Chapter Fifteen: One Year Ends

The day began like any other, but Lia Morgan felt the weight of every tick of the clock pressing into her chest. The sun poured through the windows of the penthouse apartment she had come to know so well, gilding the marble floors in gold. But nothing felt warm.

Not when today marked one year.

Exactly one year since she had signed that ridiculous, binding contract with Damien Cross. One year since they had faked a marriage. One year since she had walked into his world of boardrooms, tailored suits, secrets, and controlled emotions.

And one year since she had fallen in love with him.

She stood at the window, arms crossed, staring at the skyline. Behind her, the apartment was quiet. Damien had left early, or maybe he was avoiding the gravity of today. Either way, his absence was louder than any conversation they could've had.

Gloria entered softly, carrying a cup of Lia's favorite jasmine tea. The older woman said nothing, only offered a sympathetic glance and left the cup on the side table. Lia managed a weak smile in return.

Her thoughts spiraled. When they started, she couldn't even stand the man. Damien had been cold, calculated, ruthless. A man whose eyes gave nothing away. And yet, day by day, moment by moment, she had seen something deeper.

He had defended her.

Held her when she cried about her mother's illness.

Cooked her scrambled eggs once when she was sick and insisted he couldn't boil water.

And last night, he'd told her he loved her. Words she'd been dying to hear, and yet now they rang in her mind with unbearable confusion.

Because today, none of it mattered.

The contract was over.

Damien's fingers tapped the steering wheel as his car idled at the curb outside his building. He hadn't gone to the office. He hadn't gone anywhere, really. Just drove around for hours until the sun had reached its peak.

He was terrified.

Terrified that he had ruined everything.

He'd never been good at feelings. Business, yes. Strategy, absolutely. But emotions? Vulnerability? That had always been a no-go zone. Except Lia had cracked through. She had seen past the walls he built. Past the Damien Cross everyone knew, and into the version of himself even he didn't recognize.

And now he didn't know how to hold onto her.

The contract was her safety net. If she left now, he couldn't stop her.

His phone buzzed. A message from Ethan.

"Don't overthink this. Go home. Talk to her."

Easier said than done.

He finally stepped out and entered the building, heart pounding like he was walking into a boardroom unprepared. But this wasn't business. This was his life.

And she was waiting.

Lia had started packing.

Not because she wanted to leave, but because she didn't know what else to do. The silence in the apartment made her chest ache. She'd folded her favorite cardigan and placed it into the suitcase when the door clicked open.

Her breath caught.

Damien stood at the threshold, dressed in black slacks and a navy button-down, no tie. His sleeves were rolled up. He looked like the man she had fallen for, the man she had fought, cried over, kissed, and shared her heart with.

"You're packing," he said softly.

"What did you expect me to do?" Her voice didn't carry anger, just hurt.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "I expected you to yell at me, maybe. Or throw something."

She gave a dry laugh. "I considered it."

A long pause stretched between them.

"So this is it?" he asked. "You're just going to walk away?"

Lia blinked hard. "I don't want to. But this was never meant to last. We both know that."

Damien crossed the room, stopping a foot away from her. "Lia, I don't care about the contract anymore. I don't care how this started. I care about how it ends. With you. With us."

Her eyes searched his. There was vulnerability in them now, the kind she used to beg for and never got. "You say that like you mean it. But how do I trust that it's real, Damien? That it's not obligation or guilt or some twisted sense of control?"

"Because when you weren't here this morning, I couldn't breathe," he said, voice hoarse. "Because I drove around like a maniac for hours trying to figure out how to fix this. Because I am a complete mess without you, and I don't want to be that man anymore."

Lia's lip trembled.

"You broke through every wall I ever built. You made me feel things I never thought I was capable of. And now, the only thing I want is to be with you, not because of a deal, but because I'm in love with you. Completely. Helplessly."

He stepped closer, placing a hand over hers.

"Stay. Not because you signed something a year ago. But because you want to."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I do want to."

Silence fell again, but this time, it was different. Safe. Honest.

"Then don't pack. Not yet," he said, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "Let's forget the contract ever existed. Let's start over."

Lia nodded slowly. "Okay. But this time, it has to be real. No more lies. No more secrets."

"No more masks," he promised.

That evening, they didn't go out. No fancy dinners or champagne toasts. Just Chinese takeout on the floor of the living room, their feet tangled together under the coffee table.

Gloria brought them extra spring rolls and pretended not to notice how different the atmosphere was.

Damien reached for Lia's hand as she giggled over a fortune cookie that read, "A great love is ahead."

He smiled. "Looks like it knows something we don't."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Or maybe it knows exactly what we're finally ready to admit."

The contract had ended.

But their love was just beginning.