He Gave Her My Home So I Took Back My Life Chapter 27
Being with Mateo did not mean I immediately knew how to accept respect.
The first time we traveled for work, he booked two adjoining hotel rooms and handed me one of the key cards.
I stared at it for a few seconds.
“You’re not even going to ask if I want to share a room?”
“That’s why I booked two.”
“What if I do?”
He looked at me, his expression serious. “Then are you telling me that now?”
All at once, I couldn’t speak.
When Graham used to let himself into my hotel room with a spare key, I had thought marriage meant boundaries could be crossed at will.
Mateo was showing me that intimacy was not implied consent.
My fingers tightened around the key card.
“Separate rooms tonight.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t look disappointed. He didn’t ask why.
The next day, after a project negotiation, the other party proposed folding the Hale Foundation into one of Ruiz’s organizations to be managed under a single corporate structure.
Everyone at the table seemed to think it was the obvious solution.
Mateo rejected it on the spot.
“Hale is an independent foundation.”
The other party smiled. “But you’re the primary investor, and you’re Ms. Hale’s partner. A merger would be more convenient for both of you.”
“Convenient for whom?”
Mateo closed his contract folder.
“An investment is governed by contract. A personal relationship is personal. Don’t confuse the two.”
On the walk back to the hotel, I was quiet.
He seemed to think I was worried about the deal and started explaining alternative options.
I stopped walking.
“Mateo.”
“What is it?”
“Why do you never ask me to prove that I love you?”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Because love isn’t a debt.”
The streetlights reflected in his eyes.
“I helped you once. I waited for you. I invested in your foundation. None of that earns me your feelings. If you choose to come toward me, that’s your choice. If you don’t, that’s your choice, too.”
My eyes stung.
All my life, people had told me that because the Ashford family took me in, I owed them.
I owed them money, connections, my ancestral home—until, in the end, I was expected to hand over myself.
But the person who truly loved me never used what he gave as leverage to demand more.
I took the second key card from my bag and placed it in his hand.
Mateo glanced down at it but didn’t move.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
This time, no one was opening my door without asking.
I was the one inviting him in.