The meal that should have taken mere minutes stretched into an hour. Stella nibbled at her food, her thoughts racing as she tried to piece together a solution. Jackson's words earlier hadn't given her the reassurance she'd hoped for, yet his calm demeanor hinted at an unspoken understanding. He wasn't saying much, but his actions spoke volumes.
She had hoped Jackson would be the person to help her, and truthfully, she couldn't think of anyone else who could.
She understood all too well that Jackson's background was worlds apart from her own. She also knew her family would stop at nothing to tear them apart. Yet, as her assistant Becky had wisely pointed out, "Jackson is too refined for a bartender." Whether he measured up to her family's lofty standards or not wasn't the issue. After all, She still held the title of the icy queen.
If her family decided to oust her from the business, she wouldn't flinch. In fact, she might even welcome it. She had been their cash cow for far too long, and the idea of taking a leave of absence held its own allure. Her only regret would be her mother, whose untimely death was indirectly tied to the very company she now helmed. That, above all, was the lingering shadow she couldn't escape.
Across the table, Jackson watched her, his own thoughts clouded. Gently, he reached out and took her hand, his touch grounding her spiraling emotions.
"Stella," he began, his voice steady and firm, "whatever decision you make, make sure it isn't out of haste. Take your time and think it through with a clear mind."
Stella nodded, but deep down, fear gnawed at her. She knew her family well enough to understand what they were capable of—especially her grandfather. The pressure weighed heavily on her, and it was hard not to feel like she was running out of time.
After the meal, she retreated into the room, needing a moment to herself. Jackson remained in the living room, standing by the window and staring out at the glowing city lights. His thoughts swirled with Stella's proposal, and he couldn't help but feel conflicted.
He had come to the city with a purpose—to uncover the truth about his past, to understand why he had been left at an orphanage. A marriage contract with Stella could complicate everything, derail his plans. But then again, the thought of her turning to another man for help gnawed at him in ways he didn't fully understand.
If I let her go, who will she turn to? he wondered, a faint pang of jealousy sparking in his chest.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. This isn't a loss for me either, he reasoned. I'll agree to it, and whatever comes after the one year… I'll deal with it when the time comes.
As the night wore on, Jackson retired to the sofa, determined to get some rest. But before long, he noticed Stella's silhouette at the bedroom door. She was wide awake, her face betraying her anxiety.
"Can't fall asleep?" Jackson asked, amused.
She stepped out, her eyes filled with an expectation she couldn't quite place. Why was he so calm? Most men would have jumped at the offer, eager to seize the opportunity. Doubt crept into her mind, whispering questions about whether her request was too much to ask, whether her condition truly justified it.
Before she could voice her thoughts, Jackson leaned in slightly and flicked her forehead lightly. The unexpected gesture made her blink in surprise, snapping her out of her spiral of doubt.
"What are you worried about?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I accept your proposal."
Stella froze, her mind struggling to process his words. "You… what?"
"I said I accept your proposal. Or are you scared now and thinking of backing out?" he repeated, his tone calm but laced with a hint of challenge.
For a moment, she simply stared at him, disbelief etched across her face. Then, as his words fully sank in, she let out a breath of relief. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Jackson blinked, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. But before he could respond, Stella pulled away and rushed back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.
Inside, she leaned against the door, a triumphant smile tugging at her lips. I need to get the marriage registration book first thing tomorrow, she thought, her mind already racing with plans. I must not let my family know about my plans.
That night, Stella slept soundly, more like a baby than she had in ages. It felt as if the weight of a thousand troubles had been lifted from her shoulders. Though she had made her decision in haste, she believed it wasn't something she would regret. Whether or not regret would come, only the future could tell.
She had made the choice herself, and whatever backlash may come, she was ready to face it head-on.
With a wide grin on her face, she sang herself to sleep, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
Back in the living room, Jackson shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "What a whirlwind," he muttered, slumping back onto the sofa. With a resigned sigh, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Sleep had eluded him, his mind preoccupied with the sudden turn of events. He'd accepted her proposal, but doubts lingered. The faint sound of Stella's voice carried through the apartment, breaking his train of thought.
Frowning, he sat up slightly, straining to listen. Was she talking in her sleep? He shook his head, amused. "She must be dreaming about her grand plans," he muttered to himself. The idea of Stella—usually poised and composed—mumbling in her sleep was oddly endearing.
The noise stopped abruptly, and the apartment returned to silence. Jackson lay back down, staring out the window at the faint glow of city lights. His thoughts wandered to the new life they were about to embark on—a hidden marriage, a life of secrecy. It wasn't exactly what he had envisioned when he came to the city.
Yet, as unconventional as the situation was, he felt an odd sense of determination. "This might be crazy," he whispered to the empty room. "But for now, it's my crazy."
With that, he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would claim him before morning. As a faint smile tugged at his lips, he murmured to himself, "Guess I'll savor this last night as a single man," before letting the darkness of slumber take over.