CHAPTER 272: CHAPTER 271: SOULMATES

Even though neither of them said much after that, the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like something sacred... two people sitting with their truths, not needing to explain everything just yet. Monica’s fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on his arm, as if searching for the right words or maybe the courage to say them. Then she slowly leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder.

Her gaze wandered upward, soft and unfocused, like she wasn’t seeing the ceiling but something far beyond it, something distant only she could see.

"I used to look at that kind of life... the picket fences, the happily ever afters, the his-and-hers... and feel nothing but disgust," she began, her voice low and steady, like she was reading from a page written long ago. "Not even fear. Just indifference. I knew early on that I wasn’t made for that kind of comfort. It never tempted me.

I didn’t want a ’man’ to complete me. I didn’t believe in that fairy tale crap. Soulmates. Monogamy. Forever and ever," she scoffed faintly, though without malice. "I always thought... if I give myself fully to someone, they’d only use it as a leash."

There was no anger in her tone, just a tired kind of honesty. She glanced at him, not to see his reaction, but as if offering a piece of herself and waiting to see if he would flinch.

"So I made a choice. No white picket fences. No walking down aisles, no fake smiles in white dresses, no shallow promises to love someone forever when I don’t even know who I’ll be next year, or next week. I didn’t want to be the woman standing beside a man. I wanted to be the storm they warned him about."

Her lips curled into a soft smile, one that carried both pride and something more fragile beneath it.

"I have big dreams, Rex. I want to rule this industry. I want power. Not the borrowed kind that comes from some husband’s name, or a pretty face trending for a moment—but power that’s mine. Real. I want to own every room I walk into. I want to be remembered. I want to outlast them all."

Her voice softened, slowing as if each word took effort now.

"And for a long time, I thought that meant I had to walk alone. That was the price. I accepted that. Embraced it, even. I didn’t want anyone close enough to make me choose between who I am and who they needed me to be."

She paused, and the silence that followed was heavier. Not cold, just real. The kind of silence that happens when someone finally stops pretending.

"But life doesn’t give a damn about our plans, does it?"

Her eyes found his again, softer now, something fragile flickering behind the fire.

"Last night... it wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to walk away. That’s always the plan. It’s how I keep myself from getting caught. But then you looked at me like I was something real. Not a prize to win. Not a stepping stone. Not a challenge to conquer. Just... me."

Her fingers trailed lightly along his collarbone, eyes never leaving his.

"And that’s when I realized... I’d already fallen before we even touched."

She gave a breathless, almost helpless laugh.

"Who would’ve thought? All my talk about being untouchable, about being above all this romantic nonsense... and I end up falling for the one man who didn’t even try to possess me."

Her smile lingered again, but this time it was softer, more subdued, like it belonged only to this moment between them.

"So no, I can’t promise to be a perfect woman. I’m still going to chase what I want. I’ll still burn with ambition. But if I have to fall, Rex..."

She leaned in, lips brushing against his.

"...then let it be with someone who didn’t ask me to kneel first."

Rex sat still for a long second, her words settling over him like the slow hush of a storm passing. He didn’t speak right away, didn’t offer pretty reassurances or promises he couldn’t keep.

She didn’t want to be someone’s forever. She didn’t believe in fairy tales or walking down aisles. And yet, despite all that, she had chosen to stay. Chosen him.

He leaned his head back slightly, a quiet breath leaving his chest.

"You know... I always thought love was a scam too," he said, voice low, not looking at her but somewhere beyond the ceiling, as if trying to pick the words from the cracks. "Not because I was hurt or anything dramatic. Just... I’d seen what it did to people. How it made them settle, shrink, pretend. I thought it was just another story sold to keep people tame."

He paused, glancing down at her hand resting lightly over his.

"But hearing you say all that, it doesn’t make me want to run. It makes me feel like, finally, I’m not the only one who sees the world for what it really is."

He turned to face her fully now, his voice softer but steadier.

"I don’t need someone to complete me, Monica. I don’t want to own you, fix you, or turn you into anything you’re not. And I don’t want that from you either. I just... want to walk beside you. However long it lasts."

Monica felt a quiet satisfaction settle within her, like something inside had finally found its place. His words hadn’t been dramatic or grand, but they held weight, the kind that lingers long after it’s spoken. Something about the way he saw her, accepted her without flinching, made her feel less alone in a world she had always braced herself against.

She let that comfort sink in, her walls softening. Then, without hesitation, she shifted closer and rested her head against his chest. The warmth of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, it calmed her in a way nothing else ever had.

Lying there together, tangled in the quiet aftermath of truth, it didn’t feel like the beginning of something fragile or fleeting. It felt like two storms learning how to rest in each other’s calm.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was full—peaceful. But after a beat, Monica’s voice stirred again, soft and thoughtful, as if voicing something that had been quietly building inside her.

"Honestly... isn’t it weird?" she said, her words muffled slightly by the rise and fall of his chest. "We’ve only just met, but we’ve been talking like we’ve already spent an eternity together. Like we’ve known each other for a long time."

She tilted her head slightly, eyes lingering on his face, searching—not for answers, but for confirmation of something she was already beginning to feel.

"I don’t know why, but everything just clicks. No pretending, no pressure. Just... us. Like something in the universe lined up for a moment and brought two people together who were never meant to meet, but still did."

"Maybe this is what people call soulmates," he said with a soft smile, the words slipping out before he could think twice.

Monica scoffed, rolling her eyes as her fingers absently traced lazy circles against his skin.

"Humph. I don’t believe in that soulmate crap," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real bite. "It just means we...w-we... we’re in the right state of mind. That’s all. Everyone else is just too delusional, too desperate, or too distracted to see things clearly."

Her words stumbled a little near the end, like she was arguing with herself more than him.

Rex chuckled, low and warm, his chest rising slightly beneath her.

"Right. Totally not soulmates," he teased.

(End of Chapter)