The Billionaire's Offer

Chapter 18

He just said it.

The three words I've been craving to hear.

My body presses against the softness of the bed, and my breath catches in my throat. The room is bathed in the muted glow of the moon, and the quiet murmurs of the city outside seem to fade away. The weight of everything we've been through lingers in the air.

"I love you so much," he says again, his voice a gentle reassurance, but also a reminder of the fractures we're trying to mend.

There's a moment of hesitation, a heartbeat where I'm suspended between the vulnerability of his admission and the walls we've built around ourselves.

But then, his fingers find mine. A silent plea, a connection that goes beyond our unspoken doubts. His touch is warm, a lifeline in the uncertainty that surrounds us.

"I love you too," the words spill from my lips before I can hold them back.

His eyes soften, and his chest expands on a deep breath. "But you don't trust me."

A pang of guilt twists inside me. It's not that I don't want to trust him. It's just that trust is a fragile thing, shattered by the storm of my past. I want to let him in, to bridge the gap between us, but the scars from my relationship with Zack still pulse beneath the surface.

"I want to trust you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, it's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

His brow furrows in confusion, and I hate the hurt in his eyes. "What does that mean?" he asks.

The words hang in the air, a heavy silence stretching between us. I take a deep breath, steeling myself to open up. But the words get stuck in my throat, trapped by the fear of reliving those painful memories.

Deep down, I know it's not fair to Asher. Years of therapy have taught me that talking is an important tool in a relationship. But the words I lost somewhere inside me, and I'm not ready to show Asher all the ugly I've been through.

I can't show him how weak I was at some point in my life.

I can't.

"I'm broken, Asher," I say, my gaze dropping to our entwined hands. "I'm not the same Emily you met years ago."

He doesn't speak for a moment, and when he does, his voice is a gentle murmur. "I love the person you are now."

"The person I am now is jealous, insecure, and a little broken inside." I pause, searching for the right words. "I saw those pictures, and... I need you to tell me what happened."

His expression shifts, disappointment clouding his features. "I already told you I met her when we were both leaving the same restaurant, and I didn't want to be rude when she invited me for a drink."

"Yeah..."

"Right." He nods, his throat bobbing. "Clare and I had an on-and-off relationship for years. But when you and I found our way back to each other, I realized what I was missing. I remembered what a real connection felt like. She and I were never serious, just a convenient arrangement when we happened to be in the same place. That's why those pictures don't mean anything, Em."

"Do you... did you love her?" The question slips out, and I instantly regret asking.

His gaze meets mine, and I see sincerity in his eyes. "I've only loved one woman in my life, and she's lying right here in front of me."

It's the answer I wanted to hear, but the hurt lingers. The acknowledgment that he once had a connection, no matter how casual with Clare gnaws at the edges of my insecurities.