Noah
The moment her lips left mine, she let out the smallest breath—like kissing me had held her together, and stopped threatening to break her again.
"You can come work for me you know" I said pulling back from her mouth.
She gazed at me smiling from ear to ear, "no Noah, I really love my job at Shelby, it's one of my accomplishments"
Another thing I love about her is her attitude to work, her dedication is out of this world.
My poor sweet baby girl, I hated that this happened to her and her job, all because me.
I held her face in mine "My PR team is all over it, I'll find out who did this Amelia, I promise you"
"Okay" she whispered, hugging me.
I rested my forehead against hers, my thumb sweeping over her cheek, catching the tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"Hey," I whispered. "I've got you. I'm right here."
Her lashes fluttered, eyes glassy and exhausted.
She nodded, but it wasn't conviction. It was survival.
I guided her back against the couch, my hand sliding to her waist to steady her.
"You don't have to be strong right now," I murmured.
Her jaw trembled.
"Then I won't," she choked out.
And she folded into me again.
I wrapped both arms around her this time, pulling her fully into my chest. I didn't care about her tears soaking my shirt. I didn't care about anything except the way she felt—small and trembling and overwhelmed.
I held her until her breathing softened, until her fingers unclenched from my shirt, until she melted into my side like her whole body had given in to the exhaustion she'd been fighting alone.
She finally whispered, voice raw, "I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Like what?" I brushed her hair back.
"Human? Hurt? Honest?"
She swallowed hard, staring at her hands in her lap.
"Like someone whose life is falling apart."
I cupped her face, firm enough that she had to meet my eyes.
"Your life is not falling apart," I said. "It's being shaken. And it's temporary. You're not alone in this, Amelia. Not anymore."
Her throat tightened visibly.
That look—god, that look could ruin me.
I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, then to her temple.
"I'm staying," I said.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Noah, you don't have to—"
"I'm staying," I repeated, voice low and absolute. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."
She wanted to protest. I saw it in the way her mouth parted.
But she didn't.
Instead, she nodded once—small, vulnerable, grateful.
I loosened my tie and set it aside, rolling up my sleeves. "Come on," I murmured. "Let's get you out of your head."
I pulled her toward the kitchen, poured her water, and made her sip it slowly.
Sat with her on the couch again.
Let her lean her head on my shoulder.
Ran gentle circles along her back every time her breath hitched.
Minutes passed like that—quiet, steady, grounding.
She eventually whispered, almost embarrassed, "Thank you."
I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
"There's nothing to thank me for."
A soft knock hit the door.
She tensed immediately.
"It's probably Dawn," she said shakily. "I asked her to come by"
She opened the door, and Dawn's eyes widened the moment she saw me on the couch.
"Oh," Dawn blinked. "He's… actually here."
"Nice to see you too, Dawn," I said dryly.
She gawked. "I mean—I didn't think you'd really come. Most men disappear when things get messy."
I met Amelia's eyes.
"I'm not most men," I said, and she looked away quickly, cheeks warming.
Dawn stepped inside, arms full of takeaway bags.
"Food. Alcohol. Emotional support. Pick your poison."
Amelia laughed weakly. The first real laugh of the evening.
It loosened something tight in my chest.
Dawn shot me an evaluating look. "She's not sleeping alone tonight."
"I already said I'm staying," I replied.
"Good," Dawn said, shrugging off her coat. "Then you can help me keep her from spiraling."
Amelia groaned. "I am right here."
"You're also falling apart," Dawn said. "Let us help."
She sat between us, passing Amelia the food, brushing curls out of Amelia's face, muttering curses about bloggers and idiotic men from her legal department.
We stayed like that talking, eating in silence, sitting close until Amelia's eyes grew heavy and her head slipped to my shoulder again.
Dawn noticed and stood quietly.
"I'll leave you two. She needs rest."
She touched Amelia's arm. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"
Amelia nodded sleepily.
I walked Dawn to the door.
She turned to me, her expression serious.
"She likes you," Dawn said softly. "really likes you. Don't make her regret it."
"I don't plan to," I promised.
She studied me a second longer, then nodded and slipped out.
I locked the door and went back to the couch, where Amelia sat curled up in my sweater—when had she taken it?—looking small and tired and unfairly beautiful.
I carried her in one swift motion to her bedroom, it looked cozier than her living room, lots of plants and flowers, I set her down on the bed, making a creaky sound and put a blanket over her, I didn't come with a night wear or pyjamas so I began removing my shirt and my pants.
I settled down beside her, my frame enveloping the whole bed and she leaned into me instantly, eyes closing.
"Stay," she whispered into my chest, the word barely audible.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Her breathing evened out, slow and steady, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her through the storm she didn't deserve.
For the first time all day, her body finally relaxed.
And for the first time all day, I felt calm too.
Because she was in my arms.
And that was where she was always meant to be.
The next morning..
Something warm and soft pressed against my chest.
For a moment I didn't move, letting myself register it—the quiet rise and fall of her breath, the faint scent of her shampoo, her fingers curled in my shirt like she'd been holding onto me even in her sleep.
Amelia.
Still tucked against me on the couch, her cheek resting just over my heart.
I exhaled slowly.
This… felt right.
Too right.
I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, letting my thumb graze her temple. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer, and I swear, it almost killed me.
I'd planned to let her rest while I made us breakfast, but she was holding onto me like I was keeping her together.
So I stayed.
She murmured something in her sleep, and clung to me tighter, I swear I felt my dick twitch, no this isn't the time for that right now.
A soft vibration broke the silence.
Her phone.
It was on the coffee table, screen lighting up with a preview banner.
Private Number: We need to talk, Amelia. You can't keep avoiding me.
My jaw clenched instantly.
Who the fuck is that?
Another vibration.
Private Number: I know you're home. Don't make this harder.
The possessiveness in those words twisted something sharp inside me.
My fingers curled into fists before I forced them relaxed.
I leaned forward carefully, reading the screen without touching it.
Another message.
Private Number: I'm coming by later. We're not done.
My pulse spiked.
I swallowed down the instinct that rose in my chest—the one that said over my dead body.
But this wasn't the time or the place for this.
I carefully got out of bed, without waking Amelia and leaned over the coffee table to memorize the number, I whipped out my phone and sent it to my security detail asking for some form of identification and answer to these texts.
The bastard kept texting
Private number: I saw the blogs Amelia, you can't hide behind him.
My jaw flexed, muscle ticking.
I took a slow breath.
Ignored it.
Focused on her.
I wasn't going to let this man drag her back into whatever hell she'd crawled out of.
She shifted in her sleep, her fingers tightening in my shirt again, like she sensed the shift in my body.
"Hey…" I murmured at her forehead, softening instantly. "Still sleeping?"
She hummed faintly, eyes fluttering without opening.
Her voice was barely there.
"Stay."
"I am," I whispered. "I'm right here."
I let her fall back into deep sleep, but my eyes drifted to the phone again.
There has to be some explanation for this though.
Obviously she has been avoiding this person for a while, and he or she has come back into her life seeking some sort of retribution or reconciliation.
I had baggage from my last relationship, hell I have had my own fair share of women and some didn't end well, Evelyn broke me, it took me years to pick back the broken pieces, but I didn't want a repeat of that.
Can I trust Amelia with my heart?
Because the minute she woke up,
the moment she opened her eyes—
I'd ask her who the hell that really was.