The sunlight slipped lazily through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite, brushing across Ciara's face and coaxing her awake. She blinked, adjusting to the soft glow, and noticed Will still asleep in the chair by the balcony, his silhouette outlined against the city skyline.
For a moment, she just watched him—the way his hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers slightly curled, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Morning, Mr. Billionaire," she whispered softly, nudging him gently with her shoulder.
Will stirred, blinking open his eyes. "Morning," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "Finally awake?"
"I could ask you the same," Ciara teased, stretching her arms above her head. "You've been hoarding sleep like it's treasure."
He smirked, brushing a hand through his hair. "Someone has to keep up with you. You're… relentless in the morning." His eyes softened as he looked at her. "And beautiful. I swear, every angle I see, every light that falls… it just reminds me that I'm the luckiest man alive."
Ciara felt heat rise to her cheeks. "You're full of yourself."
"Maybe," he admitted, stepping closer. "But only a little. Mostly, I'm honest." He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. The warmth of his touch made her heart skip.
"Will," she murmured, "can we… talk?"
"Of course," he said immediately, concern knitting his brow. "About what?"
Ciara hesitated, looking down at their clasped hands. "About us. Before the wedding… and everything after. I just… I need to understand you better."
Will's expression softened, and he sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside him. "Sit with me. I want to hear everything."
She sat, and silence stretched for a heartbeat before he spoke again, quieter this time. "Do you remember that party last year?"
Ciara's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "The truth or dare game?"
"Yes," Will said, voice catching slightly. "I was an idiot that night."
"You embarrassed me," she said bluntly, though the memory made her heart ache in a familiar, bittersweet way. "You made me do that… dare… in front of everyone. I was so humiliated."
Will reached out, brushing her hair gently behind her ear. "I know. And I've regretted it every day since. I hurt you that night, Ciara. I didn't mean to—I just… I didn't know how to handle my feelings. I liked you, you see, and I was afraid you'd laugh at me if I admitted it. So I did the opposite. I teased. I embarrassed. And I hurt you."
Her eyes softened, the sting of the memory mingling with something warmer. "You really liked me?"
"I did," he said firmly, meeting her gaze. "Before the wedding. Before any of this. Before I even knew what to do with my own feelings. I've liked you for a long time, Ciara. And I… I still do."
Ciara's throat tightened. She remembered the nights she had spent thinking about him, replaying the smallest gestures—the way he had steadied her when she tripped in the café, the way he always remembered the tiniest details about her. She had wanted him long before he had been "hers" officially.
"I liked you too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was scared… scared that you didn't feel the same. And I didn't want to ruin our… whatever this was."
He leaned closer, his forehead brushing hers. "You didn't ruin anything. You made me realize that feelings aren't always easy to understand. But I want you to know now—every hesitation, every moment of doubt. I've thought about you constantly. I've wanted to hold you, to protect you, to make you happy in ways I didn't know how to express before."
Ciara's heart pounded, and she found herself tracing the line of his jaw with a fingertip. "Will… you don't know how happy it makes me to hear that. To finally hear you say it."
He smiled softly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles. "I've waited a long time for this. And now that it's real… now that we're here… I want every moment with you to matter. I want to show you—really show you—how much you mean to me."
Her lips curved into a tentative smile. "Even with all your secrets?"
He hesitated, his expression shadowed for the briefest moment. "Even with my secrets. There's… a lot about my life, about me, that you don't know yet. And it's not because I don't trust you—far from it. I just want to protect you. Some of it… isn't safe for you. Not yet."
Ciara swallowed hard. "I trust you, Will. I want to trust you fully. Even if it's hard."
He cupped her face with both hands, his eyes locking on hers. "Good. Because I can't do this without you. You're my anchor, Ciara. And I don't just like you—I care for you, deeply. More than I've ever cared for anyone. You're the only person who makes me feel… alive, in a way I never thought possible."
Her chest tightened, emotions swirling. "Will… I've dreamed about this—us—for so long. And now that it's real… it scares me. But I've never felt anything like it. Not even close."
He leaned in slowly, giving her the choice. When she didn't pull away, he kissed her, soft and lingering, like he was trying to memorize every curve of her lips. The kiss carried all the affection he had bottled up for years, and Ciara felt herself melting into him, the lingering fear replaced by warmth and connection.
When they pulled apart, breathless, he whispered, "You're mine, Ciara. Not just today… not just in name. In ways that matter. In ways no one else will ever know."
She smiled, tears brimming. "And you're mine too, Will. Always."
For a moment, the world outside their suite didn't exist. There was only the two of them—the city lights, the soft sunlight, and the quiet promise of love finally spoken aloud.
Then, as if reminding them that reality never waits, Will's phone buzzed sharply on the nightstand. He frowned, checking it. Ciara noticed the subtle tightening of his jaw.
"Everything okay?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.
He looked at her, his smile faltering just slightly. "Yes… mostly. Just… some things from work. People who won't leave us alone. Don't worry about it."
But Ciara could see the shadow of tension behind his eyes, the hint that danger—or secrets—still lingered. And though she wanted to savor the warmth of this morning, a small chill ran down her spine, reminding her that love, no matter how intense, often comes tangled with uncertainty.
Will kissed her forehead, a silent promise that he would protect her. "Whatever comes," he whispered, "we'll face it together."
Ciara nodded, pressing her hand to his chest. "Together," she echoed.
And outside the suite, the city continued to hum, indifferent to the quiet confessions and tender promises that had just been exchanged, waiting for the next
twist in a story that had only just begun.