But when I checked it in my account, I saw nothing but a blank page. Clearly, he had blocked me.
My heart sank as I quietly blocked Lance in return. I also marked his messages on Howard's phone as unread. Without another word, I headed upstairs to the guest room.
Saying it didn’t hurt would’ve been a lie.
Alone under the covers, tears soaked my pillow as I drifted into a fitful sleep. But even in my dreams, Lance was mocking me, pointing at me and laughing.
“Sienna! You were just a fling. Why would I marry someone like you? A bedmate? An orphan? You think you’re worthy?”
Then the scene shifted with Howard and Maia standing together, then pushed me into an abyss.
I screamed as the dream shattered with the sound of thunder.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here,” a voice soothed.
Clinging desperately to the figure before me, it took a moment for reality to settle in. I had woken from the nightmare, and a thunderstorm was raging outside.
Howard was sitting beside me, his hand gently stroking my back like you’d comfort a frightened child. The clean, woodsy scent of cedar clung to him, fresh and calming, while the warmth of his touch sent my heart racing.
Since my parents passed away, no one had ever held me like this during a thunderstorm.
Even Lance—after five years of a secret relationship—never stayed overnight. He’d always leave after we were done, offering nothing but empty words over the phone: “Sienna, I’ll keep you company… from here.”
But now, at this moment, I found myself selfishly craving Howard’s warmth. His tenderness, so different from the cold, businesslike demeanor he showed others, felt like a fragile treasure.
As my thoughts cleared, I remembered how he had burst into my room at the first clap of thunder.
How did he know I was afraid of storms?
The longer we stayed like this, the more my mind turned to mush. Without thinking, I blurted out, “Howard, would you marry me?”
Unfortunately, a loud crash of thunder drowned my voice, and his response was also muffled due to it, so I couldn’t hear it clearly. But I thought I caught the word “okay.”
When the storm calmed, he finally let go.
Just as I was debating how to ask him to stay longer, he reassured me in a soft voice, “Go to sleep. I’ll stay right here.”
He brought in a blanket and curled up on the small sofa in the corner of the room.
Seeing this six-foot-plus man squeezed into that tiny space, I felt a pang of warmth.