My leg restlessly bounced up and down as I watched my pitch black phone screen. It was over an hour, but Chloe hadn't updated me about anything that was happening at the mansion.

Anxiety crawled up my body everytime I tried to imagine Maeve's reaction upon seeing her mother after all these years.

What if she was not ready for it? What if I had rushed things?

What if I had fucked up again?

Damnit.

I leaned back on my seat and closed my eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The look on Maeve's face before I left was enough to grant me one night of peaceful sleep. She didn't look like she loathed me with all her might. Or like she would be anywhere away rather than around me. I thought I even saw a hint of my Maeve in her eyes. Those entrancing brown eyes that bewitched me everytime I gazed a little longer into them.

But that was before I'd left. I wasn't sure she would still look at me like that if bringing her mother to her was a wrong decision. Because if it was, I was a lost cause.

A groan rumbled out of my chest.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When I had first met Mary at the shelter home and told her I was Maeve's friend, I could tell by the look on her face that she longed for her daughter. She'd readily told me everything from the day they were abandoned by her husband, to the day she had her last fight with Maeve. After which she had never seen her again.

Michael had narrated the rest of the story over the call last week, about how he had met Maeve at the club and offered to be his contractual wife (Only Michael Freaking Black would go to a strip club to look for a wife. Creative.)

Maeve was obviously overwhelmed by everything that was going wrong in her life. Of not having any source of love and affection, or someone to call family, so she jumped in at the first opportunity she saw, to get away from her old life.

My heart clenched painfully when I learned from Michael that she never accompanied him to any family gathering or parties. He said he didn't know why.

But I knew. Because she didn't want to run into me. Afraid I'll recognize the girl I met at the club then fuc—

Breathe in. Breathe out.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I quickly straightened on the seat to check.

: Everything's cool here ;)

Hallelujah! An invisible weight lifted off my shoulders and my chest heaved a long breath.

"Oh, God. Thank you." I slumped back with a relieved huff, feeling much lighter than I was a week before.

"You're most welcome."

Mmm. That voice.

Wait, that voice—

I bolted up from my seat in a speed I didn't know I possessed, eyes wide and fists clenched.

I recognized that voice. I would recognize it in a room full of similar voices, because none of the others would have sent shocks coursing down my spine like this one.

Maeve stood at the door, one hand against the doorframe, the other on her hips, a little smile playing at her lips. "Hey Doc."

"Maeve?" her name came out of my lips in a breathless question. As if trying to figure out whether it was really her or another one of my daydreams.

"The one and only." She sent a quick wink flying my way, then leaned away from the door and walked in, swaying her hips a little more than she usually did.

I aimlessly reached up to pinch myself, and flinched.

Okay. Not a dream.

But wait—

"Maeve, what are you doing here?" She should have been with her mother. Making up for all the time they were not together. Or had Chloe misinterpreted the situation?

Her fingers trailing along the edge of my desk halted, and dark eyes shifted to me before slightly narrowing.

"You sound disappointed. Do you want me to leave?"

My mouth gaped. I wanted to say no, but me and my tongue were frozen in place. This was all happening a little too fast. She was here, and she didn't look mad. Instead, she looked like the old Maeve.

She looked like my Maeve.

When I failed to answer, she came closer, a familiar scent —one that my lungs were missing and my heart was craving— enveloped me. A pale hand slid up my chest and shoved me back down on my seat. The metal joint creaked under the force as Maeve leaned over me, hands braced on the armrest on either side.

Once again, like every single time I looked at her, I was mesmerized, entranced. Falling a little more.

My beautiful enchantress.

Her lips hovered over my temple then softly pressed against it. Cold and soft.

I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips. I had missed her. God, I had missed her. So fucking much that I could just reach up and pull her into my chest, but my limbs refused to move. God knew how badly I had craved to hold her in my arms for the last few restless nights.

Her lips brushed down my eyes, nose, cheeks and jaws. Close, but not really touching. One of my hands unfroze from where they rested in my lap, and reached for her hip as my eyes shut against the warmth spreading across my body.

"Ian?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."

My hand froze at her side, eyes peeled open to lock with her glossy brown ones staring down at me. As soon as our eyes locked together, my jaws clenched so hard that my gums hurt.

Had I heard that right?

"What did you say?"

Maeve licked her lips and gulped heavily. "I love you."

Even before she finished saying the words, I was upright again, hovering over her like a shadow.

Oh, to be Maeve Adams' shadow.

Focus here, asshole!

If what I heard was what she said, I was seconds away from losing my goddamn mind. And if it was not what she said, then I'd probably already lost it.

