The Stranger I Married-Chapter 49: Heartbreaker

Ella sat on the velvet stool in front of the ornate vanity, watching her reflection with growing anxiety. Her hair was clipped up in sections, the scent of lavender-infused hair mist hanging in the air. Loose strands fell across her forehead, and she kept trying to tuck them behind her ear, only for them to bounce back.

Nicholas was behind her, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and that irritatingly smug grin tugging at his lips.

"Stop staring at me like I’m a science experiment," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him through the mirror.

"I’m not," he said easily. "Science experiments are dull. This is more like watching a masterpiece unfold."

Ella rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the slight upturn of her lips. "You’re laying it on thick today."

He stepped forward slowly, casually, like a big cat circling its prey—though in this case, the prey was currently having mousse massaged into her scalp.

"I just think it’s a crime," he said as he came to stand behind her, "that you’ve hidden all this under baseball caps and ponytails for so long."

Ella bristled slightly. "It’s practical. I don’t have the time or the money to—"

"You don’t need excuses," he interrupted gently, his tone softening. "You’re beautiful however you are. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little magic sometimes."

One of the stylists—a cheerful, middle-aged woman named Marnie—smiled between them like she was witnessing something sacred. "He’s not wrong, sweetheart. You’ve got the kind of hair women bring photos of to salons and say, ’Make me look like her.’"

Ella blinked. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Marnie said as she began to unwind the first set of curlers. "Thick, soft, naturally wavy. And with this new caramel tone we’re adding? Oof. Heartbreaker."

Nicholas made a low sound of agreement. "You’re definitely going to break hearts."

Ella glanced at him. "Yours?"

He didn’t miss a beat. "Already shattered, darling."

She laughed—quiet and warm, the kind that made Nicholas’s chest tighten. Moments like this, when she forgot to guard herself, when she let the world slip away... they were rare. And precious.

He pulled a chair up beside her and sat so they were both facing the mirror. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watched her in the glass. The way her cheeks flushed every time someone complimented her. The way she kept biting the inside of her cheek like she wasn’t sure she belonged here.

"You know," he said eventually, "I’ve seen you look like hell. Exhausted, makeup smudged, hair a mess, yelling at me over something I probably deserved."

"I didn’t yell." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

"You did."

"Fine. Maybe a little."

Nicholas grinned. "And you were still the most breathtaking thing in the room."

Ella turned her head slightly, eyeing him. "Do you ever stop?"

"Never. It’s part of my charm."

"Well, it’s exhausting."

"I’m willing to be exhausting if it gets you to smile like that."

She opened her mouth to argue, then promptly shut it when Marnie unrolled another curl and fluffed it. The caramel tones they’d added glinted under the soft lights, giving her hair depth and warmth. She looked... different. Still herself, but more alive. Like a version of her that had forgotten how to hide.

"You really like it?" she asked, her voice smaller than usual.

Nicholas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locked with hers in the mirror. "I like you. Hair, no hair. Designer dress or hoodie and sweatpants. But yeah... this?" He gave her a lopsided grin. "This is fun."

"I look... I don’t know."

"Like someone who’s finally starting to see herself the way I see her."

She blinked quickly and turned her gaze down to her lap. Nicholas’s teasing smile faded, replaced by something softer. More serious.

"Ella," he said quietly, "you don’t have to be afraid of becoming someone new. This version of you—the one who lets herself be pampered, who laughs easily, who takes up space without apologizing for it? She’s still you. Just... free."

Ella met his eyes again, and this time, she didn’t look away.

"I think I forgot what that felt like," she admitted.

"Then let’s help you remember."

Marnie finished the last curl and fluffed it carefully, letting the waves fall naturally around Ella’s face and shoulders. She spritzed a bit of setting spray, then stepped back, giving Ella room to breathe.

"Well, darling?" Marnie asked. "Ready to see the final result?"

Ella hesitated—then slowly turned her face toward the large oval mirror.

The reflection that met her was unfamiliar, yet undeniably hers. Her hair was rich and golden with caramel undertones, tumbling in soft waves around her face. Her eyes seemed brighter, her features more delicate somehow, not because of makeup or glamor—but because she looked happy.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she saw a version of herself that wasn’t dulled by fatigue, grief, or fear.

She looked... alive.

"I—" she started, then stopped, overwhelmed by the unexpected sting behind her eyes.

Nicholas stood up immediately and came to stand behind her, resting his hands gently on her shoulders. His touch was grounding.

"It’s okay," he said softly. "You don’t have to say anything."

Ella turned in her chair, looked up at him with shiny eyes, and whispered, "Thank you."

He smiled, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek. "You never have to thank me for this. For wanting to make you feel like the goddess you are."

"I’m not a goddess."

"You are," he said firmly. "You just don’t know it yet."

She shook her head, laughing through the tears that didn’t quite fall. "You make it really hard to keep pretending I’m fine on my own."

Nicholas leaned down, his voice velvet-smooth and low. "Good. Because I never wanted you to be alone in the first place."

Ella’s fingers curled around the hem of his sleeve, and for a moment, she let herself believe it could be okay to want him. To lean into something real. To trust that maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t all temporary.

She left the salon in jeans and a soft sweater, her hair bouncing with every step, her heart lighter than it had been in months.

Nicholas didn’t let go of her hand the entire way back.

And she didn’t want him to.