Chapter 321
Edward, built like a solid oak tree with his sleeves rolled up to show off those farmer’s arms and a wry smile that said he’d seen it all, let out a soft chuckle that rumbled from his chest. “Aye, love, but the proof’s in the pudding. Let’s see if the lad can charm his way out of the doghouse he’s dug himself into.” He raised his voice, waving them over with a hearty gesture. “Oi, you two! Don’t just stand there like statues in the garden—tea’s on the boil inside. Come warm your bones p>
Isabella glanced over her shoulder at her folks, a tiny smile sneaking onto her lips despite the emotional tornado swirling in her chest—like, how could she not? Her parents were basically the human equivalent of a cozy blanket. “C’mon,” she murmured to Henry, slipping her hand into his with a squeeze that felt both tentative and electric. It was like threading a lifeline through the chaos.
Henry tagged along, holding on for dear life as if she might pull a Houdini and disappear again—fair enough, after the night he’d had. The bodyguards gave a respectful nod from their post by the SUV, blending into the background like pros, knowing full well their boss needed this solo spotlight to sort his heart out.
Stepping inside, the cottage wrapped around them like a big, welcoming hug—cozy and utterly lived-in, with those sturdy wooden beams overhead that probably had stories etched into every knot, a fireplace crackling away like it was auditioning for a holiday movie, and the air thick with the irresistible combo of fresh-baked scones and herbal tea that made your stomach rumble on cue. Sunlight filtered through delicate lace curtains, casting playful patterns across the well-worn oak table where Winnie had laid out a spread fit for royalty: steaming mugs that promised comfort in every sip, flaky pastries glistening with butter, and a cheerful vase of daisies plucked straight from the meadow, still dewy and perky.
Winnie bustled over like a whirlwind of hospitality, her eyes sparkling with that twinkly appraisal as she sized Henry up close—head to toe, like she was inspecting a fine vintage wine. “Welcome, welcome, dear! I’m Winnie, and this here’s Edward. Make yourself right at home—kick off your shoes if you fancy.” She leaned in toward Edward, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that wasn’t quite as quiet as she thought. “See? Proper gentleman through and through. And those eyes of his—warm as a summer sky. We’ve hit the jackpot, love p>
Edward just smirked, that gruff charm of his shining through as he clapped Henry on the shoulder with a solid thump that said “welcome to the family… maybe.” “Have a seat, son. You look like you’ve wrestled a bear and lost—twice. We’ll leave you two lovebirds to chat.” With that, the pair shuffled off to the adjoining kitchen, though the open doorway let bits of their chatter sneak through: Winnie’s bubbly laughter bubbling up like champagne, mingled with Edward’s low, approving grunts. It was like eavesdropping on a live rom-com commentary track—endearingly nosy, but with all the good intentions in the world.
Henry and Isabella sank into the plush sofa by the crackling fire, the heat wrapping around them like a cozy blanket, chasing away the chill from the morning drive. But man, the air between them? It was electric, buzzing with all those unsaid words hanging like storm clouds, ready to burst.
Henry twisted toward her, his hands instinctively reaching out again, drawing her close with that gentle but insistent pull. She didn’t fight it—hell, she melted right in, curling up against his chest and tuning into the wild thump-thump of his heart, like it was racing to catch up with his brain.
“Isabella,” he started, his voice spiking with this raw cocktail of relief and “what the actual hell” frustration, the words spilling out like they’d been bottled up too long. “What were you thinking, pulling a vanishing act like that? No heads-up, no nothing? I was losing my shit! Couldn’t track you down anywhere—hotels, airports, your squad of friends. I thought… God, the worst-case scenarios were on repeat in my head. A freak accident, or that creep Logan slithering back for round two of his revenge plot, or p>
“Henry, shh,” she cut in softly, her fingers sketching lazy, calming loops on his back, trying to dial down the panic dial.
