Sunlight spilled across the suite, brushing against Ciara's skin as she sat by the window, sipping her tea. Will was pacing near the balcony, phone in hand, his jaw tight, eyes flicking over messages that made her stomach twist with unease.
"Will… you've been staring at that thing for hours," she said, her voice soft, coaxing him to look away.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Ciara. It's… complicated. Some things from my world… my family… I didn't want them spilling into this. Into us."
Ciara set her cup down and reached for his hand. "You don't have to protect me from everything. I want to be here. I want to understand."
He paused, meeting her gaze. A faint smile curved his lips, but the tension remained. "Do you remember when we were sixteen?"
Ciara blinked, surprised. "Sixteen? That's… ages ago. Why?"
Will stepped closer, taking her hands into his. "Because that's when I first realized I wanted you—not as a cousin, not as a friend—but more. And I think you knew it too."
Her breath caught. "More? Will…"
He smiled, nostalgic and nervous. "Remember Thanksgiving at your house? The attic?"
Ciara felt a blush rise. The memory was sharp, vivid. "Oh… Will, you—"
He chuckled softly. "We sneaked up there to escape the chaos of your family, and… well, I kissed you."
Her lips curved, though her cheeks burned. "I remember. I… I didn't approve. It felt… wrong. Even though part of me wanted it, I couldn't—family rules, everything."
Will's expression softened, tinged with regret. "I know. And I respected that. But I've never forgotten that moment, Ciara. That kiss. That feeling. I've carried it with me every day since."
She swallowed, emotions swirling. "I've thought about it too. About us. And I was scared… scared of what everyone would say, scared of hurting our family, scared of… falling for you before I was ready."
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "And yet, here we are. Against every expectation, every disapproval, we're together now. I've waited a long time to hold you, to tell you that I like you—really like you—not because it's convenient, not because it's expected, but because it's true."
Tears threatened in Ciara's eyes. "You mean that? Even with the family drama, even with… everything?"
"Even with everything," Will whispered, his forehead resting against hers. "I like you, Ciara. I've liked you for years. And now… I want to spend every day making you feel safe, loved, cherished."
The warmth of his words, the intensity of his gaze, made her heart ache in a good way. She leaned into him, letting her hands rest on his chest. "I like you too, Will. I always have. I was just… afraid."
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Afraid is human. But love… love is worth the risk."
Their lips met in a gentle kiss, slow and tender, a reaffirmation of feelings that had been years in the making. It wasn't just romance—it was the culmination of secret glances, suppressed desire, and childhood memories now blooming into something undeniable.
But the moment was broken by the sharp buzz of Will's phone. He frowned, checking it quickly, his smile faltering. Ciara noticed the shadow that crossed his eyes.
"Will… what is it?" she asked, concerned.
He looked at her, hesitating. "It's… someone from my past. Nothing you need to worry about right now. I can handle it."
Ciara's stomach tightened. "Will… I want to help. Please don't shut me out."
He took a deep breath, trying to mask the tension. "I promise, I'm not shutting you out. But some things… it's complicated. Some people don't want this happiness for us."
Her mind flashed back to family dinners, whispered criticisms, the disapproving glances of relatives who never believed their love could be more than a scandal waiting to happen. They had tolerated it at best, resented it at worst. And yet, here they were—together, married, defying expectations.
She squeezed his hand. "We've survived disapproval before. We can survive anything."
He smiled faintly, leaning in for a brief kiss, though the weight of responsibility and secrecy still lingered. "You're incredible, Ciara.
Stronger than anyone I know. And I… I need you by my side, no matter what comes."
A silence fell over them, heavy with emotion, memory, and the unspoken tension of the unknown. Then, a soft knock echoed from the suite door. Will's eyes sharpened, his protective instincts kicking in.
"I'll get it," he said, moving toward the door. Ciara followed, heart pounding.
Will opened the door slowly—and froze. Outside, a figure stood in the dim hallway, their face hidden in shadow. A slip of paper was pressed into Will's hand. The figure didn't speak, didn't move, and then vanished into the corridor.
Will's eyes flicked to Ciara, tension coiling in his muscles. "This… this is from them," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "From the people I've been trying to keep you safe from."
Ciara's heart skipped a beat
"Will… what does it say?"