THE BILLIONAIRE RUN AWAY BRIDE 🥰

CHAPTER 2 EPISODE 5

THE WAY YOU STILL MAKE ME FEEL:

Celine couldn't stop thinking about what Richard had said.

George might not know the truth about his own identity.

It was a lot to take in, especially when she was still trying to understand why her father had disappeared and why her mother had left her with so many unanswered questions.

But there was another problem.

George was standing right in front of her, looking at her as though he wanted to say something but didn't know how.

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Then stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you know me better than I know myself."

George gave a tired smile. "I used to."

Celine looked away.

That was the problem with George Williams. Even when she was angry with him, he could still say something that reminded her of the man she had fallen in love with.

The man who used to wait outside her lectures because he wanted to take her home.

The man who remembered how she liked her coffee.

The man who once drove through heavy rain just to bring her the book she had mentioned wanting.

She hated that she remembered those things.

She hated even more that a part of her still missed him.

"Come on," George said quietly. "I'll take you upstairs."

"I can walk by myself."

"I know."

"Then stop following me."

"I'm not following you, Celine. We're going to the same place."

Despite herself, she almost smiled.

Almost.

George noticed.

"Was that a smile?"

"No."

"I saw it."

"You saw nothing."

He laughed softly, and for one brief moment, things felt the way they used to.

Then Celine remembered the wedding reception, the fear that had driven her away, and the reasons she had decided she couldn't stay with him.

The smile disappeared from her face.

George noticed that too.

He didn't ask what had changed.

He simply walked beside her.

---

UPSTAIRS

Celine entered the bedroom and went straight to the window.

She needed a little space to think.

George closed the door behind them.

"I'll ask the staff to bring you something to eat," he said.

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten properly today."

She turned around. "How would you know?"

"Because I know you."

"Maybe you knew me before."

George was quiet for a moment.

"Does everything I do have to remind you of why you left?"

Celine swallowed.

"I didn't leave because I wanted to hurt you."

"Then why did you?"

The question caught her off guard.

She had expected another argument, not the quiet pain in his voice.

George stepped closer.

"Do you know what it felt like to stand in front of all those people and realize my bride had disappeared? I called every number I could think of. I checked every hospital. I couldn't sleep because I kept wondering whether something had happened to you."

He paused.

"And when I finally learned you were alive, I still didn't know why you had left me."

Celine lowered her eyes.

There were things she wanted to tell him. Things she had rehearsed in her head countless times.

But every time she tried to speak, fear stopped her.

If she told him everything, would he believe her?

Or would he look at her as though she had betrayed him?

"George, please," she whispered. "Not now."

He studied her face before nodding.

"All right."

She hadn't expected him to give in so easily.

He walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked before she could stop herself.

George turned.

"Somewhere you can breathe without feeling like I'm asking you questions."

The answer made her chest ache.

He was trying.

That was what made everything so difficult.

"George?"

"Yes?"

She hesitated.

"Thank you."

He gave her a small smile.

"You're welcome, Celine."

Then he left.

And somehow, his absence made the room feel lonelier than it had before.

---

LATER THAT NIGHT

Celine couldn't sleep.

She had changed into a simple nightdress and was sitting on the bed when she heard a soft knock.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

George.

She considered pretending to be asleep, but the door opened slightly.

"I brought you something."

He entered carrying a tray with a sandwich, fruit, and a glass of water.

Celine stared at the tray.

"You made this?"

"Don't look so surprised. I know how to make a sandwich."

"Last time you tried to cook, you nearly burned your kitchen."

"That was one time."

"George, the smoke alarm went off."

He laughed.

"And I learned from my mistake."

For the first time that evening, Celine laughed too.

It wasn't loud, and it didn't last long, but George looked at her as though she had given him something precious.

"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me like that."

His smile faded into something softer.

"I missed that sound."

Celine's laughter disappeared.

George placed the tray on the bedside table.

"I missed hearing you laugh. I missed arguing with you over silly things. I missed waking up and finding you had stolen all the blankets."

"You stole them first."

"I was cold."

"You were sleeping like a king while I was freezing."

He shook his head. "You could have asked me to move."

"I did. You ignored me."

"I must have been asleep."

"You were snoring."

George burst out laughing.

Celine tried to remain serious, but she couldn't.

For a few seconds, they were simply two people remembering the good parts of a relationship that had become painfully complicated.

Then George reached toward her face.

Celine went still.

His fingers gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.

"I've wanted to do that since I found you," he admitted.

Her heart began beating faster.

"George..."

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

He didn't move closer.

He waited.

Celine knew she should tell him to leave. She knew there were too many unanswered questions between them.

But she also remembered the way he used to kiss her forehead before leaving for work, and how he would pull her close whenever she was upset.

She missed him.

That truth frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

"Don't make me regret this," she whispered.

George's expression softened.

"I won't force you into anything. Not tonight. Not ever."

He lowered his hand.

For some reason, that small gesture made Celine want to reach for him.

So she did.

She caught his hand before he could step away.

George looked down at their joined hands, then back at her.

Neither spoke.

Celine moved closer.

The kiss began hesitantly, almost as though they were both afraid the other might change their mind.

George paused, giving her time to pull away.

Instead, she held his hand tighter and kissed him again.

This time, the kiss lasted longer.

His free hand rested gently against her cheek, and Celine found herself remembering why she had fallen for him in the first place. There was a tenderness to him that the rest of the world rarely saw.

When they finally separated, neither moved very far.

George rested his forehead against hers.

"I still love you," he whispered.

Celine closed her eyes.

Those were the words she had once dreamed of hearing from him.

But hearing them now didn't erase the past.

"I don't know what to do with that," she admitted.

"You don't have to decide tonight."

She looked at him.

"What if I can't trust you again?"

The pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Then I'll have to give you a reason to."

Celine wanted to believe him.

She wanted to forget the wedding, the secrets, and the fear that had made her run.

But she couldn't.

Not yet.

She leaned forward and kissed him once more, gently this time, before pulling away.

"Please go, George."

He nodded, though disappointment crossed his face.

"Goodnight, Celine."

"Goodnight."

He reached the door before she spoke again.

"George?"

He turned.

"Thank you for the food."

He smiled.

"Tomorrow, I'll make you something better."

"Please don't burn the kitchen."

He laughed as he left.

Celine watched the door close, then touched her lips.

She had spent weeks telling herself that leaving George was the only way to protect herself.

Tonight, she had discovered something she wasn't ready to face.

She still wanted him.

And that made everything more complicated.

---

THE NEXT MORNING

George was already dressed when his phone rang.

It was Richard.

"We need to talk," his uncle said.

"About the photograph?"

"About you."

George frowned.

"What about me?"

Richard took a deep breath.

"Your mother has been lying to you for years. And after what happened last night, I don't think we can afford to wait any longer."

George glanced toward the bedroom door.

Celine was still asleep.

"What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the truth about your birth could change everything you believe about your family."

George's jaw tightened.

"Then tell me."

There was a long silence.

Finally, Richard spoke.

"Meet me at your father's old office. Come alone."

The call ended.

George stared at his phone.

He had spent his entire life believing he knew who he was.

Now, for the first time, he wasn't sure.

And the woman he still loved was connected to a secret that could destroy both their families.