Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 129 "Afraid of me, I guess," I said softly. "Afraid of actually being happy." Christian studied me for a moment, as if trying to absorb every layer of what I'd just confessed. His fingers traced. gentle patterns against mine, that familiar touch grounding me instantly. "Explain that to me," he said quietly. I took a deep breath, trying to untangle thoughts that had lived buried in me for years. It wasn't easy to put into words-the quiet ache of believing happiness wasn't meant for people like me.

"I think neither of us really believes we can be happy in love," I said finally. "You because you can't let yourself fully trust anyone without expecting to be disappointed. And me... because I've never believed I was worthy of something truly good." His grip tightened around my hand, his eyes softening with a mix of understanding and hurt. "Zoey..." "No, let me finish," I said gently. "All my life, I've settled for crumbs. With Alex, I let him push me aside over and over again. I let him cancel on me, treat me like an afterthought, make me feel like I didn't matter.

Because deep down, I thought that's all I deserved." Pain flashed across Christian's face at the mention of Alex, anger simmering beneath the surface. "He never deserved you," he said tightly. "Maybe not," I said. "But at the time, I thought I didn't deserve better. Somewhere along the way, I learned to believe that my worth came from being convenient to others." Christian shifted in bed, ignoring the obvious pain that crossed his features. He wanted to see my face, to really look at me. "And then you came along," I said, a shaky laugh slipping through my tears.

like I was something precious. And I didn't know what to do with that." "Because it felt too good to be true," he said, instantly understanding. "Exactly. And you..." I looked at him, really looked at him-the man who had once seemed untouchable and now lay bruised and fragile before me. "You've got your own scars. Francesca taught you to

comes with conditions," I added softly, remembering the stories he'd told me about his cold, distant childhood. "That you have to be perfect and self-sufficient to earn affection." He let out a humorless laugh. "What a pair we make, huh? The woman who thinks she doesn't deserve

found each other in the chaos. "You're teaching me

tenderness that stole my breath. "Maybe we just have to relearn how to love. Leave the past where it belongs and build something completely new. Something that's ours alone." "A love not built on fear or insecurity," I said, covering his hand with

said, his voice full of awe, as if the words themselves felt sacred. "Our child," I whispered, placing a hand over my stomach. "They're going to grow up knowing what love really looks like.