I had to get married.
That was the truth of the matter. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t ready or that it was being forced onto me. If I wanted the company, I had to abide by the rules set before me, no matter how forceful they were.
I clenched my hands together, the weight of expectation pressing down harder the longer I sat there. I knew myself well enough to admit the truth even if I didn’t like it. I wasn’t willing to walk away from the company. I had to get married in less than a month. I had no right to drag Evania into my mess. And yet, I already had.
I dropped my head forward, shame creeping in slowly. Pursuing her had been impulsive. Selfish. A moment of weakness I hadn’t bothered to analyze until it was already done. I told myself at the time that it was harmless—that I was just curious, just enjoying her company, just allowing myself something uncomplicated.
That had been a lie.
Nothing about this was uncomplicated.
I shouldn’t have done this.
I knew that.
But I also couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
That realization was somehow worse.
Regret would have been an easier emotion to handle. Now I could only reflect on my decisions and the reality that there was no perfect solution here. I had two options, neither of which sat well with me.
I could stay silent and let things continue as they were. Let her believe this was something that could grow into more, even though I knew it likely couldn’t. That would buy me time,comfort, and something dangerously close to happiness, but it would be at her expense.
Or I could tell her the truth.
Risk her walking away. Risk seeing the disappointment in her eyes.Risk losing something I hadn’t even fully allowed myself to have.
I swallowed hard. While stringing her along would be easier, it wasn’t something I was comfortable with. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing I’d intentionally hurt her. I let out a slow breath and nodded to myself, having come to a decision. If there was any version of this where I could look myself in the mirror afterward, it was the honest one. Even if honesty ruined whatever fragile thing existed between us.
My gaze flicked toward the restaurant entrance, then back to the parking lot, scanning each empty space with more focus than I cared to admit. The building itself was understated but elegant—warm brick, soft lighting spilling from tall windows, a place that didn’t need to announce itself to be impressive. It was exactly why I’d chosen it.
I exhaled slowly and forced myself to look away, tapping my thumb against my phone screen even though there were no notifications waiting for me.
Suddenly, headlights swept across the lot.
A car turned in from the street, slowing as it pulled into the parking area. My attention snapped to it immediately, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. I straightened slightly, eyes tracking the vehicle as it moved past the entrance and toward the row near mine.
I watched it come to a stop, watched the engine cut off. I momentarily wondered if Evania was in that car, but I quickly shrugged it off. That was until Evania actually stepped out, looking even more beautiful than I remembered.
She closed the car door and adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, pausing for just a second as she looked around the lot. I opened my own door and got out to meet her. Her head snapped in my direction instantly.
Recognition lit her expression, followed by a smile so quick and genuine it felt like a physical embrace. Warm. Open. And entirely unguarded. She started toward me without hesitation.
“Callahan,” she said when she reached me, her voice carrying a lightness that settled deep in my chest.
“Evania,” I replied.
“Am I late?” she asked nervously as she glanced at her phone for the time.
“You’re right on time,” I said, unable to hide my smile.
“So are you,” she replied, glancing briefly at her phone before tucking it away. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” I said.
The honesty of it surprised me. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it, but I didn’t take it back. Her smile shifted slightly, softened, and she nodded as if filing the comment away for later.
We turned toward the restaurant together, falling into step easily. The walk was short, but I was acutely aware of her presence beside me—the faint brush of her arm against mine, the way she looked around as if she were taking everything in, committing it to memory.
