"You win the game, Asher." I said, my hand over his on the chessboard. "But what is the prize?"
His eyes darkened immediately, the playful glint was replaced by something more intense.
He turned his hand under mine, our palms pressing together, and slowly he intertwined our fingers.
"The prize." He said. "Is complicated."
His thumb traced my wrist trying to find my racing pulse.
"Because what I want isn't something I can take." He continued. "It's something you have to give."
My breath caught.
"And what is it you want?"
He looked in my eyes and I saw desire, hope, fear, everything mixed together in them which I had never seen in his eyes before.
"Everything." He whispered. "I want everything, Rysa."
He stood, pulling me to my feet with him, our hands were still intertwined. For a few minutes, he didn't speak. He didn't move towards the bedroom or pull me close or do any of the things I'd expected. He simply looked at me.
"Asher." I whispered, not sure what I was asking for.
He raised our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
"Come with me." He said.
He led me not towards the bedroom, as I'd expected, but to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Shanghai. The city sparkled beneath us.
We'd stood at these windows before, separately, looking out at the view without really seeing it. But now, Asher positioned me directly in front of the glass, then stepped behind me.
His front body was pressed to my back, it was solid and warm. His arms wrapped around my waist, crossing over my stomach, holding me gently but securely against him.
He rested his chin on the top of my head, and I felt him exhale slowly, like he was releasing tension he'd been carrying for a long time. We stood like that for a moment, just breathing together, looking out at the city.
"The prize." He murmured against my hair. "is this." His arms tightened around me.
"You not afraid, not hesitant, not performing or hiding or trying to be what you think I need. Just here with me. I've spent two years with a beautiful stranger in my home. Someone who smiled at the right times and wore the right clothes and never challenged me or questioned me or showed me who she actually was."
His lips brushed the top of my head.
"And then, three days ago, you looked at me with fire instead of compliance." One of his hands moved from my waist to cover my hand where it rested on the glass.
"That's the prize I want." He whispered. "The woman who's brilliant and cunning and not afraid to put me in check. The one who dreams about jewellery design but chose finance to prove a point. The one who's standing here right now, letting me hold her while we figure out what the hell we're doing."
I leaned back to him, feeling the two years of resistance and self protection melting away.
This wasn't like the kiss from two days ago that had been followed by abandonment.
This was different. This felt mutual rather than one sided.
"I'm still scared." I admitted.
"So am I. That probably means this is actually real and truly matters."
Slowly, he turned me in his arms so we faced each other. The city lights created a halo behind him, but I could still see his face clearly. His hands came up to hold my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones.
"Rysa."
And then his mouth found mine. This kiss was different from the previous one. That one had been possessive, full of two years of suppressed tension finally exploding.
This was deep, his lips moved against mine with intensity. It was not demanding, but asking, not taking, but offering.
His tongue traced my lower lip, and when I opened for him, the kiss deepened but maintained the tenderness that was unraveling me completely.
His one hand was cupping my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. The other slid to my back, pulling me closer but gently, like I was something precious that might break if handled wrong.
I melted, my hands fisted in his shirt, then slided up to wrap around his neck. The kiss turned hotter, but it never lost the tenderness that made it feel like a real connection. It was like we were finally finding each other after the two years of distance.
His mouth left mine to kiss my jaw, my neck, the spot below my ear that made me shiver.
"Rysa." He breathed against my skin. "What are you doing to me?"
"The same thing you're doing to me."
He pulled back enough to look at me, and what I saw in his eyes made my heart stutter. There was desire in his eyes but with that there was affection in them, something I didn't know Asher was capable of having.
We both were breathing hard, he cupped my face in his hands again. His thumbs stroked my cheeks again.
"No more rules. No more pretending. No more performing for each other or hiding who we actually are." His forehead touched mine.
"Just us. Messy and complicated and probably going to make mistakes but real."
"Real." I repeated.
And then, suddenly, he swept me into his arms.
I made a sound in surprise, my arms automatically wrapping around his neck for balance.
He carried me towards the bedroom. The formal dining room with its candles and chess game was left behind us. The hallway passed in a blur. I looked back over his shoulder and caught a final glimpse of the city through the living room windows.
The bedroom door closed behind us with a soft click. And for the first time in the two years of marriage, we were about to share the bed not because of duty or performance or rules. But because we'd both finally stopped fighting what we actually wanted.
Asher set me down gently beside the bed, his hands immediately coming back to cup my face.
"Last chance to change your mind. To go back to to professional boundaries and the walls we've built."
I looked at him. He was the man who'd challenged me, protected me, terrified me and made me feel seen all at once.
"I don't want to." I whispered. "Not anymore."
His eyes darkened, and a smile spread across his face. It was genuine, and warm.
"Neither do I."
And as he kissed me again, deeper this time, pulling me close as we tumbled onto the bed together, I realized something.
The game was over. We'd both won. And the prize was exactly what we'd both been too afraid to ask for. Each other.
Whatever happened next, whether we succeeded or failed, whether this was the beginning of something beautiful or the most complicated mistake we'd ever made, at least it would be ours and it was absolutely worth the risk.