Brandon's POV
The call came just after lunch, when I was halfway through a report and already counting down the hours until I could go home. My phone buzzed with her name on the screen, and the moment I heard her voice, I knew something was different.
"Brandon," she said, a little breathless. "I got a job."
I sat up straighter, the report forgotten. "You did?"
"Yes." She gave a small laugh that cracked in the middle, equal parts relief and disbelief. "I finally did it. They offered me the position this morning."
A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. "That's incredible. Where?"
There was a pause — just long enough for me to sense it was deliberate. "At your bank," she said carefully. "Client relationships."
For a second, the words didn't compute. "My bank?"
"Yes," she rushed on. "I didn't tell you I applied because I didn't want you… I didn't want you to think I needed your help. Or that you had to get involved."
I leaned back in my chair, the weight of it sinking in. Of all the places, of all the possibilities — she'd landed here, right in my orbit. My chest ached with pride, but under it was something sharper. Worry about complications.
But in her voice, I heard excitement, not hesitation. And I wasn't about to take that from her.
"I'm proud of you," I said, and meant it more than she could know. "Really proud. You did this on your own, Amelia."
There was a beat of silence, then a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."
I could picture her smiling, finally smiling for real after weeks of trying and failing. And despite the knot forming in my gut about what it might mean for us — seeing each other at work, the scrutiny, the boundaries — I found myself smiling too.
Whatever came next, she'd earned this moment. And I wasn't going to let my doubts ruin it.
*****
By the time she walked through the door that evening, she was practically glowing. She dropped her bag by the sofa and spun once, her laugh filling the room.
"I still can't believe it," she said, cheeks flushed. "I thought they'd shut me down like all the others. But they didn't. They actually… wanted me."
Her joy hit me square in the chest. Weeks of strain and rejection had worn her down, and now, finally, she looked alive again.
"I told you," I said, grinning. "Anyone would be lucky to have you."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't falter. "You're biased."
"Completely," I admitted. "But that doesn't make me wrong."
I'd picked up a bottle of wine on the way home, nothing fancy, but when I brought it over she let out a delighted little gasp, like it was the finest champagne. We curled up on the sofa, glasses in hand, plates of takeout spread out in front of us on the coffee table.
For the first time in weeks, there wasn't an edge to the air. No silence loaded with unspoken worry. Just us, laughing over bad fortune cookies, teasing each other about who'd steal the last dumpling.
At one point, she leaned her head against my shoulder with a sigh that was so soft, so content, it silenced every thought in my head.
"You know," she murmured, "I thought I had to do this completely alone. To prove something. But tonight…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm glad you're here."
I didn't say anything. I just tightened my arm around her, because if I spoke, I wasn't sure I could keep it together.
The weight between us, the strain, the constant push-and-pull — it loosened in that moment. Not gone, not solved, but eased enough that we could finally breathe again.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe we might just make it through.
I looked down at her. She was flushed from the wine, her eyes bright, her lips curved in a smile that slowly faltered as she caught my gaze.
The air thickened. My heart pounded. For weeks I'd held myself back, letting her have the space she needed, not daring to cross the line. But tonight, all of that restraint felt impossible.
Her breath hitched. She didn't move away.
"Amelia…" I started, but my voice broke, too low, too rough.
She tilted her chin up, eyes searching mine. "Brandon."
That was all it took. I closed the gap, kissing her like I'd been waiting my whole life to do it.
Fierce, desperate, but with a care that came from every ounce of restraint I'd held onto until now.
She responded instantly, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer. The weeks of tension, the struggle, the stubborn silences — all of it melted into heat and urgency.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, she laughed softly against my lips. "About time," she whispered.
And I could only smile, because she was right.
*****
Amelia's POV
I'd thought the end of the investigation would feel like a clean slate, but life wasn't so tidy.
Clearing my name hadn't magically stitched me back together. I was still rebuilding, still learning who I was when the weight of my ex and my family's lies weren't crushing me.
But tonight, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was carrying it all alone.
Brandon's arms around me were steady and sure, grounding me in a way I hadn't dared to believe possible. The man who had given me space to stumble, who had stood steady at my side, who had believed I could find my own way — he was still here. And I wanted him here.
I didn't know what came next. A new job, a new future, maybe even a new version of myself I hadn't yet met. But as I leaned into him, breathless and laughing, I realized I wasn't afraid anymore.
For the first time since it all began, the future didn't feel like a sentence. It felt like a choice. And this time, it would be mine.
~ End ~