His greatest love.

Chapter 41.

The house was silent again.

Baby Mariana was tucked warmly in bed after she woke up in the middle of the night and now her beautiful home hummed with the kind of stillness only the deepest part of the night brings. 

Was it crazy that she was still expecting him to show up despite everything??

After Miguel's visit she finally realized the world was moving and it was upto her to decide how she wanted hers to move on.

She poured herself a glass of water when there was a soft but clear knock on the door. She was barefoot on the cold marble floor, her silk robe wrapped tight around her body that was returning back to how it was. She walked slowly to the door and her heart fluttered as she saw who it was.

It was him.

He was late but he was still here.

She hesitated softly then opened the door.

There he was.

Drenched in moonlight with his dark trench coat slightly damp from the misty air, hair tousled and his stormy eyes darker with something different.

Relief.

She stepped aside allowing him to enter the house as the heater in the house worked its magic.

"I didn't think you would come." She said silently before locking the door behind her.

"I didn't think you wanted me come come," He said tired as he removed his coat.

"Turns out you are a very miss-able person," She said lightly helping him put his coat on the entrance rack.

"That goes for you too. I couldn't stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "I needed to see you. Just you." 

She met his eyes and seriously looked into it only to see the vulnerability he was offering himself to.

She looked at his hand.

It was trembling but not because of the cold.

Because so was hers.

Neither of them spoke,

Until she moved.

She slowly reached out to him, her fingers brushing the edge of his suit coat, sliding up to his collar. She gently pulled, guiding him in but her eyes never left his as his hand settled on her curves of her hips. Their breath mingled as her lashes fluttered.

Then she kissed him.

Not softly.

Not cautiously.

But like a woman tired of lying to herself.

A woman that's ready to fix what had been broken.

His response was immediate like it was everything he was waiting for. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him, kissing her back with the kind of fire you only taste when something is real, forbidden and yours. Their mouths moved with a hunger that wasn't rushed—it was slow, deep, familiar. Like coming home.

And yet—this time, it felt different.

His body relaxed in her arms taking away all the pressure he had been carrying all his life. His breath caught in his throat when her hand slid into his hair bringing emotions that he never knew. His mouth paused on hers like he was memorizing the taste of a promise trying to think maybe it was just one of the many dreams he had about her.

And she noticed.

She felt it.

The way his chest softened beneath her touch. The way his grip trembled as he held her tighter. The way his kiss lingered between every word like he was asking her to feel what he couldn't say.