Page 170 of His Confession
“All good?” he asks softly.
I lean into him. “Yeah.”
He presses a kiss to my hair, unthinking, easy.
Watching him now as he laughs, surrounded by people he chose, I realize how much has shifted in just a few months. How the man who once hid behind control and distance now stands fully present in his own life.
Later, after hugs and congratulations and lingering goodbyes, when the penthouse finally quiets again, Colton and I end up back where the night began.
In the bathroom.
He leans against the counter, watching me with that familiar intensity that no longer feels like something I have to earn or tiptoe around.
“Still can’t believe you married me,” he says softly.
I smile. “Still can’t believe you let me.”
He reaches for me, pulling me close, forehead resting against mine.
“Not only did I let you,” he says. “I chose you.”
I think about everything that brought us here. The grief. The fear. The moments he almost walked away and the moment he finally didn’t.
“Iknow,” I whisper.
And I do. Because it wasn’t the wedding or the penthouse or the plans for Italy.
It was the confession.
The truth he finally let himself speak.
That’s what changed everything.
