CHAPTER 132:Yours, Forever
CHAPTER 132:Yours, Forever
ADAM
Maybe I rushed things.
I stared out the window, watching the shadows stretch across the floor of her office. The weight in my chest wasn’t from regret but from the fear that I’d asked too much of her, too soon. Emmanuelle wasn’t like me. She was human. She belonged to a world of dreams, laughter, deadlines, and sunlit mornings. Mine… was nothing like that.
How could I ask her to let all that go?
She didn’t deserve this.
To stand at the edge of two worlds mine and hers with no map, no anchor. Caught between who she was and who I wanted her to become for me.
No, who I needed her to become.
I should’ve been patient. Let her find her footing. Let her breathe.
But I was drowning in want. And desperation doesn’t wait.
Across the room, she sat behind her desk like a shadow of herself hands clenched tight in her lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Her shoulders curled in, like she was trying to make herself smaller. Like the weight of everything I’d said was pressing her into the chair.
Still so beautiful, even when torn apart.
Especially then.
I crossed the space between us on quiet steps. She didn’t move, but her lashes fluttered when I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Soft. Silky. Familiar.
She didn’t flinch. But she didn’t meet my eyes either.
I didn’t deserve her gaze right now.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I murmured, my voice rough at the edges. My lips found her forehead barely a touch, just a ghost of warmth. “Let’s forget it. Just… forget I ever said it.”
Her breath caught, shallow and unsteady. I felt it how close she was to breaking. How close I was.
“I know you’re hurting,” I added, almost choking on the words. “I’m sorry.”
I stepped back before I changed my mind.
Before she could ask me to stay.
Because if she did, I wouldn’t be strong enough to walk away.
The door clicked softly behind me. The sound echoed in my chest like the slamming of something final.
And then came the ache.
That quiet, merciless ache that settled in my bones every time I looked at her and remembered she was mine.
But not yet.
EMMANUELLE
I stared at the door long after it closed.
Adam’s scent still lingered woodsmoke and storm, danger and safety all at once. My heart pounded, each beat louder than the last. He said I had a choice, and I believed him. But what kind of choice was this?
Return to my quiet, predictable life or walk headfirst into a world I didn’t understand, all for a man who made me feel things I couldn’t explain.
I tried to work, but my focus was gone.
The screen blurred. The clock ticked. My hands trembled.
So, I grabbed my keys and left.
But I didn’t drive home.
Instead, I followed the winding road toward the woods toward him.
By the time I pulled over near the path to his house, the sun had dipped below the trees, casting everything in twilight. The forest loomed ahead, dense and alive. I didn’t care. I needed to see him.
The silence of the woods was broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath my shoes. My heart thudded louder with every step until I stood in front of his wooden door. I knocked once.
He opened it within seconds, shirtless, his hair slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes widened at the sight of me.
“Emmanuelle?”
I opened my mouth then closed it. I had no plan, no excuse.
“I… don’t know why I’m here,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “I just didn’t want to leave you.”
He stepped aside, holding the door open. “Come in.”
I walked inside, the warmth of his cabin wrapping around me like a blanket.
“It’s late,” he said, closing the door gently. “Why didn’t you go home?”
“I couldn’t.” I looked up at him. “I tried. But I kept thinking about you… about what you said.”
“You know it’s dangerous out here at night,” Adam started, his voice low, gravelly.
But I didn’t let him finish.
I moved.
One hand gripped the front of his shirt, fingers fisting the soft fabric. The other slid up to the back of his neck. I pulled him down, closing the distance between us like a tide rising too fast.