Walker stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, arms crossed, watching the clouds roll past the skyline. The storm outside mirrored the one inside him—a churning blend of hope and anxiety. He hadn't heard from Lena since he left her bakery. Her eyes had haunted him every second since. There had been something different in them this time… not coldness. Not even anger. Just heartbreak wrapped in hesitation.
Logan stepped in, holding a tablet. "The investor calls are ready. You've got Parker & Lieman at ten, and Decker's assistant just confirmed for noon."
Walker barely nodded. "Push Parker to tomorrow. Reschedule Decker."
Logan raised a brow. "All of them?"
"I have something more important to handle." Walker's voice was low, calm—but firm.
He waited until Logan left, then pulled his phone from his pocket. No new texts. No calls. He ran a hand down his face and dialed Lena's number again, letting it ring until voicemail picked up.
"Lena… it's me. I know I've said everything I could, but I'll keep saying it until you believe it. I love you. Not her. Not what she represents. Just you."
He hung up and turned back to his desk, but before he could sit, the private elevator chimed. A second later, the doors opened—and there she was.
Lena.
Hair pulled back in a soft twist, wearing a pale blue sweater and jeans, clutching her purse like a lifeline. Her eyes met his, and Walker's breath caught.
"Tell me again," she said quietly.
He moved slowly toward her. "That I love you?"
She nodded, tears already brimming. "Say it like you mean it."
"I love you," Walker said, the words solid and steady. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
She stepped into his arms without another word, and as soon as he wrapped her up in his embrace, Lena broke. The tears she'd been holding back spilled freely, her shoulders trembling as she clung to him. Her sobs were soft but raw, and Walker tightened his hold, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"I've got you," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
After a long moment, Lena pulled back just enough to look up at him. "I still don't trust Madeline. And I don't trust your world."
"Then don't," he whispered. "Trust me."
Her breath hitched, but she nodded. "I do."
Walker kissed her forehead, then rested his cheek against her hair. He didn't need anything else in that moment. Not a cleared reputation. Not an approval from anyone else. Just this—Lena, in his arms, choosing him despite it all.
In the silence that followed, the line between the world he was born into and the life he truly wanted had never been clearer.
And it began and ended with her.
Lena pulled back slightly, her hand resting on his chest where his heart thudded steadily beneath her palm. "Your parents… they'll never be okay with this, with me. Madeline is everything they think you're supposed to want."
Walker cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear. "My parents raised me to lead, but they forgot to teach me how to live. I've done everything by their book—until you. You're not a detour, Lena. You're the destination."
She let out a shaky breath, some of the weight easing off her chest. "Then let's write our own story. One they can't control. One she can't rewrite."
Walker smiled faintly, pulling her in again. "We already are."