Page 115 of Bid For Me

When we finally break apart, both of us breathless, I look into his eyes and smile. A real smile. One that doesn’t come with doubt, but with the quiet certainty that we’re both choosing this. Choosing each other.

“Okay,” I say softly, my voice trembling with the vulnerability I’m finally allowing myself to feel. “I’m ready. Let’s take that chance.”

Seb’s eyes brighten, a mix of relief and something deeper flashing across his face. He pulls me back into his arms, holding me close as if he never wants to let go. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to either.

“I’ll never let you down again,” he promises, his voice barely a whisper against my hair.

I close my eyes, leaning into him, finally believing him. This is the beginning of something new. Something real.

My happily ever after, I hope.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Elle

I standin the middle of my apartment, surrounded by half-packed boxes and empty shelves. The place feels so different now – almost foreign. It’s not just the fact that it’s almost empty, but that I’m leaving. For good.

I reach up to pull down a framed picture from the wall, one of my mom and me when I was younger, and the sharp sting of nostalgia hits me. This was the last space that truly felt like my own.

This home was a symbol of my independence. Of me not needing anyone. But now I’m leaving it all behind. I’m moving into Seb’s house.Ourhouse. The house he purchased, designed and fitted out for us. It’s perfect. He did a fantastic job. There’s not a single thing I would change about the place.

But…

I drag a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the unsettling thought. I never thought I’d be here, doing this.

I can still feel the weight of Seb’s presence in the back of my mind. Our conversations have become more real lately – more intimate. We’ve talked about things that we’d been avoidingbefore: trust, vulnerability, what we need from each other. We’ve been taking things slow, not rushing into anything. It feels right, but also terrifying in its own way.

I pull the last of the books from the shelf, running my fingers along the spines before carefully placing them into a box. A week has passed since Seb handed his father over to the authorities. And with that, everything changed. The walls between us, the invisible barriers, they’ve all slowly started to fall away. He’s been patient, giving me space when I need it, but we’ve spent so much time together that I can’t imagine not being near him now.

I don’t want to spend another night under a different roof to him. Heismy husband after all.

I look around at the boxes stacked in the corner, my things now reduced to memories and material. My entire life here is packed away, ready to be carted off. To be replaced. I breathe in deeply, steadying myself.

I think I’m ready for this. Or at least, I tell myself I am.

There’s a part of me that feels exposed, though. A little vulnerable. I’m not sure why that part of me is still clinging to the safety of this place, this life of independence. It’s like I’m clinging to something that no longer serves me, because stepping into the unknown with Seb feels so…risky. So full of possibilities, and I don’t know if I’m entirely ready for it.

I want to be. I want to trust him. I want to trust us. In us. To trust inforever.But it’s scary.

The soft click of the front door opening brings me back to reality, and I look up just as Seb walks in, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees me standing there, lost in my thoughts.

“Still here?” he teases, his voice warm with affection. “Thought you’d be halfway to the house by now.”

I chuckle, even though it feels a little forced. “I’m getting there. Just…organising things.”

Seb’s eyes soften. He crosses the room in a few long strides, his hand gently cupping my cheek. “You don’t have to rush,” he says quietly. “There’s no deadline.”

I lean into his touch, feeling the comfort of it seep through me. He’s been patient with me in a way no one else has. It’s a level of kindness I didn’t know I deserved, and yet, it’s exactly what I need.

“I’m not rushing,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just want this to feel right. I’ve been doing things on my own for so long…it’s just a big change.”

His thumb brushes across my skin, slow and deliberate, as if trying to reassure me without words. “I know. And we’ll take it slow. You don’t have to change anything for me. We’re just…doing this together.”

The simplicity of his words hits me harder than I expected, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

We’re doing this together.

It’s enough to make my chest tighten with emotion.