Chapter 22

Howard's POV

I stood before the full-length mirror, methodically buttoning a fresh dress shirt. Mother's voice echoed in my head: "Just one dinner with Catherine Morgan, Howard. That's all I ask." I'd finallyagreed,if only to keep her from interfering further with Annie and Lucy. The idea of spending an evening with Catherine held all the appeal of a hostile takeover meeting.but sometimes tactical retreats were necessary.

My hand froze mid-button as I noticed something tucked between my folded shírts - a delicate piece of black lace. Annie's underwear, forgotten in the heat of that passionate night. The sight of it sent a rush of memories flooding back: her soft gasps against my neck, the intoxicating scent of lilacs that seemed to linger on my sheets for days, the way she'd trembled in my arms...

"Damn it." I sank onto the edge of my bed, the lace material crushed in my fist. What kind of CEO was I? I could negotiate billion-dollar deals without breaking a sweat, but I'd managed to botch the most important proposal of my life with all the finesse of an intern's first pitch meeting. "Will you marry me?" The words haunted me now - how I'd blurted them out like some impulsive proposal at a board meeting. No heartfelt speech about how she'd become as essential to me as breathing. No mention of how her presence had transformed my carefully ordered world into something vibrant and alive. Just those four stark words, hanging in the air between us like an ill-prepared business proposition. I'd seen the hurt flash in her eyes before she'd covered it with that professional mask she wore so well. Of course she'd refused. What woman wants to hear that marriage is just a practical solution for childcare?

The truth caught in my throat even now, in the empty silence of my bedroom: I was terrified1. Terrified that if I revealed the depth of my feelings, she'd run. Terrified that my mother would use the Morgan family's influence to destroy her career if she became more than Lucy's caretaker.Terrified of losing the one person who'd made me feel truly alive for the first time in years.

"I should have told her," I whispered to the empty room. "Should have said it was because I love_"

My phone's sharp ring shattered the moment. Wilson's name flashed on the screen, accompanied by a video call request. I straightened my shoulders. CEO mask sliding back into place as I accepted the call.

"Mr. Thompson." Wilson's tired face filled the screen, the dark circles under his eyes testament to long hours. "The team wanted you to see our progress."

The screen filled with character designs and user interface mockups.Months of work spread before me in neat digital rows, yet something felt fundamentally wrong.

"This is what we've developed over the past year," Wilsoncontinued,pride evident in his voice. I studied the data carefully, years of experience highlighting the crucial flaw. "The entire user experience needs to be reconstructed. You're missing the core appeal for our female demographic." "Sir?" Wilson's confidence wavered. "Look at the market research." I pulled up the relevant data."Female players prioritize emotional resonance over mere numerical progression.

Your team's focus has been misplaced."

"But restructuring would take considerable time-"

"Time isn't the issue. Direction is." I leaned forward, letting my authority fill the frame. "Form a specialized user experience team. Focus on emotional design elements. We're not just creating a game; we're creating emotional value."

"Yes, sir. I'll adjust the team immediately."

As the call ended, my eyes caught on one of the character designs.The artwork was technically proficient but lacked something essential- that spark of warmth that made Annie's illustrations so captivating.I remembered Lucy's words about her mother's drawings, how they made her feel safe and understood.

Before I could second-guess myself, I was already walking toward Annie's studio. The door was ajar, soft afternoon light spilling across her workspace. She sat at her desk, completely absorbed in her work, pencil moving with confident strokes across the paper.

"Annie?" My voice came out softer than intended. "Do you have a moment?"

She looked up, and the sight of her - cheeks slightly flushed from concentration, a smudge of graphite on her chin-made my chest tighten. "I'd like your opinion on something." I approached her desk, tablet in hand. "It's a gaming project we're developing, targeted at female users.The character designs aren't connecting as they should." Annie took the tablet, her fingers moving expertly across the screen. "The proportions are technically correct, but the emotional elements are missing."She began sketching, quick strokes transforming the rigid design. "See how softening these lines changes the entire feeling? And the eyes-they need to invite connection, not just observe."

I watched her work, mesmerized by her quiet confidence. This was Annie in her element - professional, insightful, absolutely brilliant. The same woman who had transformed Lucy's world, who had somehow worked her way past my own carefully constructed walls.

The familiar scent of lilacs teased my senses as I leaned closer, supposedly to study her modifications. "The key is understanding what users truly need?"

"Exactly." She turned slightly, and suddenly we were inches apart. "It's about creating an emotional bridge, making them feel-"

My hand moved of its own accord, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. She froze, eyes widening at the contact.

"Would you consider joining the project team and you can publish your work through our company?" The words came out rough with everything I was trying not to say. I miss you. I need you. I love-

Her lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, I almost confessed everything- how my hasty proposal had been about so much more than Lucy's welfare, how she'd become as essential to me as breathing, how the thought of tonight's dinner with Catherine made me physically ill because she wasn't- My phone buzzed again. Wilson, probably with questions about the restructuring. The moment shattered like fine crystal. Annie pulled back first, professional mask sliding into place. "I should review these designs more thoroughly before making any decisions."

I nodded, my own CEO persona providing familiar shelter. But as I headed back to my room to preparefor tonight's unwanted dinner, my hand still tingled where it had touched her skin.

Mother would be pleased with my compliance regarding Catherine, but she'd never understand. How could she, when I barely understood it myself?In the boardroom. I could orchestrate million-dollar deals without breaking a sweat. Yet here I was, undone by a simple touch, unable to tell the woman I loved the three words that mattered most.

The delicate lace still lay hidden in my pocket, a reminder of everything I stood to lose if I couldn't find the right words soon.