to wake up, for her to see this.
“Leo, what is this?”
Her voice cracked slightly, too raw from everything that had unraveled over the last twenty-four hours. Her heart was still heavy, but this—this moment—felt fragile. One wrong move, and all of it would shatter.
Leo didn’t answer right away. He just reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering for a breath longer than necessary.
“I wanted you to have your ring.”
Her breath caught.
Addie’s eyes dropped back to the store window—the same store where she’d left it behind. Where she’d convinced herself it didn’t matter. That it was just a ring. But it did matter. Not because of what it was made of or how much it cost. It mattered because it was hers. Theirs.
And now it was back.
Her throat burned, and she tried to swallow it down, but the emotion welled up anyway. She looked at Leo again, really looked at him, and her chest squeezed so tightly it almost hurt.
“You…” Her voice trailed off, shaking her head slightly, like she couldn’t quite process it. “Leo.”
He just smiled softly—the kind of smile that said he’d do it all again if it made her happy.
She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. She leaned in and kissed him, her fingers curling against his collar as her lips pressed to his.
The kiss wasn’t frantic or rushed, but it wasn’t slow either. It was deep. A confession without words. Her lips lingered, and so did his, until her pulse wasn’t pounding out of fear anymore but out of something warmer. Something safer.
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against his, her breath still shaky.
“I love you.”
Leo’s hand lifted to her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin.
“I love you more.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. For the first time in what felt like days, Addie let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—this was enough.