Chapter 22 - Hannah Walks Away
Six months later, Hannah postponed the wedding.
Victor looked as if someone had shot him.
“What?”
They were standing in the kitchen.
Matthew froze with a spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Oh boy.”
Hannah closed her eyes.
“I need time.”
Victor’s face became unreadable.
“Because of Raymond?”
“No.”
“Eleanor?”
“No.”
“My past?”
“No.”
“Hannah.”
She set down her coffee.
“Because I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Victor stared.
“What does that mean?”
“A year ago, I was working three jobs.”
“I know.”
“I was finishing nursing school.”
“You still are.”
“I was Hannah Moore.”
“You still are.”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“Everywhere I go, I’m Victor Davis’s fiancée.”
Matthew slowly backed away.
“I’m going to school.”
No one stopped him.
Hannah continued.
“The foundation uses my mother’s name. My tuition is covered. My apartment disappeared because I live here. Security follows me to class.”
“I can remove security.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is?”
“I need to know that I chose this life.”
Victor looked wounded.
“You didn’t?”
“I chose you.”
That softened him.
“But everything around you is enormous.”
She gestured toward the penthouse.
“The money. The company. The danger. The headlines. Sometimes I feel like the woman who walked into Romano’s with a cake disappeared.”
Victor stepped closer.
“What do you want?”
“My own apartment.”
He flinched.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are we breaking up?”
“No.”
“Then why postpone the wedding?”
“Because I refuse to marry you while wondering whether I became dependent on the life.”
Victor became very still.
Hannah expected anger.
Instead:
“Okay.”
That nearly broke her.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“I want a wife who chooses me.”
He swallowed.
“Not one who feels purchased.”
Tears filled her eyes.
Victor helped her find a small apartment near Columbia Presbyterian.
Not luxurious.
Safe.
Private.
Hannah paid the rent herself.
She returned the Davis credit card.
Victor hated that.
She worked weekend nursing shifts.
Victor hated that more.
But he respected it.
Matthew visited every Wednesday.
He loved the apartment.
“This kitchen is tiny.”
“Thank you.”
“My bedroom closet is bigger.”
“Get out.”
He laughed.
Victor did not stay overnight.
Not once.
They dated.
Actually dated.
Coffee.
Movies.
Walks.
Ordinary things.
Without bodyguards at the next table whenever possible.
One evening, Hannah asked:
“Do you resent me?”
“Yes.”
She blinked.
Victor smiled.
“For making me use dating apps?”
“You are not using dating apps.”
“I almost had to.”
She laughed.
Then he became serious.
“I miss waking up beside you.”
“I miss you too.”
“But?”
“But now I know missing you doesn’t mean I’m afraid to be alone.”
Victor nodded.
Three months passed.
Hannah completed nursing school.
At graduation, she searched the crowd.
Claire.
Matthew.
Marcus.
Eleanor.
Victor.
All there.
Victor did not send flowers the size of a car.
He gave her one rose.
Inside the card:
You finished what you started.
I’m proud of you.
Hannah cried harder than she had during the entire ceremony.
That evening, she walked into Victor’s penthouse.
He stood.
She placed her apartment key on the table.
His eyes widened.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Victor froze.
Hannah smiled.
“But I know I want to be unsure with you.”
He laughed.
She stepped closer.
“I’m ready to come home.”
Victor kissed her.
Matthew walked in mid-kiss.
“Gross.”
They separated.
He pointed at Hannah’s suitcase.
“You’re back?”
“Yes.”
Matthew cheered.
Then immediately added:
“You still have to make grilled cheese.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You signed a verbal contract.”
Victor looked at Hannah.
“He learned that from lawyers.”
“Clearly.”
That night, Hannah slept beside Victor.
Not because she needed his money.
Not because she needed protection.
Not because she was rescuing him.
Because she had left.
Built her own life.
May you like
And returned.
By choice.
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