I forced myself to sit up straighter and accepted the plate he handed me.
I felt a bit out of place and uncomfortable in his space.
It wasn't mine.
I had no privacy to just curl up and sulk if I wanted to.
And it was kind and generous of him to offer me a spot to unwind here, though I doubted I'd ever feel at home in such an expensive home.
"Your place is so different from mine," I said, gesturing with my fork between bites. "My whole apartment could fit in this room." And I wasn't wrong. This old brownstone was easily three times the size of my apartment and I hadn’t seen it all yet.
Nate glanced around as if seeing his own home for the first time.
"I suppose it is. But your place feels like a home where a family lives comfortably. I barely spend any time here. It's…" He paused, looking thoughtful for a second. "Functional."
"Functional," I repeated, managing a small smile. "That's one way to describe perfection."
"No, Ember, it's not perfect." He set his fork on his plate and looked at me with a compassionate expression. "It's empty and cold." I swallowed hard when we made eye contact. I hadn’t meant to insult him. "But you make it feel more like home every time you visit."
His comment made me feel a little flustered, and I focused on the noodles I was pushing around my plate.
We lived in different worlds—literally. He had a huge, successful, very public career, and I was just starting out in life.
What his father said about our age difference had wormed its way into my conscience and made me start to rethink things.
Nate was charming and handsome, but he was wealthy and powerful. I was a nobody.
I had no money, no power, no true career yet, and definitely no fame.
We were as different as two people could be, but we found each other, and now we were stubbornly holding on to something that was burning us both.
And that was just the beginning of my troubles.
Nate needed someone to keep up with him and run alongside him.
All I did was act like extra baggage that was slowing him down.
If that other woman would've been named his Hearthkeeper, none of this news media mess would've sprung up.
His father wouldn’t hate him, and the committee would be pleased with him in every way.
Because Nate was an amazing man who deserved the recognition.
I was just… too young.
"Sometimes, I feel more like a distraction than a partner," I said quietly. "You have this whole life, this career, and I'm just the assistant who got pulled into this mess. I don't fit here, Nate."
A tinge of anger crossed his forehead in creases before he set his plate aside and moved to kneel in front of me.
His touch as he cradled my cheeks was so gentle, I almost broke down.
"Stop," he said, and then he kissed me. "You aren't a distraction to me. You're more important than that. In fact, if anything, this tradition has become a distraction to the things I want in my life."
"Like what?" I asked, almost choking on my food.
My body felt spread thin and stretched tight like a bowstring.
I wanted all of this to be over so I could calm down and relax.
