The Stranger I Married-Chapter 42: stay with me

Nicholas laid Ella down gently on the soft mattress, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her flushed face. She was drunk—too drunk to stand on her own. Her eyes were glassy, lids half-drooping, but there was something vulnerable in the way she clung to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as if letting go would break her.

His heart twisted in a way he didn’t expect.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t care this much.

But he did.

He always had.

Nicholas exhaled slowly, forcing himself to release her hand. He started to step back—ready to give her space, to leave before he did something stupid.

But her grip tightened.

"Don’t..." Ella’s voice was small, barely above a whisper.

Nicholas froze.

Her glassy blue eyes blinked up at him, her pupils wide and unfocused. She licked her lips like she was gathering the courage to speak again.

"Tell me honestly..." Her voice wavered, breaking on the last word. "What do you want from me?"

Nicholas’s chest squeezed painfully.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Not now. Not when she was like this—soft, vulnerable, stripped of all her defenses.

Ella swallowed hard, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist.

"I know... I know you’re not helping me out of kindness." Her voice was trembling, but there was an edge beneath the vulnerability—like she was preparing herself for the worst. "Everyone always wants something from me."

Nicholas’s heart clenched.

Is that what she thought of him?

He crouched down slowly, his dark eyes locked on hers.

"Is that what you think, dolcezza?" His voice was quiet—gentle in a way he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Ella’s lips trembled.

Her eyes flicked away, staring at the ceiling like she was ashamed to meet his gaze.

"You’ll leave too... won’t you?" she whispered.

Nicholas’s heart squeezed so hard it hurt.

He hadn’t realized how deeply those words would cut him until he heard them fall from her lips.

How many times had people walked away from her? How many times had she been used and discarded?

Ella was always trying to act tough—always holding her head high even when the world kept beating her down.

But right now...

Right now, she looked so small.

So painfully fragile.

Like she was just waiting for him to hurt her too.

Nicholas’s throat worked.

He leaned closer, brushing his knuckles softly against her cheek.

"I’m not leaving you, Ella."

Her eyes flicked back to his—wide and glassy, as if she wanted to believe him but didn’t know how.

"You say that now."

Nicholas’s jaw clenched.

It pissed him off—how broken she sounded. How the world had made her believe she didn’t deserve someone to stay.

He cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at him.

"I’m not him," he said quietly. "I’m not your father. I’m not your ex. And I’m not going anywhere."

Ella’s breath caught.

Her eyes shimmered, like his words had cracked something deep inside her.

For a long moment, she just stared at him—searching his face like she was trying to find the lie hidden in his promises.

Then her fingers loosened around his wrist—only to slide up, wrapping around his forearm instead.

"Stay with me."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

Nicholas’s heart thudded painfully against his ribs.

He shouldn’t.

He should walk out right now before he made things worse—before he gave her the wrong idea.

But when she looked at him like that...

Like he was the only person in the world who hadn’t abandoned her—

He couldn’t walk away.

"Okay," he murmured.

Ella’s eyes fluttered closed, a small breath of relief slipping from her lips.

Nicholas slipped off his shoes and jacket, sliding into the bed beside her.

He kept his distance at first—his body rigid, fighting every instinct screaming at him to pull her closer.

But then Ella shifted—turning toward him slowly, like she couldn’t help herself.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer until her head rested against his chest.

Nicholas’s heart skipped a beat.

She fit against him so perfectly—like she’d always belonged there.

Her breath was warm against his neck, her soft hair brushing against his jaw.

"You’re so warm," she murmured sleepily, her voice slurred from the alcohol.

Nicholas’s throat worked.

He hadn’t held someone like this in years.

Not since he was a kid.

Not since the nights when he used to curl up next to his brother after their father had come home drunk—trying to pretend the world wasn’t as cruel as it really was.

He’d forgotten what it felt like... to hold someone who needed him.

Ella’s fingers fisted weakly in his shirt, like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.

"I’m so lonely," she whispered against his chest.

Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut, his arm wrapping tighter around her waist.

"I know," he murmured.

God, he knew.

He’d seen it in her from the moment they met—that quiet sadness she tried so hard to hide behind her sharp tongue and stubborn pride.

The kind of loneliness that made you ache from the inside out.

The kind that made you believe no one would ever stay.

Ella’s breath hitched, and Nicholas realized with a jolt that she was crying—silent, broken sobs shaking against his chest.

His heart twisted painfully.

He hated seeing her like this—so raw, so exposed.

But at the same time...

He was honored that she trusted him enough to fall apart in his arms.

Nicholas stroked her hair gently, his fingers tangling in the soft strands.

"You don’t have to be alone anymore, dolcezza."

Ella’s sobs quieted slowly, her breathing evening out against him.

It was the first time in a long time someone had held her like this.

The first time someone had made her feel safe.

Nicholas didn’t know how long they stayed like that—wrapped around each other in the dark.

All he knew was that he never wanted to let her go.

Even when her breathing evened out and her body went slack against him, Nicholas stayed awake—listening to the soft, steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest.

He traced slow, lazy circles along her back—soothing her even in sleep.

And when she shifted closer—burying her face in his neck, her fingers still tangled in his shirt—

Nicholas pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the top of her head.

He was already in too deep.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not when she was finally asleep in his arms—finally letting someone carry the weight she’d been holding alone for so long.

"I’m not leaving you, Ella," he whispered against her hair, even though she couldn’t hear him.

"I never will.