Chapter 37 - A Quiet Romance
My relationship with James developed slowly, carefully, and with a beautiful lack of desperation. I didn't need him to save me, and he didn't need to be my savior. We were two complete, successful adults who simply enjoyed the peace of each other’s company.
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon. James was at my house, sitting at the kitchen island, reading a dense legal briefing. I was at the stove, slowly stirring a pot of risotto.
The house was quiet, save for the sound of the rain against the large windows and the soft jazz playing from the speaker.
"I was thinking," James said, not looking up from his papers. "My firm is opening a secondary branch in Washington next year. They want me to spearhead the transition."
I paused, the wooden spoon hovering over the pot. "Are you moving to DC?"
James finally looked up, taking off his reading glasses. "No. I told them I wouldn't leave Chicago. I told them my life is here." He looked directly at me, his meaning entirely clear. "My heart is here."
I felt a warm, steady flutter in my chest. After Mark, I had assumed that romantic love was an inherent vulnerability, a liability I could no longer afford. But James had proven, day after day, that love could be an addition to the fortress, not a breach in the wall.
"I'm glad you're staying," I said softly, walking over to him.
May you like
He reached out, his hand gently wrapping over mine, his thumb brushing against the silver bracelet. He knew the entire history of the jewelry. He didn't ask me to take it off. He respected the armor I wore.
"I'm not going anywhere, Emma," James promised. "I know how hard you fought to build this sanctuary. I just want to sit by the fire with you."