But nope, he wasn’t hitting pause yet—his arms tightened around her like a vice, emotion crashing over him in waves. “No, you don’t get it!” he burst out, his voice cranking up to a yell that was more desperate heartbreak than real anger, bouncing off the cottage walls and making the flames flicker in surprise. “I was worried out of my freaking mind! Pacing that lobby like a caged tiger, replaying every damn moment we’ve had, kicking myself for being such an idiot. You think I’m still pining over Eliana? That I’d never shake her off? Yeah, two days ago, I might’ve bought into that crap myself. But when you stormed off, dropping that ’let’s just be friends’ bomb… it wrecked me. Shattered into a million pieces. I can’t rewind to that pretend world. Can’t watch you slip away. Because—surprise—I’m head-over-heels in love with you, Isabella. The kind that’s shocking, all-consuming, fiercer than a wildfire and way deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. Sucks that it took you calling it quits for me to wake up, but here I am, hat in hand, begging. I’ll do whatever it takes—climb mountains, fight dragons, learn to bake those scones your mom makes—to prove it. Just… please, don’t bail on me again p>
Isabella eased back just a touch, enough to lock eyes with him, her own glistening with unshed tears that caught the firelight like tiny diamonds. “Henry… I didn’t mean to freak you out like that. I just needed space. To think, to breathe without the weight of it all. Hearing you go on about Eliana? It stung, you know? Made me feel like I was forever chasing ghosts, always the understudy in your story.” She let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes.
“You weren’t,” he insisted, his thumbs gently wiping away a stray tear from her cheek, like he was handling something fragile and priceless. “Eliana? She was just a college crush, this hazy ’what if’ that fizzled out when she up and vanished. Jason spun some yarn about her transferring schools, but who knows? I never dug deeper. I clung to that ghost because it was easy—zero drama, no real risk. But you, Isabella? You’re the lightning bolt that crashed through my safe little world. You barreled into that bar, all fire and fury, reeling from Logan’s betrayal—that sleaze cheating with his baby mama and plotting to bump you off for your fortune, right before the big ’I do.’ Twisted, right? And yeah, I jumped in to help you dismantle his whole shady empire, but let’s be real: you were the one who pulled me out of my shell. Shattered those walls I’d built around my ambitions, the ones that kept me playing lone wolf. I love you, Isabella. Not in that platonic, buddy-movie way. As in, you’re my everything—the chaos, the calm, the whole damn package p>
She scanned his face, those walls of hers crumbling under the raw vulnerability staring back at her, like peeking behind a curtain she’d never expected to open. “But what if this is just panic mode? The fear of me slipping away? What if Eliana pops back up like a bad sequel p>
“She won’t,” he shot back, his voice rock-steady now, no room for doubt. “And even if she did—poof, out of nowhere—it wouldn’t change a thing. You’re my choice, full stop. The one I can’t imagine life without. Date me, Isabella. For real this time. Let me show you—no more hiding behind ’just friends,’ no more holding back like I’m scared of the fall p>
From the kitchen, Winnie leaned in close to Edward, her whisper carrying just enough to be overheard. “Told you, didn’t I? He’s a keeper—got that spark.” Edward let out a gruff grunt, but a sly smile crept across his face, like he’d just won a bet he hadn’t admitted to placing.
Isabella paused, the moment stretching like taffy, then she leaned in, her lips grazing his in a soft, testing kiss that sent sparks flying. “Okay,” she breathed against him, a smile tugging at the corners. “But let’s take it slow. No more dramatic exits—for either of us. Deal p>
Henry’s arms wrapped around her tighter, relief washing over him like a warm sunrise after a stormy night. “Deal. God, you have no idea how terrified I was—thought I’d blown it for good p>
And right there, with the fire popping like it was applauding and the countryside humming its lazy tune outside, those nagging chains of doubt started to unravel—just a bit, but enough to let the light in. Who knew a countryside cottage could double as a therapy session?