Chapter 31: The Choosing
“What are you saying?” Jordan asked.
Afraid to hope. Afraid to breathe. Afraid this was another dream he’d wake up from alone.
“I’m saying Paris was real,” Martina whispered, taking a step toward him.
“I’m saying I was wrong to run. I’m saying I’ve been miserable for three months because I was with the wrong man. The safe man. The smart choice.”
“When what I really wanted was the complicated man. The man who makes me feel alive. The man who spent five years being blind but is spending the rest of his life learning to see.”
Another step.
“I’m saying I’m taking the foundation position. I’m saying thank you for giving me that opportunity. I’m saying thank you for letting me go even though it destroyed you.”
Another step, until she was close enough to touch.
Close enough that Jordan could smell her perfume. See the tears on her cheeks. Feel the warmth of her presence after three months of cold absence.
“And I’m saying I love you, Jordan Blackwell. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for five years, three months, and ninety-one days.”
“And I don’t want to run anymore. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to be brave enough to choose the man I love.”
“Even if he’s complicated and broken and learning. Because I’m complicated and broken and learning, too.”
“And maybe we can be complicated and broken and learning together.”
Jordan’s hands came up to cup her face.
His thumbs catching her tears. His eyes searching hers for any doubt, any hesitation.
He found none.
“I love you,” he said, his voice rough with three months of unshed emotion.
“I’m so in love with you, it terrifies me. You’re my home, Martina. You’re my peace. You’re my reason for getting up in the morning and my last thought before sleep.”
“You’re everything I didn’t know I needed and everything I can’t live without.”
“And I promise you—I swear to you—that I will spend every day for the rest of my life seeing you. Really seeing you. As my equal. My partner. My love.”
“Never invisible. Never again.”
“Then kiss me,” Martina whispered.
“Kiss me like you did in Paris. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me and let’s stop wasting time.”
Jordan kissed her.
He kissed her like a man who’d been drowning and she was air. He kissed her like he’d waited ninety-one days for this moment and couldn’t wait another second.
He kissed her with five years of regret and three months of longing and a lifetime of love he was finally brave enough to feel.
And Martina kissed him back.
She kissed him like forgiveness. Like coming home. Like second chances and new beginnings and love that was messy and complicated and absolutely worth fighting for.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Jordan pressed his forehead against hers and smiled.
Genuinely smiled for the first time in three months.
“Move in with me,” he said.
“That’s moving fast—”
“I wasted five years, Martina. I’m not wasting another second.”
“Then yes,” she said, laughing through her tears.
“Yes to moving in. Yes to complicated. Yes to messy. Yes to us.”
“Yes to everything.”
And there, in the office where she’d been invisible for five years. Where she’d been undervalued and taken for granted and loved from a distance.
Martina Hayes finally became visible.
Finally became chosen.
Finally became home.
