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Eight years ago, Marissa had been brave enough to bare her heart and reveal her feelings for me, an act of courage that left her hurt.
Now, it's my turn to step into the vulnerability she'd once braved, to lay my own heart on the line. This is my moment to let her know the depth of my feelings, to risk it all for the chance at something real.
"Thanks, Chris," I say, my voice filled with determination. "I know what I have to do."
Chapter 27
Marissa
Bryce has been acting differently lately, and I can't quite put my finger on it.
One morning, I'm rummaging through my handbag for my lipstick when my fingers brush against something unfamiliar. Frowning, I pull out a small, folded piece of paper. What's this?
I unfold it carefully, and my heart skips a beat as I recognize Bryce's handwriting. "Your smile outshines the sun. Never stop lighting up the world," it reads. I stare at the note, heat rushing to my cheeks.
When did he even slip this into my bag? And why? I can't help but smile, even as confusion swirls within me.
Another day, I trudge up the stairs to the apartment, exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. All I want is to collapse on the couch and forget about the stressful day I've had. But as I open the door, I'm greeted by an unexpected sight.
A vibrant bouquet of sunflowers sits on the entryway table, their bright petals a burst of sunshine in the otherwise dim room. Sunflowers. My favorite. I mentioned it once to Bryce, months ago, in passing.
I never expected him to remember. A warmth blooms in my chest as I lean in to inhale their sweet scent, a smile tugging at my lips.
And then there's the evening I come home to find the living room transformed into an impromptu movie theater. The lights are dimmed and a projector lights up one blank wall with the opening credits of an old romantic comedy—one I've mentioned loving for its laugh-out-loud humor and heartfelt moments. There's a soft blanket spread out on the floor with an array of pillows for comfort.
Bryce, who confessed he's not one for rom-coms, is there waiting for me with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and my favorite soda. He smiles awkwardly as I step in, watching my reaction closely.
"I know it's not really your thing, but you mentioned once that this was a film you could watch over and over," he says, gesturing to the projector. "Figured it could take your mind off the heavy stuff for a couple of hours."
I can't deny the fact that Bryce's gestures are having an impact on me. Maybe there's more to our relationship than I initially thought. Maybe there's something real brewing beneath the surface.
But as much as I want to believe that Bryce's intentions are genuine, a part of me can't help but wonder if it's all just a facade, if he's just putting on a show to keep up appearances. After all, our marriage is still just a charade, a fake union meant to appease the public and protect his career.
I step into the apartment after an exhausting day at work, and the aroma of something delicious wafts through the air, instantly lifting my spirits. I follow the scent to the kitchen, where I find Bryce standing over the stove, a look of intense concentration on his face as he stirs a pot.
"Bryce?" I call out, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. "What's going on? What's with all the cooking?"
Bryce turns to face me, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Marissa," he says, his tone casual. "I thought I'd surprise you with a home-cooked meal tonight. I know I'm not much of a cook, but I wanted to try my hand at making your favorite dish."
I blink at him, surprised. Bryce Alston, cooking? For me? I approach the stove, peering into the pot. The sauce looks creamy and delicious, flecked with bits of pancetta. "It smells amazing," I say, glancing at him. "What's the occasion?"
Bryce shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes as he gestures to the table, which is set with candles and soft music playing in the background. "It's no big deal," he says casually, though I can see the hint of pride in his eyes. "I just wanted to do something special for you."
I stare at him, trying to process this sudden shift in behavior. First the note, then the flowers, and another home-cooked meal? What's gotten into him?
"Well, I appreciate it. It's been a long day, and this is exactly what I needed."
As we sit down to eat, Bryce regales me with stories about his attempts at cooking, each one more amusing than the last. I can't help but laugh at his antics, feeling a sense of comfort and ease settle over us as we share this intimate moment together.
"Marissa, I want to visit our old secret spot. Do you mind coming sometime?" Bryce leans across the table, his gaze locked on mine.
My heart skips a beat, a flutter of anticipation and nervousness swirling in my chest. There's something in his eyes, a vulnerability I've never seen before.
What could he possibly want to talk about at our old secret spot? The place where we shared so many childhood memories, where our friendship first blossomed into something more.
"Of course," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Chapter 28