Page 27 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Leap

The city never slowed down.

Even when she did.

Lyric stood in the middle of her boutique, surrounded by movement—staff coming and going, Kat chattering with a customer, the soft hum of indie music mixed with the occasional ding of the register. It was everything she had worked for. Everything she had dreamed of.

And yet, she was tired.

Not just physically—though her back ached and her feet throbbed—but somewhere deeper. A kind of tired that lived in her bones and sat behind her eyes like a fog she couldn’t quite blink away.

She smiled, nodded, answered questions, signed invoices. But her mind kept slipping to Kai. Or more accurately—the absence of him.

When she got home last night to tell him the news, she’d accidentally fallen asleep waiting for him. He hadn’t woken her.

And he’d left early again this morning. Earlier than usual. A soft kiss on her forehead and the faint scent of his cologne were all that lingered. He always said he had early meetings, deadlines, projects.

And she missed him .

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together. Or even a lazy afternoon curled up on the couch.

Even intimacy had become rushed. Quiet. A half-hearted grasp at closeness neither of them had time to feel.

Their time had become fragments. Pieces. A kiss here. A shared glance there. Promises whispered in passing.

Even when he was home, he wasn’t. His phone buzzed constantly. He paced the bedroom with calls at midnight. Always apologizing. Always assuring her it would slow down soon.

But it never did.

She closed the boutique an hour early that day—something she never did—and took a cab home, watching the lights of Manhattan blur through the glass.

Her hand came to rest on her stomach, without thinking.

The baby hadn’t changed much physically yet, but something inside her had.

Emotionally, she already felt different.

More protective.

More unsure.

More hopeful.

---

The penthouse was quiet when she entered. Kai wouldn’t be home for another hour. She slipped off her shoes and stood by the window, looking out at the glittering skyline. She loved this city. She was proud of what she’d built here.

But lately, it all felt... fast.

Too fast.

It was early September. Her heart sank when she realized she’d forgotten Kai’s birthday—August 28 th .

But what hurt more, was remembering her own birthday, back in April. She hadn’t forgotten it then. She’d waited all day for him to remember.

He never did.

She didn’t fault him for that. Not now.

He had been working so hard, he was so exhausted… and now, she truly understood .

But she didn’t want this life for her baby. Their baby.

She thought of her childhood—not the trauma that followed later, but the early years. Her parents sitting on the porch with tea. Her mother braiding her hair while her father read the paper beside them. There had been love there. Routine. Presence.

That’s what she wanted for her child. Not a blur of meetings and deadlines. Not long stretches of silence between text messages. She wanted family dinners. Fireflies in backyards. Laughing over nothing.

She pressed her hand against her belly and whispered, “You deserve everything good.”

The door opened behind her. Kai’s voice filled the space like light.

“You’re home early.”

She turned to him and smiled, “So are you.”

He stepped inside, shaking off his coat, his hair a little windswept from the breeze. He looked tired—but happy to see her.

She opened her mouth to say something—to finally give him the news.

But he was too excited to share his own thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, walking toward her. “I have an idea. But let’s sit first.”

Kai poured two glasses of wine before joining her on the couch, his movements strangely careful—as if the weight of whatever he was about to say made everything around him more fragile.

He handed her a glass but didn’t speak right away. Instead, he studied her.

She politely refused the wine.

He noticed the tiredness in her eyes. The way she still tried to smile like everything was okay.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said quietly.

“You’ve been carrying so much,” he added with a faint grin.

“You’re holding everything together, running yourself into the ground, and still trying to smile through it all.

But this life—it’s eating you alive, Lyric.

You were made for more than just surviving.

You were made for something softer than this chaos. ”

Lyric’s heart fluttered. She wasn’t used to him noticing those things.

Not lately.

“I love what I do,” she said, trying to brush it off. “It’s just... a lot right now. But it’ll level out.”

He shook his head slowly. “That’s not what I want for you. We can have a better life…together.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, like he needed to anchor himself before letting the next part out.

“I talked to my mother.”

That caught her off guard. He never talked about his family.

“She’s been sick,” he continued. “Nothing urgent, just... aging stuff. She’s alone in that big house and it’s getting harder for her to manage.

I’ve been thinking—what if we went there?

Just for a while. Maybe longer. It’s the house I grew up in—huge old estate, acres of land, gardens, staff to help with anything.

It’s not like we’d be cramped. We’d have our own wing. ”

Lyric blinked. “You mean... leave New York?”

He nodded, then reached for her hand. “I know it’s sudden. But hear me out.”

He squeezed her fingers gently. “You’re running yourself into the ground. And I hate being pulled away all the time too. What are we even doing this for? Money? Status? We already have everything we need.”

She looked down at their hands, his thumb brushing small circles against her skin.

“You’d really leave your company?” she asked.

“I don’t need it. I’ve been telling myself I was working for the future—but what kind of future am I building if I’m never around to see it? I have more than enough money for a thousand futures.”

Her throat tightened.

“I want to be with you,” he said. “To slow down. To cook dinner together. To walk the gardens and feel the seasons change. To raise a family in peace, not traffic and emails. I want a family, Lyric! ”

A dream. That’s what it sounded like.

And yet...

“My store,” she whispered. “I’d have to let it go. It hasn’t even been open a month.”

He didn’t flinch. “You’d have to let this version of it go. But you’re still the designer. Still the heart. You can sketch from anywhere. You can still send your work to the atelier. You’ll have time, space, calm. And you can do it at your own pace.”

Her silence stretched. She imagined closing the boutique. Taking down the sign. Handing Kat a final paycheck. Folding the clothes she designed with trembling hands, knowing she was walking away from everything she built.

And yet, the future Kai painted—felt safer.

Softer.

It didn’t ask her to juggle every piece of herself until she shattered.

He tilted his head, as if sensing the storm inside her. “I’ve been thinking about something else too.”

She looked up.

“I want to marry you, Lyric. I want that life with you. I’ve always wanted that.”

Her breath caught. Not because it was unexpected—but because of how easily it slipped into the dream. It made everything feel final. Real. Sealed.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

His eyes widened in shock. Then, without hesitation, he picked her up and hugged her tightly.

“When? How far along? This is perfect!” He didn’t even try to hide his excitement.

The pure joy in his reaction melted her.

All of her defenses lowered.

He kissed her knuckles. “I want to give you everything. And I want our baby to have our name. Our home. Raising a baby at my family estate is the right thing to do.”

She felt herself slipping.

Willingly. Stupidly. Softly .

But a flicker of fear caught in her chest. What if she was making a mistake? What if giving up the life she’d built meant losing herself?

She pressed her hand protectively over her belly.

She remembered Callie’s words— “Don’t let him push you into giving up something that you love.”

But she loved him more.

And she loved her baby more.

Because the truth was—she didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to struggle. She didn’t want to keep running a race just to prove she could.

He was offering her rest.

A life.

Love.

And maybe... maybe that was worth everything else.

She nodded slowly, the words sticking in her throat.

“Then yes,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”