Chapter 8 - The Confession in the StormUp close, Rhett’s hands were trembling—something Celeste had never, in all their months together, seen him do.
He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently brushing a stray lock of honey-colored hair away from her damp forehead. His touch was achingly tender, entirely stripped of the armor he wore for the rest of the world.
“I spent thirty-eight years building a fortress,” Rhett murmured, his voice thick with emotion as the storm raged outside the window. “I thought if I controlled everything, if I kept love out, I would never feel pain. I thought I wanted an heir because I wanted a legacy of stone and steel.”
He looked down at her hand, sliding his fingers through hers, lacing them tightly together.
“And then you walked into my life in a clearance-sale blue dress, laughing at my security team, and turning my pristine estate into a home,” Rhett continued, his honey-brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. “When Vance told me today... when I realized what you were hiding, my first thought wasn't about the stock market. It wasn't about the board.”
Celeste’s breath hitched. “What... what was it?”
“It was sheer, unadulterated terror that I might have scared you away,” Rhett confessed, pressing her hand softly against his cheek. “I don’t care about the contract, Celeste. I don’t care about the company, or the headlines, or what the world says. I care about you. Only you.”
Before Celeste could process the magnitude of his words, a sharp, piercing pain ripped through her lower abdomen. She gasped, arching her back against the pillows as a new, overwhelming wave hit her.
“Rhett...!” she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “The baby... the baby is coming now!”
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Panic flared in Rhett’s eyes, but he pushed it down instantly. He stood up, hit the emergency call button, and turned back to her with a fierce, unwavering resolve.
“I’m right here,” he vowed, gripping her hand tighter than ever. “I’m not going anywhere.”
