Maya laughed through tears. “You’re proposing in a hospital room.”
“I’ll do it again somewhere better if the setting is important to you.”
She covered her mouth with her free hand because joy, when it finally arrived after enough fear, felt dangerously close to pain.
“Yes,” she said.
Taylor blinked. “Yes?”
“Yes, you impossible man.”
He kissed her again, laughing this time against her mouth, and the sound of it felt like a door opening somewhere deep in the architecture of both their lives.
The legal end of the contract arrived seven days later.
Taylor had his lawyer send the termination documents to the penthouse instead of the office. Maya watched him sign first at the dining table where so many meal plans and blood pressure logs and late-night conversations had accumulated over the last months. The same table where they had once eaten like careful strangers. He slid the papers to her.
