Chapter 21

Freya's POV 

I heard the front door click shut just as I was pulling the lasagna out of the oven and the cupcakes Lucy and I left for Brandon. The familiar creak of Brandon’s leather shoes across the perfectly polished floors made my heart lift, even if I wouldn’t admit it out loud. I didn’t have to turn around to know he was loosening his tie, shedding the sharp corporate armor he wore every day like second skin.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. He was in the doorway now, a tired smile tugging at his lips, his hair slightly disheveled from running his hands through it—something he did when he was stressed or lost in thought.

“Traffic gods were on my side for once,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my temple, his hands brushing lightly over my waist. “Something smells amazing.”

“Lasagna,” I said, sliding the dish onto the counter. “With extra cheese. Figured you could use the comfort carbs.”

“You figured right.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I caught it immediately. “Tough day?”

He hesitated for a second, then exhaled through his nose and walked over to the cabinet to grab plates. “You could say that.”

I waited. Brandon wasn’t one to overshare right away, but he always came around eventually.

We settled at the dining table. I poured him a glass of red wine, my own already half-full. We started eating in silence, but I could feel the tension in him—quiet and coiled, like a thread pulled too tight.

It was unusual for him to be this quiet especially since we started getting along very well.

He finally set his fork down and looked at me. “I ran into Bryan today.”

I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. The name alone made my stomach twist. “At your office?”

He nodded. “Apparently, he seemed like it was an accident seeing me but we only usually saw in the board room, our floors and management are relatively different, so this was new to me, seeing him on our floor.”

“Still.” I put my fork down, too. “Did he talk to you?”

“Yeah. Briefly. Civil. Too civil, actually.” Brandon leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the wine glass. “Rachel was the topic.”

Of course she was.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but the tightness in my chest betrayed me. “Did he say anything about the fight?”

“Yea, he said alot of bullshit anyways. Then that smile. You know that smug, smug smile he does when he knows you want to punch her but you won’t because you have manners?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He exhaled again. “I don’t want you around them, Freya.”

The way he said it—quiet but firm—made something inside me shift. My first instinct was to nod, to agree, to push it all away. But I knew Brandon. And I knew that tone. There was more coming.

He took a sip of wine, then set the glass down carefully. “I’ve been thinking… it might be a good idea to send you abroad for a while.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Just for a few weeks. Maybe a month. You’ve been saying you wanted to visit Italy again, haven’t you? I could book something, somewhere peaceful. A break from all this.”

A break.

I sat back, heart thudding a little too fast. “You want to send me away because you ran into Bryan?”

“It’s not just that,” he said quickly. “You know how Rachel is. And Bryan—he knows how to push buttons. I don’t want them anywhere near you.”

“So your solution is to ship me off like… like I’m luggage?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Brandon’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Really? Because it sounds a lot like you’re trying to hide me.”

He stood up and started pacing, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s not fair, Freya. You know that’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

I rose from my seat, crossing my arms. “I don’t need protection, Brandon. I need respect. I need to be treated like a partner, not a problem to be handled.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face me. “You think I don’t respect you? Freya, I—”

“I think you’re scared,” I interrupted, softer now, but no less honest. “And I get it. Bryan being around again—it’s messy. But pushing me away isn’t the answer. That’s not how we deal with things.”

He stared at me for a long moment, eyes dark and conflicted. I could see the war in him, the tug-of-war between wanting to shield me from every hurt and knowing he couldn’t.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “I’ve faced them before, Brandon. I can do it again. But I need to know you trust me to stand my ground.”

“I do trust you,” he said, almost a whisper. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

“And I get that. But running away—or sending me away—won’t fix that. If anything, it gives them power.”

His shoulders slumped a little. “I hate this.”

“I know.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, then looked at me, eyes softer now. “You’re right. I just… when I saw him today, something in me twisted. Like I was back there again. Watching him trying to start shit in the house. Watching you faint because of the stress it had on the baby.”

I swallowed hard. The past still had teeth, apparently.

“I’m not that girl anymore, besides we have great security here and I have Lucy.” I said gently.

“I know. And I’m proud of you. So damn proud.” He reached out and took my hand. “But if he so much as looks at you the wrong way…”

“I’ll handle it,” I said, squeezing his fingers. “With you by my side.”

He nodded, some of the tension finally draining from his frame. “Okay. No Italy. Unless we go together.”

I smiled, relieved. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

He pulled me in then, arms wrapping around my waist, his chin resting lightly on my shoulder. We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other. The kitchen was quiet except for the ticking of the clock and the distant hum of traffic outside.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” he murmured into my hair. “I just can’t lose you.....I mean the baby.”

“You won’t,” I whispered. “But I can’t let fear decide our lives.”

He pulled back to look at me, his eyes searching mine. “Then we face them together?”

We had been getting closer these past few days and it felt wrong for some reason but still I enjoyed the attention.

“Always.”

He smiled then, a real one this time. And for the first time that evening, the air between us felt lighter.