Chapter 313

Serena’s POV

The worst part was, I understood his frustration.

I’d thrown myself back into work with a vengeance. Most days I was up before dawn sketching designs, taking calls during lunch, and working late into the night after Vivian fell asleep.

"I’m trying to juggle everything," I said, my voice softer. "But you’re asking me to plan another wedding when we’re already married."

"I’m asking you to let me celebrate the fact that I got you back," Ryan countered, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him. "That we found each other again. Is that so unreasonable?"

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. The screen lit up with Cedric’s name, and Ryan’s expression went dark immediately.

"Perfect timing," he muttered.

I silenced the call. "Ryan—"

"No, go for it. Answer it. Lancaster clearly has something earth-shattering to discuss at nine in the evening."

I tossed my phone onto the bed, irritation flaring. "He’s in town for the International Design Summit. We’re both keynote speakers."

"How convenient." Ryan’s voice was thick with sarcasm. "Your former almost-fiancé just happens to be in New York the same week I’m trying to convince my wife to go public with our marriage."

"Just a friend," I corrected sharply. "And I’ve never hidden our relationship. I wear your ring, I live in your home—"

"Our home," he interrupted.

"—our home," I amended. "But most of New York still thinks I’m single or engaged to Cedric thanks to those damn tabloids."

Ryan’s phone pinged, and he glanced at it briefly before tossing it aside with a groan. "Speaking of tabloids," he said, turning his screen toward me.

My stomach plummeted at the headline: "DESIGN DARLINGS REUNITED? Quinn and Lancaster spotted at exclusive NYC restaurant."

The photo showed Cedric and me leaving a business lunch earlier that day, his hand placed innocently on my back as we pushed through paparazzi. Nothing inappropriate, but certainly enough to set tongues wagging.

"It was a business lunch," I said wearily. "With Maya and three other designers."

"Who were conveniently cropped out of the shot." Ryan’s voice was tight. "This is exactly why I want to set the record straight. Have an actual ceremony here. Show everyone that you’re my wife."

"So this is about your ego? Your need to claim your territory?" The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

Ryan’s eyes flashed dangerously. "Is that what you think this is? Some caveman display of ownership?" He laughed bitterly. "Christ, Serena. After everything we’ve been through, do you still not understand?"

He turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The silence between us felt weighted with unspoken words and hurt feelings.

When he finally looked back at me, his expression had softened slightly. "I almost lost you. Multiple times. To bullets, to your past, to your anger—which I totally deserved, by the way." He stepped closer, taking my hands in his. "All I want is to stand in front of everyone we know and promise to never let you go again. Is that really so terrible?"

My anger melted away, replaced by a complicated mix of emotions. "No, it’s not terrible," I admitted quietly. "It’s actually... pretty sweet."

"Sweet?" He arched an eyebrow, clearly hoping for a better adjective.

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. "Romantic?"

"Getting better." His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer.

"But Ryan," I said, placing my palms against his chest, "I have the London opening, then Fashion Week, then—"

"Then Christmas, then New Year’s, then Valentine’s," he finished. "There’s always going to be something, Serena. That’s life."

Vivian’s sudden cry through the baby monitor interrupted us. I stepped back, already moving toward the door.

"I’ll get her," Ryan said, his hand on my arm stopping me. "You chill out. Think about what I said."

As he left to check on our daughter, I sank onto the edge of the bed, picking up my phone. Three missed calls from Cedric, two from Maya, and a text from my brother Ethan asking about tomorrow’s investor meeting.

Everyone wanted a piece of me—my time, my attention, my creativity. And now Ryan wanted a wedding, a public declaration that would steal focus from everything I’d built professionally.

But as I heard his deep voice through the monitor, softly soothing Vivian back to sleep, my resistance began to crumble. He was right—there would always be another deadline, another project, another reason to put it off.

By the time Ryan returned, I’d changed into my nightgown and was sitting cross-legged on the bed with my sketchbook, but not working—just thinking.

"She just needed her pacifier," he said, climbing onto the bed beside me. "And maybe a little reassurance that her parents weren’t about to murder each other."

I winced. "Were we that loud?"

"Probably not," he admitted, "but I still felt guilty."

We sat in silence for a moment before I finally spoke. "I don’t want some big circus. Nothing like Sophie would have wanted."

Ryan stiffened beside me. "This has nothing to do with Sophie."

"I know that," I said quickly, reaching for his hand. "I just meant... if we do this—and I’m not saying yes yet—it would need to be something that feels like us. Not some high-society dog and pony show."

Something shifted in his expression—a softening around his eyes, a hint of hope. "Does that mean you’re considering it?"

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I’ll think about it. But I need you to understand that my work isn’t just something I can drop whenever—"

He silenced me with a kiss, his hands cradling my face with surprising gentleness. "I would never ask you to be less than who you are," he murmured against my lips.

I melted into him despite my best intentions, my sketchbook sliding forgotten to the floor. "And I need you to understand that Cedric is just a colleague now," I said when we broke apart. "There’s nothing—"

"I know," he interrupted, pressing his forehead to mine. "I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust."

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not married to him, isn’t it?"

Ryan’s answering smile was wolfish as he guided me back against the pillows. "Exactly my point, Mrs. Blackwood. And soon, everyone else will know it too."

As his lips found mine again, more insistent this time, I decided the wedding discussion could wait until morning. Or maybe the afternoon. Some battles weren’t worth fighting, especially when surrender felt this good.