Chapter 23 Interrupted
Chapter 23
Coralyn’s POV
When I come out of the bathroom, the room feels different. It felt heavier, like the air itself knows something has shifted and hasn’t decided yet whether to settle or crack apart.
Orion is still there.
He hasn’t moved far. He’s standing near the window now, one hand braced against the glass, his shoulders tense beneath his shirt. He turns the moment he hears my footsteps, his eyes finding me immediately, like he’d been waiting for that sound.
For a second, neither of us speaks.
The silence isn’t awkward, exactly. It’s careful. The kind that comes after something raw, when both people are deciding which parts of themselves they’re willing to leave exposed.
“I’m okay,” I say softly, because I need him to hear it from me and not imagine the worst.
His shoulders ease just a little. “I know,” he replies. “I just wanted to make sure.”
I nod, clutching the towel tighter around myself even though I’m already dressed. The embarrassment is still there, warm and uncomfortable in my chest, but it’s tangled with something else now. Honesty, relief and maybe even courage.
I take a few steps into the room, then stop. “About earlier,” I begin, then pause. The words I’d practiced in my head suddenly feel wrong and too apologetic.
Orion shakes his head slowly. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I want to,” I say anyway. “Not because I’m ashamed. Just… because I don’t want things left hanging between us.”
That gets his full attention. He turns fully toward me now, no distance in his posture, no wall in his eyes.
“I wanted you,” I said quietly. “I still do. That hasn’t changed just because things got messy.”
His jaw tightens, not with anger but restraint.
“You think I don’t know that?”
I swallow. “Then tell me.”
He exhales slowly and steps closer. Not all the way. Just enough that I can feel the warmth of him, that familiar gravity pulling me in without touching me yet.
“I’ve wanted you since the plane,” he says. “Since you looked at Zilla like she mattered. Since you didn’t treat either of us as an inconvenience.”
My chest tightens at the honesty in his voice.
“I’ve been holding back,” he continues, “because I don’t want to be another man who takes when someone is vulnerable. And I don’t want to rush something that actually means something to me.”
The words land gently but firmly, settling into places inside me that have been bruised for a long time.
“I don’t need you to be perfect,” I say. “I just need you to say something.”
His hand lifts slowly, like he’s giving me time to pull away if I want to. When I don’t, his fingers rest at my waist, warm and steady, not possessive.
My hands find his chest without thinking, the solid rise and fall of his breathing grounding me. He leans down, his forehead resting against mine, and for a moment we stay like that, breathing the same air, sharing the same fragile pause.
When he kisses me, it’s soft.
He didn’t rush it. Just a careful press of his lips against mine, like he’s asking rather than taking. I kiss him back before doubt can creep in, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
The kiss deepens slowly, naturally. His hand slides to my lower back, anchoring me there. I feel the quiet strength in the way he holds me, the way he stays present instead of losing himself.
This doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels like a beginning.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “We’re still taking it slow,” I whisper.
A faint smile touches his mouth. “Yes.”
Another kiss follows, a little surer this time, his thumb brushing my side in a way that makes my breath hitch. I’m aware of everything at once, the warmth of his body, the quiet room, the night pressing in around us like it’s holding its breath too.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
Just enough to break the moment clean in half.
Orion stiffens instantly. I step back without thinking, my heart jumping as reality rushes back in.
“I’ll get it,” he says, already moving.
When he opens the door, the hallway light spills in, and Zilla is standing there.
She looks sleepy, her hair slightly messy, clutching her stuffed bunny against her chest. Beside her is the woman she stayed with for the evening, her expression apologetic but gentle.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman says quietly. “She asked to come back. She wouldn’t settle, no matter what we tried.”
Zilla’s eyes light up the moment she sees Orion. “Daddy.”
He crouches immediately, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing. “Hey, starshine,” he murmurs. “You okay?”
She nods, already curling into his chest, her small fingers gripping his shirt.
I watch the shift happen in real time. The tension drains from his body, replaced by something softer and fiercer all at once. A father and a protector.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” the woman says again.
“You didn’t,” Orion replies firmly. “Thank you for bringing her back.”
After she leaves, the room feels smaller somehow, reshaped around the three of us.
Zilla’s eyes drift to me, sleepy but curious. “You’re back,” she says.
“I am,” I reply, crouching down so I’m at her level. “Did you have fun?”
She nods, then reaches out, her small hand brushing my arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Something settles in my chest at that simple gesture.
Orion looks at me then, something unspoken passing between us. The romance hasn’t disappeared. It’s just… shifted. Expanded.
“I think tonight is done,” he says quietly, brushing Zilla’s hair back from her face.
I nod, surprised by the lack of disappointment I feel. “Yeah. I think that’s okay.”
As he carries her toward the bedroom, I follow a step behind, aware of how close I came to something I wasn’t sure I was ready for and how right it still felt.
Later, when the lights are dim and Zilla is asleep, Orion walks me to the door.
“This isn’t over,” he says softly.
“I know,” I replied.
Because some moments don’t end. They just wait.