The city lights blurred as they descended, but Michael's thoughts were razor sharp. He had crossed a line, but it didn't feel like a transgression; rather, it felt like a promise starting to form. However, Lorna wasn't convinced, and perhaps she had every reason not to be. That night, as he stared out his penthouse's floor-to-ceiling windows with a glass of whiskey still untouched in his hand, Michael realized that words weren't enough because she had heard promises before,from men who broke them, men who used love as leverage.
He had a rare softness to his tailored appearance when he arrived at the Foundation Wellness office the following morning without a tie.
Lorna was there already.
Composed and professional.
Protected.
"Good morning," he uttered slowly.
She hardly gave a nod. "HR's analytics have arrived. We can begin creating the initial level of interventions.
He moved to stand next to her. "I am aware that my remarks from yesterday were... inappropriate. I apologize for the time. I won't put any more pressure on you.
Startled, she paused.
"All right," she said in a calm tone.
Additionally, I've made the decision to step back from active participation in this project. You'll lead."
She blinked. "You're ceding authority?"
"I'm demonstrating my trust in you," he said. "There are no secret strings. No meddling.
Lorna examined him intently. The impetuous, bereaved billionaire she had met months prior wasn't this one. This was more stable. Relax. expanded.
It also shook her.
Because something was also changing in the depths of her heart.
She couldn't drive away, so later that afternoon she sat in her car and stared at the steering wheel.
Her hands shook.
It was because she was starting to feel again, not because Michael was there.
Her well-defended stronghold was crumbling.
She recalled a different man. Another start. One that ended with a broken lip, shattered glass, and a courtroom that didn't trust her.
No more, she had vowed to herself.
Don't allow love to rule your life.
Michael wasn't attempting to dominate her, though.
He was taking a step back.
letting her take the lead.
allowing her room.
Nothing frightened her more than that.
Because what if it was real this time?
What if she was the one who was too afraid to try this time?
She held her phone while standing outside her tiny garden patio that evening. Five times already, she had typed out a message to him and erased it.
At last, she wrote:
I'm grateful for today.
I took note.
Her thumb was shaking as she hovered over the "send" button.
Then she gave it a tap.
The message has been sent.
It was small, but it was the first step toward something neither of them dared name, but both were starting to believe in. Michael grinned when he saw it on the other side of the city. No expectations, no confession, just recognition.