Within days, Susan's life was upended. Her boss handed her a dismissal letter with a guilty grimace.
"Nothing personal," he muttered. "It's… something I had to do."
Susan had laughed then, bitter and sharp. Chris Lopez and his games.
That laughter turned into fury when she found him waiting outside her apartment, casual as if he owned the block.
"This isn't going to make me run back to you," she snapped, shoving the letter into his chest. "I'll survive."
Chris stood, pocketing his hands. "I didn't do that to ruin you, Susan. I don't need to. I'm trying to win you over, not destroy you."
"Then maybe start by telling me your intentions before pulling strings."
Leah whimpered, sensing the tension.
Chris flinched. "You're right. I'm sorry. But the truth is…" He hesitated, then delivered the blow. "This house? It has a new owner. And it isn't being rented anymore."
Her eyes blazed. "Petty."
For the first time in weeks, he smirked. It wasn't cruel, wasn't calculated just Chris, standing in all the arrogant power he'd once carried so easily.
"That's the power you hold over me, Susan."
Her heart skipped before she could stop it.
"Don't make this harder. You know what I'm capable of," he murmured, stepping closer. She stepped back, but he followed until there was barely a breath between them.
"I'm not scared of you," she hissed, voice trembling.
He nodded. "I know, I told you before. You scare me. But my biggest fear? Missing another second of your lives. I can't force you. But I'll do anything anything to prove myself."
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, and for a heartbeat, she nearly leaned in.
Tiny fingers grabbed his sleeve. Leah.
Chris froze, looking down at the baby gripping him with fierce innocence. His chest tightened.
Susan swallowed hard, her eyes drifting from her daughter's hand to Chris's face.
"What do you plan?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"Come back with me," he said. His voice was steady now, but his eyes begged.
"It won't be easy," she warned, clutching Leah closer.
His lips twitched into the faintest smile. "You were never easy."
"Are you letting us in or leaving us on the street?" she countered.
He chuckled, pulling a card from his pocket and pressing it into her hand.
"A resort. Two hours from here. Everything you need." He held out a bundle of bills and his car key. "You can go there… or come back with me. That's the only choice."
She snatched the bills with a glare and stormed off. He chuckled, watching her retreat, a flicker of hope warming his chest for the first time in months.
Later, when she walked into the resort and saw the luxury laid out for her a place that looked more like paradise than punishment Susan whispered, "Unbelievable."
A knock came, and two women stood waiting.
"We'll be working for you during your stay," one said with a warm smile.
Susan swallowed her irritation, forcing a polite nod.
Chris was playing every card.
Fine.
She would exhaust him.
Inside, the suite waiting for her was already prepared fresh flowers, a crib stocked with blankets softer than clouds, a wardrobe filled with clothes in her size. Baby clothes folded neatly in drawers as though someone had studied every need she could possibly have.
Susan's chest tightened.
She wanted to scoff. To scream. To rage at him for trying to buy his way back into her life. But when she laid Leah in the crib and watched her daughter curl into the blanket with a sigh of contentment, Susan's eyes burned.
He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly what they needed. Chris was pulling every card.
And she hated him for it.
And she hated herself more for the flicker of relief that someone cared enough to try.
That evening, she found him waiting outside the suite, with his packed luggage
"You really think this will change anything?" she demanded, folding her arms.
His eyes softened, not with arrogance but with a weariness that shook her. "No. I don't think this fixes us. I just… want you safe. Both of you."
The honesty in his voice disarmed her more than the resort ever could.
"Stop trying to buy me, Chris," she whispered, voice cracking.
"I'm not trying to buy you." His gaze held hers, unwavering. "I'm trying to prove I'm not letting you go again."
Silence pressed between them, heavy and raw. Leah's faint cry cracked it open, pulling Susan instinctively toward her daughter. Chris followed, close but careful not to brush against her. He lingered only long enough to see Susan settle Leah against her chest, then retreated to his room.
He unpacked deliberately, as if laying down a vow with every folded shirt, every paper stacked neatly on the desk. Not just for work. For them. For the family he was determined to claim.
Hours later, when he stepped out, he found Susan at the counter with a sandwich in hand. For a heartbeat, he simply watched her the curve of her cheek, the way the light brushed her hair. She hadn't changed, not really. If anything, she was sharper, more breath-taking. But the icy glare she levelled at him warned him against saying it aloud.
"Why are you still here, Chris?"
He shrugged, reached for water like her question hadn't just burned a hole in him.
Her laugh was bitter, humourless. "Walking around like everything's fine. Like we're just… happy." She scoffed and stormed to her room, slamming the door.
Chris only exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. She could throw daggers all she wanted he wasn't leaving. Not again.
The next morning, Susan was already awake, cupboards banging as she searched for something to do.
Chris emerged, sleep-heavy, running a hand through his hair. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know how to just sit around," she snapped.
"It's called resting. You should try it."
"I don't need rest." She yanked open the fridge. The door swung shut behind her, and she turned to find Chris suddenly close, too close.
Her breath caught. He hadn't been this near in a very long time. His presence unsettled her more than his words.
"You don't own me, Chris. You don't get to control me."
He didn't flinch. Didn't back away.
The nearness burned. She shoved him; palms hard against his chest. "Don't tell me what to do!" she spat before storming out.
Chris's sigh followed her. She was fire. Untamed. His fire.