Maya POV
The rooftop was my hiding place.
Ever since the office remodel, barely anyone came up here. It was quiet, except for the wind and the distant sounds of the city humming below. I liked it that way. I could think. Breathe. Cry if I had to.
Tonight, the sun was just starting to set—casting everything in gold and rose. The sky looked like it was blushing. The wind tugged gently at the hem of my blouse, and I wrapped my arms around myself.
Everything had changed.
The presentation. The standing ovation. The looks of respect instead of ridicule.
For the first time in five years, I wasn’t invisible.
But even with all that… there was still one thing left unresolved.
Him.
I closed my eyes, tilting my head to the sky, letting the last rays of light soak into my skin. That’s when I heard the door creak open behind me.
I didn’t have to turn around. I knew it was him.
Noah.
His footsteps were slow and unsure. The wind carried them across the rooftop like a whisper. Still, I said nothing.
I didn’t know what to say. He came to a stop a few feet behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence but far enough that I could walk away if I wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
“I figured I’d find you up here,” he said quietly, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Tim told me this is where you disappear when you want the world to leave you alone.”
I turned slightly, not enough to face him fully, but just enough to meet his eyes.
He looked different under the sunset—less guarded, more human. There was something in his gaze I couldn’t quite name. Regret, maybe. Hope, definitely. Fear… always.
“No dramatic speeches?” I asked, half teasing, half serious.
“No,” he said with a faint smile. “No grand gestures. Just truth.”
He paused. Took a breath.
“I’ve ruined a lot of things in my life, Maya. Relationships. Opportunities. Family. I’ve pushed people away who cared about me. Because it’s easier to burn everything down than admit you need someone to stay.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I ruined things with Alex. With my father. And I almost ruined things with you.”
I turned to him fully now. His eyes were glossy in the fading light.
“But I won’t ruin this,” he whispered.
My heart thudded.
He took a step closer, the wind catching in his jacket. “I won’t run. I won’t lie. And I won’t let you keep thinking I didn’t want you—because I did. I do. Every damn day.”
I swallowed hard, every part of me aching to believe him.
“But you hurt me,” I said honestly, voice trembling. “So many times. And I let you. I let you come close and push me away like I was a button you could press whenever it suited you.”
“I know.” He nodded, shame flickering in his eyes. “And I hated myself for it. I didn’t know how to need someone without destroying them.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn’t even wipe it away.
He stepped even closer now, close enough to touch.
I looked up at him, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Then don’t.”
His breath caught. His hand lifted slowly, as if asking for permission.
I nodded.
And when his palm cradled the side of my face, it felt like the world finally stilled.
There was no rush. No audience. Just us.
He leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against mine. I could feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it was mine. Either way, we were perfectly in sync.
Then his lips met mine.
Slow. Gentle. But full. Full of everything we never said. All the times we almost kissed but didn’t. All the emotions he hid. All the longing I swallowed. All the love we pretended wasn’t there.
His kiss wasn’t perfect. It was a little shaky, a little desperate—but real.
God, it was real.
When we finally pulled apart, I stayed close. Breathing him in. Holding onto that feeling like it might vanish.
He rested his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.”
“I know,” I said.
We stood there in silence, the last rays of the sun sinking behind the skyline. The city started to glow with a thousand lights, but none of them were as bright as the warmth blooming in my chest.
He looked at me again.
Like I was everything. Like I was his. And for the first time, I let myself believe it.
“I think,” I said softly, eyes locked with his, “I was always yours, Noah Sterling.”