Chapter 92 What Are We Afraid Of?
Audrey couldn't answer.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and awkward. Her fingers twisted in the sheet.
He waited. Didn't push.
"Audrey." Softer. "I won't be angry if you're scared. I just want to know why."
She took a breath, gathering courage. "You know I don't have anyone but you. No family. No protection." Her voice trembled. "You say you'll always be there. But what if one day you change your mind? What if you decide I'm not part of your life anymore?"
He went still.
She smiled bitterly. "I'd be alone again. And if the world knew I was your wife, and then we..." She couldn't finish.
He understood.
It wasn't about Catherine. It wasn't about public opinion or business consequences. It was about him. About losing him.
He exhaled heavily, then moved closer, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Baby, listen to me."
His voice was quiet. Honest.
"I don't know what the future holds. But I know one thing for certain." He held her gaze. "I'm not leaving you. Not now. Not ever."
She held her breath.
"If I announce our marriage, it won't be because I'm forced to, or to prove something to anyone." His thumb brushed her cheek. "It'll be because I want the world to know you're mine. And I'm yours."
Her eyes glistened.
"So I'm asking again." He stroked her cheek gently. "Do you really not want the world to know? Or are you just afraid of getting hurt?"
She looked at him for a long moment. Tears gathered.
"I just... don't want to be alone."
He pulled her into his arms, holding tight.
"You're not alone. You have me. You have Mom, Dad, Laura, Finn. They all love you."
She clung to him. "Are you sure? You really want everyone to know? The business world is brutal. They could use this against you."
He pulled back slightly, still holding her. "You think I'm afraid of losing my position because I married you?"
She couldn't answer.
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Listen carefully. I'm not a man who can be brought down by a marriage. I built myself long before this. And one more thing..."
His grip tightened.
"I married you not because I care what people think. I married you because I wanted to."
She stared at him. Something in his gaze made her chest warm.
"So stop thinking I'm afraid of losing something because of you." His voice dropped, more intense. "Because I won't let anyone touch or disrespect my wife."
She looked at him—really looked—and saw nothing but certainty.
"That's not fair," she murmured, hitting his chest weakly.
He frowned. "What's not fair?"
She pouted, pretending to be upset. "I was trying to be mad at you."
He laughed softly. "So what should I do? Let you be mad properly?"
She huffed, crossing her arms. "At least don't be so sweet. I can't stay mad when you're like this."
He raised an eyebrow, then leaned closer until their faces were inches apart. "So I'm not allowed to be sweet to my own wife?" His voice dropped to a teasing whisper.
She tried to maintain her annoyed expression, but her cheeks heated. She tried to pull away—his arm tightened around her waist.
"Elliot..." Her protest was weak. She didn't really try to escape.
He smiled. "What? Just making sure you know I'm serious."
She sighed dramatically. "Serious about what? You're just good at sweet talk!"
He rested his forehead against hers, eyes locked on hers. "I'm serious. If I just wanted to play games, I wouldn't have married you."
She swallowed.
Damn it. How was she supposed to stay mad when he looked at her like that?
She pinched his waist. "Fine. But I'm still mad!"
He laughed, then kissed her forehead—long, lingering. "Be mad if it makes you feel better."
She bit her lip, looking down to hide her burning cheeks.
If he kept this up, her defenses would crumble completely.
"You must have had a lot of girlfriends," she muttered, arms still crossed. "You're too smooth."
He chuckled. "I've never dated anyone."
She blinked. "What? I don't believe you."
He smiled, enjoying her shock. "Seriously. You're the first woman I've been serious about."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "So there were non-serious ones?"
He laughed outright at her expression. "I told you—no dating. No women."
She stared at him. "Then how are you so... good at this?"
One eyebrow arched. "Good at what, exactly?"
She froze, realizing how that sounded.
"I didn't mean—that's not what I—"
He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. He leaned closer, caging her beneath him.
"Good at what? Hmm?"
She covered her face with both hands. "Stop teasing me!"
He pulled her hands away gently. "Answer the question, or I'll make sure you can't walk tomorrow."
"Elliot!"
He waited, grinning.
She pouted, face bright red. "Just... you know... forget it!"
He chuckled, then answered casually, "I learned from various sources."
Her brow furrowed. Then her eyes widened. "You watched porn?"
He burst out laughing.
Before she could react, he kissed her again—deeper this time, guiding her back onto the mattress. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, leaving no space between them.
She made a small sound against his mouth, her arms lifting to circle his neck on their own. Her breath tangled with his as the kiss grew more urgent.
When his lips moved to her jaw, then her neck, she arched against him, fingers gripping his shoulders.
"Elliot..." His name came out breathless.
He didn't stop. "Yeah, baby?" He murmured against her heated skin.
She swallowed hard, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. "We... we were just arguing..."
He smiled against her neck. "And this is our reconciliation."
She would have huffed if she could think straight. This man was impossible.
But as his lips found that spot behind her ear, she stopped thinking altogether.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that maybe this was exactly where she belonged.