“Glad to hear it,” I said. My gaze softened despite myself. “You look happy.”
“I am,” she replied easily. Too easily.
And there it was—that sharp twist in my chest again.
Because happiness, I was learning, came with consequences. I looked away before she could read anything in my face, my thoughts betraying me instantly. Resentment grew as I thought about how my parents waited until I was far too comfortable and dependent on being CEO before presenting me with such an ultimatum. I was conditioned for the role and had no experience outside of it. Quite frankly, I couldn't make a living on the assumption that I would figure it out.
I’d been trained for this role since I was old enough to understand balance sheets instead of bedtime stories. Private schools, elite mentors, endless expectations. Leadership drilled into me like muscle memory. I didn’t know how to follow orders without questioning them, how to clock in and out, how to exist without being responsible for thousands of livelihoods.
I wouldn’t survive outside the machine they built me for. They knew that. My parents had taken the perfect opportunity to screw me over, and I desperately wanted to hate them for it.
I shook my head slightly, as if I could physically dislodge the thoughts, and forced myself back into the moment.
“So,” I said, too casually. “You like it?”
She blinked. “The ice cream? Or the existential crisis you just had?”
I winced. “Was it that obvious?”
She smiled gently, not teasing this time. “You zoned out and had this intense look on your face.”
I met her gaze, my chest tightening. “I did?”
“Mm-hmm.” She tapped her spoon against the bowl. “For most people, that would mean they had something urgent on their mind.”
Damn. She saw too much.
I took a breath and looked away, buying myself time. “What if… hypothetically… There was something big I needed to tell you.”
She glanced at me. "I'd recommend just telling me. Whatever it is, I'm a big girl, I can handle it."
When I looked back at her, she was staring at me with something like stars in her hazel eyes. That look made my chest tighten with guilt. I didn’t deserve it. I turned away again, the weight of what I’d been avoiding pressing down on me.
“Come sit outside with me,” I said, already moving.
I grabbed her ice cream and led her to the shop’s outdoor seating. Pulling out a chair for her, I gestured for her to sit. She did so without a word, her silence louder than any question. Her eyes followed me as I took the seat across from her.
She lifted her spoon, then paused mid-motion when she saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”
I sighed, frustration slipping through. Even now, she looked impossibly cute, genuinely concerned about me.
“I have something important to tell you,” I said tightly, forcing the words out.
Her eyebrow lifted. “We've established tell. Just tell me what it is, I can't handle the suspense. You look like you're about to confess to a crime.”
I huff out a short laugh. “It might as well be.”
That earned me a small smile, but it faded quickly when she saw I was serious. She settled back, waiting. Patient. God, that patience was going to kill me. I laced my fingers together and stared at them, because if I looked at her while I said this, I might lose my nerve.
“My parents gave me an ultimatum.”
The words feel absurd the moment they leave my mouth. Even to me. She didn’t interrupt. Just scooped another bite of ice cream and listened.
I push on. “My family owns a billion-dollar company, which should have been mine on my thirtieth birthday. Instead, my parents gave me an ultimatum demanding that I get married or lose the company.” My jaw tightened even further as I continued. “I tried to get out of it; however, after speaking with my lawyer, it was clear there was no winning against them.”
I paused, giving her the chance to say something, but she remained silent, not giving me any insight into what she was thinking.
I swallowed hard. “I have less than a month to get married.”
