Chapter 274

Ophelia’s POV

My phone rang just as I mentioned Ivy in front of Finnegan. Edward's name flashed across the screen.

"Ophelia, are you working today?" His warm voice filled the line.

"Yes, I'm covering for Jasmine. She's sick," I replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Why do you ask?"

"I just finished a conference at your hotel. I thought maybe we could see each other if you're not too busy?"

I glanced at my watch. My shift would end soon. "I can meet you in the lobby in about thirty minutes."

"Great! I'll wait for you there."

After eating with Finnegan and Riley, I finally made y way to the lobby, where I spotted Edward immediately. He stood tall among the crowd of business travelers, clutching something behind his back. As I approached, he revealed a bouquet of deep red roses.

"Edward! What's this?" I exclaimed, taking the flowers.

"Just something I picked up for you," he said with a casual shrug that didn't quite mask his intentions.

I buried my nose in the petals, inhaling their sweet fragrance. "This is the first time I've received roses since..." My voice trailed off. Since Finnegan. Since I thought he had died.

Just as I was admiring the flowers, movement caught my eye. The elevator doors opened, and there he was—Finnegan in his wheelchair, with Vivian pushing him across the lobby. Our eyes met for a brief, electric moment before his hardened into cold indifference.

A sudden boldness seized me. Why should I be the only one suffering? Without overthinking, I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around Edward's neck and pressed my lips firmly against his. He froze momentarily in surprise before responding with unexpected passion, his arms encircling my waist as he deepened the kiss.

The public display was unlike me, but something rebellious had awakened inside. Let Finnegan see. Let him know I could move on too. Edward, not one to waste such a rare opportunity, kissed me with an intensity that left me slightly breathless when we finally pulled apart.

"That was... unexpected," Edward whispered, his eyes questioning but delighted.

I glanced toward the elevators, catching the rigid set of Finnegan's shoulders as Vivian wheeled him toward the hotel entrance. Good. Let him feel something, anything—even if it was just jealousy.

"I just happened to drive past a flower shop," Edward offered with an unconvincing nonchalance.

I laughed, feeling a genuine lightness I hadn't experienced in weeks. "Edward, you're a terrible liar. Your office is nowhere near any flower shops."

He grinned, caught in his white lie. "You got me. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, actually. Want to try the hotel restaurant? I get an employee discount."

"The steakhouse here is excellent," Edward suggested. "I could go for a filet mignon, and you could relax with some coffee."

"Let me treat you," I insisted. "As my thank-you for your flower."

As we entered the restaurant, we chose a window table overlooking the scene outside, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow across the landscape. Edward ordered his steak, skipping wine since I still had work, while I settled for a latte. I deliberately chose to sit closer to him than necessary, occasionally letting my hand rest on his arm as we talked.

"You seem different today," Edward noted, not objecting when I playfully adjusted his tie.

"Different how?" I asked innocently, though I knew exactly what I was doing. Every touch, every laugh, every shared glance was carefully calculated to appear natural yet intimate to any observer—particularly one in a wheelchair who might be watching.

"More... affectionate," he replied cautiously, as if afraid speaking it aloud might break the spell.

I shrugged with a teasing smile. "Maybe I'm finally seeing what's been in front of me all along."

"How's life these days? How's Ivy doing?" Edward asked, his eyes reflecting genuine interest, though his hand had now found its way to mine on the table.

I was about to answer when movement near the entrance caught my attention. My heart lurched painfully in my chest. Finnegan—in his wheelchair—was just outside the restaurant, his son Riley beside him sipping from a water bottle.

"Ophelia? Are you okay?" Edward followed my gaze. "Do you know them?"

I quickly averted my eyes, but not before Finnegan's gaze met mine. Something electric passed between us before I looked away.

"He's... just someone I used to know," I managed, my voice unnaturally high. "A former colleague."

"Would you like to say hello?" Edward asked, studying my face with the careful attention of someone who knew me too well.

"No," I said too quickly. "It's been years. We weren't close."

Edward nodded, but I could tell he didn't believe me. I couldn't help stealing glances at Finnegan, noting how pale he looked, how his strong hands now gripped the wheels of his chair. What had happened to him? The questions that had plagued me since our confrontation returned with renewed intensity.

My mind whirled with defiant thoughts. Why should I be the only one trapped in the past? If Finnegan could so easily pretend our history didn't exist—if he could sit there with his child, building a new life while I was left piecing together the shattered remains of mine—why shouldn't I move forward too? Why pine for one stubborn flower when the world was full of possibilities? If he was determined to be heartless, I had no obligation to remain faithful to a memory.

The thought gave me a strange, liberating courage. I leaned closer to Edward, letting my shoulder press against his, my smile growing more genuine.

He speared a piece of steak and held it out to me. "Try this. It's perfectly done."

I shook my head, but he persisted, moving the fork closer to my lips. Reluctantly, I accepted the bite, acutely aware of the intimacy of the gesture. My eyes darted back to Finnegan, who appeared absorbed in reading something on his tablet, completely oblivious to my presence.

The realization stung more than it should have. Why should I care if he noticed me? He'd made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with me. He had a new life now, a child, perhaps a wife somewhere. Yet the irrational part of me—the part that had mourned him for six years—still yearned for even the smallest acknowledgment.

I forced my attention back to Edward, determined to be present with the man who actually wanted me in his life. I laughed more loudly at his jokes, leaned in conspiratorially when he spoke, even fed him a bite of dessert from my spoon when it arrived. Let Finnegan see what he'd given up. Let him witness someone else treasuring what he'd so carelessly discarded.

"You know," I said loudly enough that my voice might carry, "I think this is the most enjoyable lunch I've had in years." I reached across to straighten Edward's collar, my touch lingering longer than necessary. "We should do this more often."

Edward looked surprised but pleased. "I'm free any time you are."

As Vivian approached Finnegan with water and medication, I turned my full attention to Edward, ignoring the hollow ache in my chest.

The past was gone. Finnegan—the real Finnegan, the man I'd loved—was gone, regardless of whether his body still drew breath. It was time I truly accepted that and moved forward, though, I was not sure how long I could continue.