I took one careful step forward, not breaking my eyes away from hers. Maeve stepped back. "Say it again."

She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. The boldness and sass from earlier drained from her face right before my eyes and internally, I was grinning. Every step I took forward, she backed away.

Oh, sweetheart...

I circled a hand around her waist before she could step away again, and pulled her to me. "Say it."

I pulled her close, our fronts flush against each other. Because if I did not feel her against me, I was going to die. I would. I had not even realized when she had become the air I breathed until I lost her, and it felt like every breath that came without her was not mine. I had not realized when she had reached inside me and built a new space for her in my chest, until she left, and all that remained was a looming emptiness and an echoing voice which begged for her.

Maeve snaked her arms around my neck, ice cold fingers slipping into my hair and tugging my face closer to hers.

She was in my arms. I was breathing her scent. The voice in my chest had fled as soon as I felt her warmth crawling into my heart. "Say it, sweetheart. Please..."

"Ian," she breathed. "I...I love you," her teeth clamped down on her lips, and a line ceased between her brows.

I pressed my forehead against her, tightening my grip around her middle.

For fucks sake-

"I love you, Maeve." I whispered, afraid if I said it out loud, someone would steal her from me. Maeve stilled, leaning away to look at me. "I am in love with you, Maeve Adams. And it's so intense, it scares me." I gulped dryly. "I can't witness— forget witness, I can't fucking bare the mere thought of seeing you with someone else. How can you be..." I brought her hand up and pressed it against my chest, over my heart. "How can you be anywhere else when you've always been here?"

Maeve stared at the back my hand holding hers over my chest for a moment. Then raised her teary eyes to me. "Oh, Ian..." She reached up and pressed her lips against mine, desperately pulling me closer.

Unable to help it, I groaned against her lips and hoisted her up before settling her over my desk. Her fingernails grazed my scalp in an oh-so-familiar manner, sending a jolt straight down to my toes. My tongue tipped out and grazed her lower lips. She readily granted me access. Readily let me in.

She always let me in whenever I asked. However, in my case, she didn't need permission.

She owned me. Body and soul.

Maeve pushed at my chest and pulled away to catch a breath. Eyes closed, head tipping back with a smile. I buried my face in her neck and inhaled deeply.

"Christ, I missed this." I rasped, nipping at her collarbone. "I missed you."

That's it. I was not letting that scent disappear from my system again. I was not letting her go. Not now. Not again. Not ever.

That's fucking it.

Maeve Adams was mine and no one could tell me otherwise. Not even herself.

"Ian," her voice urged my eyes up again. She looked at me like she had just found a reason to live. Or maybe I was just seeing the reflection of my own emotions on her face. "I'm sorry. I...I should have told you everything. But I was so scared of losing you. I couldn't lose you, Ian. It was so painful seeing you walk away from me that night. Every worse thing I had ever imagined was taking form right before my eyes. And I was afraid of losing myself with you. That's why I pushed you away." A tear rolled down her flushed cheeks. "But I don't think I can do that anymore."

I kissed away the wetness from her eyes, before bringing my lips against her forehead. "Whenever I said you're mine, I meant it, Maeve. I want you, in good and bad. I was an asshole for walking away instead of sitting and listening to your side of story. I hope you can forgive me for that."

"There's nothing to forgive." She pressed her lips against mine, then smiled. "We're good?"

"We're good." I pecked her lips.

"And you love me?"

"I love you."

"So will you fuck me."

"I will fuc—" My face went blank, and Maeve threw her head back into a laughter, making me aware of a sound I was longing to hear for so many days.

"Your face, Ian," she giggled, then ruffled my hair.

Gosh, this woman was going to be the end of me.

"Maeve Adams," I thrusted her body into my arms and a surprised gasp escaped her lips. "I hope you have no plans for tomorrow, because you will not be leaving my bed anytime soon." I tugged her earlobe between my teeth, and rasped against her ears. "Neither will you be able to walk straight."

A sheepish smile with a red tint on her cheeks bloomed across her face. "Oh, I look forward to it, Doc." Her hand slid down and pressed against my chest, feeling my racing pulse. Her eyes softened. "I love you, Ian."

"I love you, Maeve." I smiled back, before pulling her into my chest and burying my face in her hair. And it felt just right. Like it was meant to be.

Holding the one person you loved the most was like holding the entire universe in your arms. It filled every void. Every missing fragment in your life, until you became a complete piece. Two fused into one.

I think it was rightly said that what didn't belong in your past, always found a way back into your present. Because when you keep running into the remnants from your history, either bygones are chasing you, or you are chasing bygones.

In this story, I'm pretty sure it was the latter one.