Chapter 2210

In that instant, Kingston’s perception of the young man shifted.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you certain?”

If that agreement were signed, Jason would gain nothing material from marrying Chelsea. In the event of a divorce, he would walk away with nothing.

Jason nodded without hesitation. “I’m certain. Give me Chelsea, and I’ll accept any condition.”

His voice softened, sincerity threading through every word. “And if you’re willing to trust me, I’ll honor you and Phoebe as my own parents.”

Kingston fell quiet. It wasn’t refusal—just caution. Is the boy truly this genuine? Even he didn’t know the answer.

Years in business had taught Kingston to recognize the shadows in every human heart.

“All right,” he said at last. “Spend this year building a real relationship with Chelsea. If you’re still inseparable by then—and your career is finally on track—I’ll give my blessing.”

He paused, his tone firming. “But before the wedding, you will sign the agreement. That’s non-negotiable.”

Jason answered before the echo of Kingston’s words had faded. “Absolutely.”

Kingston and Phoebe offered Chelsea a few gentle reminders, then stepped out, quietly closing the door behind them and leaving the young couple alone in the stillness that follows a decision.

Relief flooded Chelsea’s chest. The weight pressing on her heart finally lifted.

“Dad said yes. We can really be together now. Isn’t that amazing?” She smiled brightly. “And you’re officially banned from ever bringing up breaking up again. Deal?”

Jason smiled back. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her hospital bed, his knees brushing the crisp sheets.

“I need to figure out how to make serious money,” he murmured, determination sharpening his expression. “I swear you’ll never regret choosing me.”

Chelsea’s eyes lit up, her lashes curving like soft commas.

“I’ll swing by the office, grab my laptop, and work from here,” Jason added, already halfway to standing. “It’ll make it easier to take care of you.”

Chelsea caught his wrist. “Wait.”

Jason blinked. “What’s wrong?”

“I need the bathroom,” she whispered, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

With her parents hovering earlier, she’d been too embarrassed to say anything.

Jason slipped an arm around her shoulders and nodded. “Okay. Let me help.”

He carefully lifted her from the bed, supporting her weight as they shuffled in small, cautious steps toward the adjoining bathroom.

Inside, Chelsea glanced down at her pants. The IV line and her injured leg made movement awkward.

“Um… can you help me?” she asked softly.

Heat rushed to Jason’s face, staining his ears bright red.

“Sure,” he said, voice tight.

He tried not to look, fumbling blindly, his hands brushing fabric without accomplishing much.

“Jason, you’re not actually helping,” she said, urgency creeping into her tone.

He froze, mortification rooting him in place.

“Maybe I should call a nurse?” he suggested weakly.

“Seriously? You’re my boyfriend. I’d rather you do it than a stranger,” she replied, half amused, half exasperated.

He knew she was right—but embarrassment glued his hands in place. Her barely contained smile only made it worse.

“I’m about to lose it. If I wet myself, I’m going to be furious,” she warned.

That did it.

Resolve snapped into place. He finally focused, helping her properly.

A few minutes later, crisis averted, Jason carried her back to bed and settled her gently against the pillows.

His cheeks were still burning—red as a polished apple.

Chelsea leaned forward, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Jason, your face is glowing.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. A small, wordless sound escaped him.

She crooked a finger, her voice low and teasing. “Come here.”

He stepped closer, the faint sterile scent of the hospital still clinging to him.

In one smooth motion, she looped her arms around his neck, rose slightly, and pressed her lips to his in a firm, unhurried kiss.

Jason went completely still, hands hovering awkwardly at his sides. He didn’t dare pull away—or respond. He simply surrendered to her quiet confidence.

Chelsea loved him most like this—tense, solemn, caught between restraint and desire.

Her lips brushed the curve of his ear, her breath warm against his skin.

“Jason,” she whispered, “your birthday is in two weeks. And when it comes… I’m giving you the only gift that matters.”

“Myself.”