Chapter 114: The Buttons

Cecilia

He went back to his desk, and I just watched him work, taking in how intense he looked when he was focused—the way his fingers flew across the keyboard, that little crease that appeared between his eyebrows when he was really concentrating.

There was something kind of hypnotic about it, seeing him like this when he didn't think anyone was paying attention, when all those walls he kept up were just... gone.

And suddenly, watching him like this—so serious and gorgeous and completely in his element—something just clicked in my chest, like a light switching on in a room I'd forgotten existed.

"Arthur," I said, way louder than I meant to, and we both kind of jumped.

He looked up instantly, already on alert. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need Dr. Morrison—"

"I love you," I blurted out, the words practically tripping over themselves to get out, like they'd been stuck inside me forever just waiting to break free.

Arthur went completely still, like someone had hit pause on him, his eyes locked on mine so intensely I could feel my heart literally pounding against my ribs.

Then he was moving, crossing the room in like three steps and pulling me up off the couch and into his arms so hard it would've knocked the wind out of me if I wasn't already expecting it, wanting it, needing it.

"Say it again," he said against my neck, his arms wrapped around me so tight I could barely breathe, and I could feel him trembling.

"I love you," I whispered into his shoulder, feeling the words settle into something real and solid between us. "I love you, I love you, I love you—"

"You told me that once before, in the room." he said quietly, his voice all rough and emotional. "When you were eighteen. Do you remember?"

I closed my eyes, trying to grasp at something that felt like it was just out of reach. "I... I think so. It's kind of blurry, but—"

"You were so brave," he continued, holding me even tighter until I could feel his heartbeat racing against my chest. "So sure. You looked at me with those eyes and said you loved me, and I—" His voice cracked. "I sent you away."

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and suddenly I could feel it—the memory trying to push through, like something frozen trying to break through ice. Pain. Heartbreak. The gut-wrenching certainty that I'd been rejected by the person I loved most in the entire world.

"Why?" I asked, my voice coming out small and broken. "Why did you send me away?"

"Because I was a fucking coward," he said, and I could hear years of regret in those words. "I, your guardian, in love with you. Because I thought I was protecting you, protecting us, when really I was just—"

He stopped, his whole body going tense, and I felt something wet against my neck.

Oh my god. He was crying.

Arthur Winston, who never showed weakness, who always had everything under control, was actually crying.

"Arthur—" I tried to pull back to see his face, but he held me tighter, like he couldn't stand for me to see him like this.

"I hurt you," he said, his voice completely breaking. "I hurt you so badly, and you trusted me, and I—"

"Stop." I finally managed to pull back enough to grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me, my own tears streaming down even though I still couldn't remember all the details. "Stop, please. I can't—seeing you like this, I just can't—"

My head was pounding now, that familiar pressure building as the memory tried to force its way through whatever wall my brain had put up, and I could feel the edges of it—being sent away, four years of being apart, the devastating loneliness of loving someone who'd pushed me away.

And underneath it all, this bone-deep certainty that he'd done it because he loved me, because he'd been scared and stupid and human.

"I forgive you," I said, even though I couldn't quite remember everything I was forgiving. "Whatever you did, whatever happened, I forgive you. Because I love you, and you love me, and that's literally all that matters."

He kissed me then, desperate and intense and almost violent, his hands on my face.

When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I stayed close, my hands sliding down to his chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms.

The shift from that raw emotion to this—this heat, this need—felt natural somehow. We'd just torn ourselves open, and now I needed to feel alive again, needed to feel connected to him in the most basic, fundamental way.

My fingers found the buttons of his shirt.

"Ceci—" His voice was strained, and his hands caught my wrists, stopping me. "Baby, you're not—your body isn't ready for this yet."

"My body is totally fine," I said, frustration bleeding into my voice. "And I want—I need—"

I stopped, everything suddenly clicking in a way that made my stomach drop. "Oh my god. After the engagement party. We were supposed to—you promised me that once my period was over, we could—"

My face went hot as the memory came back, fragmented but clear enough. We'd been planning it, waiting, and I'd been so excited.

I shifted slightly, and felt him hard beneath me, and suddenly my brain just short-circuited completely.

"Arthur." My voice came out all breathy. "You want me too. I can literally feel it."

"Of course I want you," he said, his voice strained, jaw tight. "I always want you. But that doesn't mean we should—"

"Please." I kissed him again, rolling my hips just a little, and felt him groan against my mouth. "Please, Arthur. I need this. I need you."