I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of peace envelop me. "I never knew love could feel like this," I murmured, my voice filled with contentment.
"Me neither," he replied, his fingers gently playing with my hair. "But I wouldn't trade i...
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Amelia Harrington
I was in the middle of a dream, something peaceful and far removed from reality, when a persistent beeping sound tugged me out of it. I stirred but tried to go back to sleep, convinced it was just my alarm. Then I heard a groan, low and irritated, followed by the sensation of something shifting beneath me. My eyes fluttered open, and to my shock, I found myself staring into the intense black eyes of Tyler Harrington.
Oh no. I was lying on him. My heart raced as I quickly got up, moving to sit on the couch beside him. My mind scrambled to make sense of everything. How did we end up like this? The memories of earlier events rushed back in a whirlwind: Tyler leaving for the airport, returning unexpectedly, discovering my secret, and then my panic attack. I don't even remember how we ended up on the couch together.
Tyler was already on the phone, his voice low and commanding. "No, cancel the deal or send someone else. I'm not going anywhere." His tone was final, and after a moment, he ended the call. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the storm of emotions building inside me. My gaze remained down, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, but I felt him approach me. He lifted my chin gently, forcing my gaze to meet his.
"Strawberry," he said softly, his pet name for me bringing a wave of warmth, but his eyes were filled with something darker, something serious. "You and I need to have a serious conversation. You'll answer everything I ask, and you'll do it with words. No nodding this time. Understood?"
My heart pounded in my chest. Why was he making me feel so vulnerable? My voice trembled as I replied, "Y-yes, I'll answer."
He gave a curt nod. "Good. Freshen up and come to my room. We need to talk."
He was about to leave when I panicked and reached out, grasping his hand. He glanced down at my hand before looking back at me, eyebrow slightly raised. "W-what about your flight?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
A small, almost amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's not more important than you," he said simply before leaving the room.
My stomach twisted with guilt and uncertainty. He was staying for me. And I was about to tell him everything—the truth I had buried so deeply, I wasn't sure I could even bear to say it out loud.
I freshened up, trying to calm my nerves, but they were relentless. When I finally reached his room, I hesitated, my hand raised to knock, when his voice called out from inside. "Come in, Amelia."
How did he always know?
I stepped inside, feeling the weight of the air between us. Tyler stood by the window, his broad shoulders tense, hands tucked into his pockets. He didn't turn around. "Sit," he instructed, his voice firm but not unkind.
I obeyed, sitting down on the edge of the couch. He stayed where he was, staring out of the window as if gathering his thoughts.
"Amelia," he began, his voice softer now but still carrying that commanding edge, "if I ask you something, will you answer me honestly? With words, not silence?"
