The Fixed Trilogy: Forever With You(109)
Strike that, I did know. I didn’t like it. At all. The penthouse was where our real relationship had taken place. I hated the idea of someone else being in our space.
And Hudson moving out because I wasn’t there—that meant he didn’t really believe I’d ever be back.
I was too late. He was giving up on me.
But his next words tossed everything up in the air again. “Actually, I hope I’m moving in.”
The twists and turns of this interaction had me flustered and on edge. I had to call an emotional timeout before I broke down. “H, you confuse me enough without you trying to be confusing. Could you say something I can understand?”
“I confuse you?” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction.
“Is this a surprise?”
He shrugged.
“So you’re moving in?” I prompted. Dammit, why did he have to be so difficult?
Seeming to sense I was on my last nerve, he answered. “One day. I hope.” He rubbed his lips together—ah, I missed those sweet lips. “But for now, I want you to live here.”
“What?” One day a proposal, another live in my million dollar penthouse without me. The man certainly knew how to keep me on my toes.
He also had no idea what I really wanted or needed from him.
Hudson’s expression grew serious again. “I can’t live here without you, precious.” His words were soft and low, but I could hear him clearly. “But I don’t want to sell it, because I love being here with you. Someday, you and I will be here again. While I’m waiting for you—scratch that—while I’m groveling for your forgiveness, it’s a shame to let it sit empty. You and Liesl should move in.”
“I can’t accept that, H.” My eyes felt watery. But at least he’d said he wasn’t giving up on me.
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He sighed, giving up much more easily than was characteristic. “Then it will have to sit.”
I bit back the urge to say we could live here together and offered instead, “You could rent it out.”
His brows rose. “I could rent it out to you.”
I laughed.
“Best rent in town—only cost you a weekly dinner with the landlord.”
“Stop it.” I was still smiling.
“Biweekly then. I’m not above bargaining.”
“Hudson.” He had no idea that he already had me sold. Not on moving in, but on the dates.
“Fine, monthly. I’ll take whatever scraps you’re willing to give me.” He studied me. “You’re considering giving me scraps now, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” How did he read me so easily? And why was it so easy to be with him when he’d hurt me so deeply?
The question scared me, so I skirted the issue. “Seriously, though, where’s all your stuff? Did you get another place?” All his furniture wouldn’t fit in the loft.
He shook his head. “I gave it all to a charity fundraiser.”
“Lifestyles of the rich and famous.” Though I couldn’t say I’d miss any of it. It was beautiful furniture, but Celia had chosen it all. I was quite happy with the thought of the less fortunate benefitting from it.
It seemed Hudson felt the same. “I wasn’t attached to any of it.” He straightened and walked into the room, gesturing to the empty space. “This entire apartment was perfectly designed to my tastes and style, but it never felt like a home.” He stopped a couple feet from me. “Not until you, Alayna. You made it come alive. The things that were here—they were chosen for me by someone I want completely removed from my life. Right now, the things here are the only things that made this house a place I’d want to live. Your things. You.”
“I…” My throat was too tight to speak.
“And when I move back in, we can refurnish this place from scratch. Together. You and I.”
I took in a shuddering breath. “You’re so sure that one day I’ll take you back.” The outlook was getting better and better.
“I’m hopeful.” He smiled mischievously. “Would you like to see how hopeful I am?”
“Sure.” Really, all I wanted was for him to pull me into his arms. I was almost certain that was where we’d end up. But the game we were playing to get there was intriguing.
Hudson dug in his pocket and pulled out something small and silver. “I bought this.”
He held the object by the jewel so I couldn’t really see all of it at first, but when I realized what it was, my breath caught. Because it was a ring. The ring.
He dropped it in my palm for me to examine. It wasn’t silver after all—it was platinum, if I guessed right. And the jewel was surrounded by two tapered baguette stones that led the eye to a round, brilliantly cut diamond in the center. It was at least two and half carats, maybe three. Maybe even four, for all I knew.
Tears gathered in my eyes and bewilderment muddled my brain. He’d handed it to me—it wasn’t a proposal. What was this then? A way to mess with me?
“There’s an inscription,” Hudson said softly, as though he could read my confusion.
I blinked to clear my vision enough to read: I give you all of me.
Then he bent down on one knee.
It was a proposal.