“I never thought there’d be a day when I’d see you drive,” she remarked as I adjusted the driver’s seat to the back and she fastened her seat belt, her eyes on the windscreen.
“I prefer riding,” I divulged as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“Riding what?” she inquired, not missing a beat.
“Bikes,” I answered. “Motorcycles, I mean.”
“Wow,” she commented, turning to face me. “Well, I can definitely picture it.”
I glanced at her, and she was squinting her eyes at me like she was painting a mental picture. She looked so adorable.
I chuckled.
“Nice,” she added, turning the other way again.
We kept driving in silence until I got off the road and she asked, “Another route? This was definitely not where we passed earlier.”
“That’s correct. It isn’t. We’re not going home.”
“If we’re not going to your manor, then where are we headed?”
I didn’t miss the way she called the house my manor when I called it home. It hurt more than I would have thought.
“We’re almost there. You’ll see.”
She sighed impatiently, and my free hand itched to hold hers, to touch her in some kind of way, but I just kept driving.
The houses around became farther and farther apart until there were none of them, and we were surrounded by greenery and nothing else.
“We’re close,” I told her.
She sighed again.
The clearing was finally in sight, and I slowed the car to a halt and killed the engine.
“Are you meeting someone here or what?” she inquired, looking around.
“Undo your seat belt,” I told her as I got out of the car and shut my door.
As I led her away from the car, she saw the snacks and food in different trays right at the center of the clearing. She turned to me and asked, “What’s going on? A picnic?”
“I wouldn’t call it a picnic.”
“When did you even have all this arranged? Called your men during the meeting?” she inquired as I picked up the folded plaid blanket.
“Not during. After.”
She took off her footwear as I spread out the blanket. I took mine off and sat facing her.
Her eyes were intent on me, and I practically got lost in them. Until I remembered why I had brought her here. I brought the snacks and food closer, racking my head for how to say what I needed to say.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
She blinked slowly. “Sorry for?”
“For doubting you. I shouldn’t have. You’ve given me no reason to doubt you,” I answered, sighing. “Even when we came upon the driver guy's information, I knew that you didn’t intentionally hold it back from me. You’ve been honest with me even when I treated you like a suspect. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t just doubt me, Konstantin,” she replied, her voice soft. “Yes, you did. But that was the part I might have understood. The painful part was you just turning around and looking at me with suspicion again.”
