HIS DESIRE

Shattered Expectations.

Adriana.

Andrew’s arm was steady beneath mine as we entered the restaurant. The place was quiet, refined, the sort of establishment where the air itself seemed to hum with understated elegance. Soft chandeliers glowed above, bathing the tables in golden light, while murmured conversation blended with the faint notes of a piano playing somewhere in the background.

I hardly noticed any of it. My eyes, my focus, my whole being stayed tethered to the man beside me. Andrew.

He glanced down at me, his lips twitching into the kind of smile that always melted me. I couldn’t help but beam back, slipping closer against him as though the entire world outside of us had ceased to matter.

We were shown to our table, and when he pulled out my chair for me, I felt the familiar warmth unfurl in my chest. Gentlemen still existed in this world — or at least, one did.

I filled the opening silence with chatter about my day. The relentless pace of the firm, the endless calls, the way deadlines seemed to tangle into one another until I couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. I complained lightly, in the way you do when you need someone to listen, to soften the edges of exhaustion.

He let me talk, his gaze fixed on me in that steady way that both comforted and unnerved me. Sometimes I swore he could memorize every expression, every pause between my words. That intensity made my chest flutter; it was like being studied, treasured, claimed.

But then his voice cut through, low, almost hesitant.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if I really fit into your world.”

I froze mid-sentence, my glass of wine hovering just shy of my lips. My head whipped toward him. “What do you mean?”

He laughed softly, but there was no real amusement in it. “I mean… look at you. You walk into a room, and everyone knows you belong there. You’re polished, perfect — like you were born for it. Me? I’m just… me. Still trying to catch up. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never really be enough beside you.

My heart clenched so hard it ached. How could he think that? Andrew was the center of my life, my anchor when grief and emptiness threatened to swallow me whole. After everything I had lost, he was the one person who made me feel seen, whole again.

“Andrew, don’t say that.” My voice trembled, urgent. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything."I chose you. "Doesn’t that tell you anything"

His jaw tightened, his hand raking across the stubble on his chin. “It tells me you love me. But sometimes… I think love isn’t enough. Sometimes I wonder what happens if I can’t hold onto you.”

The rawness in his voice made my throat tighten. I reached across the table, threading my fingers through his, desperate to chase away his doubts. “You won’t lose me. Not now, not ever.”

He searched my face for a moment, then slid a folder onto the table between us. I blinked, confused, and opened it.

My heart stuttered when I saw the documents inside. Legal transfers. Properties. My properties.

“Andrew… what’s this?” I whispered.

His gaze darted away, almost ashamed. “Just a precaution. Something to… put us on equal footing. If you transferred some of your properties into my name, it would prove to me — to everyone — that I’m not with you for what you own. That we stand side by side, equal.”

The restaurant seemed to fade around me, the music and chatter blurring into silence. It was a big request, I knew that. A part of me registered it. But not for long. Not deeply. Because when I looked at Andrew — at the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet plea that he barely let slip — all I felt was love.

Love, and the bone-deep certainty that I would do anything to keep him safe from his fears.

So I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question. My heart was already decided before my hand even lifted the pen.

I signed the papers, each flourish of ink like a vow renewed. And when I pushed them back across the table, a strange relief filled me, as though I had finally eased a burden he never should have carried.

His fingers trembled when he kissed my knuckles. “Thank you. You’ll never regret this.”

“I never regret anything about you,” I murmured, and I meant it.

Warmth bloomed in my chest, spilling into every corner of me. So much so that I excused myself with a smile, needing a breath of air to steady the rush of it all.

The hallway leading to the restroom was quiet, the lights dimmer, the hum of the restaurant muffled behind me. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror as I passed — cheeks flushed, lips curved in a soft smile. I looked like a woman in love. And I was. Entirely.

But as I rounded the corner, I collided with someone.

The impact jolted me, but before I could stumble, strong hands caught my arms.

I looked up — and froze.

The man towering over me was like no one I had ever seen. Easily six foot five, broad-shouldered, his dark suit tailored to perfection. Power radiated off him in quiet waves, dangerous and undeniable. His hair fell in careless strands over his forehead, shadowing features that were both striking and severe.

But it was his eyes that rooted me to the spot. Ocean-blue, glacial, they pierced straight through me. Not just at me, but into me — as though peeling back every layer, every mask, until nothing was left but the bare soul I never showed anyone.

Heat crawled up my neck. Not attraction — not exactly. It was something sharper, colder. A primal awareness, the kind that whispered if you were standing on the edge of something vast and dangerous.

“I— I’m so sorry,” I stammered, pulling back.

For a long, suspended heartbeat, he said nothing. Just stared at me, silent and unreadable, like a predator deciding whether I was prey. My breath caught, the weight of his gaze leaving me breathless.

Then, finally, his voice came, low and smooth.

“It’s okay.”

Two words. Simple. Nothing more.

He released me, and I hurried past him, my pulse racing, the echo of his stare clinging to me long after I reached the restroom.

By the time I returned, Andrew was tucking the folder neatly into his coat. He looked up, and when his eyes softened on me, the unease I had felt in the hallway faded. I pushed the encounter with the stranger away. It meant nothing. Just an accident.

Andrew was what mattered. Andrew, with his doubts I would erase, his heart I would protect, his love I would never stop proving.

Later, outside my apartment, he kissed me long and slow, his lips lingering until I thought my knees might give way. My chest ached with how much I loved him, how much I needed him.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, reluctant to pull away. I watched him until he disappeared from sight, my arms hugging my bag tight against my chest as though I could still hold onto him.

that way.

I didn’t know then how much of myself I had just given away.

Not yet.