Chop 30
“You too, Zoey Bennett.”
Finally, with what felt like superhuman effort, I reached down for my bag. It was time to return to my real life, to leave behind the fantasy of being a billionaire’s fiancée, of belonging to a world that would never be mine.
My hand reached for the door handle, but before I could open it, I turned back to Christian. I wanted one last look, one final moment to keep in memory.
“Goodbye,” I murmured, leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. An innocent gesture, an appropriate full stop.
But when my lips touched his skin, something happened. I don’t know if he turned his face, or if I changed the angle at the last second. All I know is that suddenly, our lips met.
It was like an electric current shot through me. I tried to pull away-I really did. But Christian’s hands were on my face, gentle yet firm, and my body responded to a desire stronger than reason.
The kiss started slow, hesitant, like a question. Then it became something more-urgent, needy, almost desperate. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. I felt his hands slide down my back, drawing me against him as much as the car’s console would allow.
A low sound escaped my throat as his tongue found mine, and I felt his body shudder in response. It was just us, surrendered to something we could no longer deny.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, staring at each other with swollen lips and pupils blown wide with desire, there was no more pretending. No more contracts, no business deal.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it. The silence between us now carried a different question, a new kind of possibility.
I sucked in a breath, fighting for clarity. It was madness. But I wanted that madness one last time.
“Do you want to come in?”
The words hung between us, heavy with meaning. The air inside the car felt thick, electric. Christian stayed close -so close I could feel his breath, see every little detail of his face-the faint shadow of stubble, the intense light in his eyes, the lips still damp from our kiss.
For a moment-a glorious, hopeful moment-I thought he’d say yes. That we’d get out of the car together, walk into the house hand in hand, and maybe, just maybe, start something real. Something that belonged to us.
His hand brushed my cheek, so softly it almost hurt. The look in his eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen- vulnerable, almost reverent.
“Zoey…” My name left his lips like a prayer. “I want to. More than you can imagine.”
My heart raced. I leaned toward him, ready for another kiss, ready to pull him inside, to continue what we had started. But his hands gently held my shoulders, keeping a small but decisive distance between us.
“But I can’t.”
Three simple words. Three syllables that dropped like stones in my stomach.
“Why?” I managed to ask, my voice weaker than I wanted.
Christian closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering strength.
“Because you deserve more than this.” When he opened them again, there was a sad determination in his gaze. More than an impulsive moment. More than I can give you right now.”
Heat rushed to my face, shame quickly replacing desire. Of course. What had I been thinking? That Christian Kensington, billionaire heir, actually wanted something more with the dress shop girl he had hired for a job?
“You don’t have to come up with pretty excuses,” I said, pulling back into my seat, trying to salvage a shred of dignity. “A simple ‘no’ would’ve been enough.”
“It’s not an excuse, Zoey.” His voice carried a desperation that didn’t fit with rejection. “I want to… damn it, I want to walk into that house with you more than anything right now.”
“But you won’t,” I cut in, my voice cold now.
“Not like this. Not when we’re both confused, emotional.” He ran a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture. . You’re worth more than a goodbye fling.”
I swallowed the knot forming in my throat.
“Goodbye, Christian.”
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I opened the door and stepped out in one swift motion, without looking back. The Sunday morning sun was almost offensively bright, lighting the path to my front door as if it were any ordinary day. As if my world wasn’t crumbling for the second time in so little time.
As I walked, I heard the Porsche’s engine purr. Christian waited until I reached the door before driving off. The sound of the car fading away echoed the emptiness settling in my chest.
The house was silent and empty, just as I knew it would be on a Sunday morning. The silence, which usually gave me peace, now only amplified the chaos in my head.
I dropped my purse on the couch and let myself collapse beside it. The tears I had held back in the car now flowed freely. Why was I crying? It was ridiculous. Christian owed me nothing. Our deal was over. He had kept his word-
my father was free from his debts. I had kept mine-pretending to be his fiancée for a few days. Transaction complete.
So why did it hurt so much?
I stayed there, crying for who knows how long, until the sound of the front door startled me.
“Zoey?” Annabelle’s voice reached me even before she stepped into the living room. “You’re back already? I thought…”
She froze when she saw me. Even in my miserable state, I couldn’t help but notice her appearance: messy hair, party clothes, sunglasses indoors-a clear sign of a brutal hangover.
“Oh my God, what happened?” She immediately dropped her bag and rushed over. “Did Christian do something? Because if he hurt you, I swear I’ll find a way to bankrupt that entire vineyard!”
Annabelle smiled, settling down beside me.
“Never underestimate the power of vengeful bartenders.” Her smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. “But seriously, Zoey. What happened?”
I told her everything. The abrupt way we left the vineyard, the long silent drive, the talk in the car, the kiss. And finally, the rejection.
“He said you ‘deserve more’?” Annabelle repeated, incredulous. “What kind of bullshit is that?”
“Apparently, I’m too good for a farewell hookup with the most desired billionaire in the country,” I tried to joke, but my voice cracked at the end.
Annabelle studied me for a moment.
“And what did you want to happen?”
The question caught me off guard. What did I want? I wasn’t even sure myself.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But not this.”
“You like him.” It wasn’t a question.
I opened my mouth to deny it, but Annabelle’s look stopped me. My sister knew me too well.
“Maybe,” I murmured. “But it doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”
Annabelle sighed, leaning back against the couch.
“You know what’s most annoying?” she said after a moment. “He was probably being sincere.”
“What?”
That pulled a weak laugh out of me through the tears.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.