chapter2201

Her words tangled Jason's thoughts into a knot of relief, guilt, and longing he could not hope to untie.

"Chelsea, listen." He drew a shaky breath. "Go back to the Rainsworth family. Give me one year. In twelve months, I'll build something that convinces your parents I'm worthy. Then we can be together openly-no more hiding, no more struggle." He yearned to spare her from the grinding poverty of his fledgling dreams.

Chelsea shook her head. "That won't work."

She rose to stand toe-to-toe with him, eyes blazing with conviction.

"Why do you call this suffering? I want to be here—right here—with you. Leaving now is the last thing I want. Do you understand?"

She curled her fingers around his. "If I return home, my parents will drag me into blind dates and a rushed marriage. After that, what chance would we have left?"

"Besides," she added gently, "starting from nothing means you'll never match my family's status in a single year. They still won't approve, Jason."

Her logic was unassailable, and Jason knew it.

Silence enveloped them once more. Jason searched for an answer, but every word dissolved before reaching his tongue.

Chelsea tightened her arms around him once more, her cheek pressed into the warm hollow of his shoulder like it was the last safe place on earth. "I know you're trying to keep me from suffering," she murmured, her voice soft but unwavering. "But I honestly don't care about any of that. What we have right now is already enough already good. Isn't it?"

After a heartbeat of hesitation, Jason lifted his hands and folded them around her slender frame. The gesture was slow, deliberate, as though he were accepting a fragile gift he wasn't sure he deserved.

"Chelsea, have you really thought this through? One day we'll marry, start a family, and once a child arrives, the bills, the sleepless nights, the responsibilities... They'll all multiply. Money and energy will become necessities, not options."

Jason had grown up an orphan, so he understood in his bones how irreplaceable biological parents could be. Because of that, he swore he would never bring a child into the world until he had the savings-and the strength to give it everything he never had.

"I know," she said, her voice catching yet firm. "I'll fight beside you. If we haven't built something solid, then we simply won't get married."

After words that raw, Jason could no longer chase her away. "All right," he murmured.

"Stop talking about breaking up." She pressed a finger to his chest. "If you a keep tossing it out and Factually

Wy, you'll regret it for the rest

of your life."

His Adam's apple slid up and down, the only sign of the storm inside him. "I hear you. I won't say it again."

Only then did Chelsea's shoulders loosen. They stayed locked in that embrace for a long, uncounted moment, neither willing to be the first to let go.

Miles away, Chelsea's parents lay ē awake, worry turning every ticking second into grit. Close to midnight, Elena could bear it no longer she dialed her daughter's number

Chelsea lay alone on her king-size bed and answered, "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Chelsea, come home," Elena pleaded. "Admit you were wrong, divorce Jason, and your father and I will forgive everything."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but I won't divorce him. If you truly love me, let me live my own life," Chelsea quickly said.

"Then listen to me," Elena continued,

vel

her patience fraying. "Enjoy yourself for now, but do not-under any circumstances-get pregnant. Protect yourself, understand? Achild would make regret arrive far toes

late."

SWI

Chelsea knew exactly what her mother feared, so she answered with teasing defiance. "How could I do that? I'm already his wife. Of course, I'll give him a child."

"You silly girl," Kingston called from the extension line at last. "Once there's a baby, regret will be too late."

"Dad, Mom, I won't regret it," Chelsea repeated, steadier than before.

Faced with their daughter's unshakable resolve, her parents had no answer.

Chelsea ended the call and lowered the phone.

She stared at the dark screen for a long, silent stretch, then whispered, "Dad, Mom, I'm sorry."