"It's a rule," she said, stealing the last bite. "Italian restaurant, you get tiramisu. Non-negotiable."
"You've eaten three-quarters of it."
"You're too slow. Survival of the fastest fork."
"That's not a saying."
"It is now."
By the time we left, the sun was setting, painting the town in shades of gold and pink. The fairy lights on the lampposts had switched on, giving everything a soft, romantic glow that felt almost staged.
We walked. No destination, just movement through streets that looked like a movie set. Willow stopped at a bookshop window, admiring a display of leather-bound classics.
"See anything you want?" I asked.
"Everything. That's the problem with bookshops." She pressed closer to the glass. "Look at that copy ofPride and Prejudice. It's gorgeous."
"Buy it."
"It's probably expensive."
"I'll buy it."
She shot me a look over her shoulder. "You can't just buy me things."
"Why not?"
"We've discussed this. It crosses a line."
"Willow, I've bought you an entire wardrobe. A book is hardly?—"
"The wardrobe was part of our arrangement. This is..." She trailed off, turning back to the window. "Different."
I understood what she meant. The wardrobe was transactional. This—a book she'd admired, a gift with no strategic purpose—this was personal.
I should have let it go. Kept walking. Maintained the boundaries we'd established.
Instead, I said, "Wait here."
I was inside the shop before she could argue.
Five minutes later, I emerged with a bag containing one leather-bound copy ofPride and Prejudiceand the horrified look of a man who'd just spent far too much money on a gesture that would only complicate an already complicated situation.
Willow stared at the bag. At me. Back at the bag.
"You didn't."
"I did."
"Callum—"
"Consider it a thank you. For today. For the gala. For agreeing to this ridiculous arrangement in the first place."
“But we didn’t even run into that congresswoman that you were hoping to see.”
I shrugged. “I guess her plans changed.”
She took the bag. Peeked inside. Her face did that complicated thing again—pleasure warring with uncertainty warring with resolve.
