Don’t let her see you.
I had a valid reason for being here; even so, there was no excuse for the way my eyes followed her every movement, cataloging details I had no business remembering. The soft sway of her hair. The relaxed confidence in her posture. The way she laughed at something my sister said, her head tipping back just slightly as if joy came easily to her.
I stepped farther into the corner, letting the wall and a decorative column shield me. From here, I could see her clearly without being seen myself.
It felt wrong watching her like this, hiding in a corner. I probably looked like a stalker, which was so far from the truth. And yet, I couldn’t look away.
The only reason I was here was for my sister. I’d told myself that when she’d invited me. Told myself that when I’d grabbed my keys and left the house. I was here to show support. To make an appearance. To be the reliable older brother who showed up when asked.
I hadn’t expected to see her today, especially since she wasn't at the café. I'd wondered where she was, if she was with some guy who was lucky enough to bask in her presence. Never did I expect her to be here. At my sister's book signing.
Even so, it was too much to look at her. To see her smile. To know she existed somewhere outside the café and outside my thoughts.
My sanctuary became corrupted when I remembered the folder my mother sent to my office the day after they ambushed me.
It was a neatly organized list of women deemed “acceptable” for me to marry. As if marriage were a job and they were the most qualified. As if attraction, affection, and compatibility could be reduced to bullet points and pedigrees.
I’d scrolled through it once out of curiosity. That had been enough. They were annoyingly perfect. Perfect smiles. Perfect families. Perfect résumés. I could go as far as to say they were obvious marriage material, but I wasn't interested in any of them.
I’d felt nothing reading those profiles. Not curiosity. Not anticipation. Just a dull, heavy resistance that settled deep in my bones.
I shifted my weight, eyes flicking back to the woman in front of me now. The way she listened as my sister spoke, her expression open and engaged. To the warmth that radiated from her without effort.
I wondered—briefly, dangerously—if she would ever consider something like that. An arrangement. A marriage born of necessity and interest.
The thought barely formed before I crushed it. It was ridiculous. Disrespectful even. She wasn’t a solution to a problem or an escape route. And the fact that my mind even tried to frame her that way made my stomach twist.
I exhaled slowly through my nose, dragging my attention back to the present. I couldn't involve her in my mess, I just couldn't.
I looked up just in time to catch my sister giving me a strange look.
The one that saidI know what you're thinking,paired with a smile sweet enough to pass as polite to anyone else. To me, it was a warning shot. She stood a few feet away, chatting easily with the woman I hadn’t stopped thinking about since the moment I’d walked into that café. Her body language was relaxed, familiar in that way strangers get when conversation flows without effort. She laughed at something my sister said, tipping her head back slightly, the lights catching in her hair.
I was doomed.
I lifted my hand in a small, helpless gesture and offered my sister a sheepish grin. She arched one perfectly shaped brow, lips twitching like she was holding back a grin of her own. Traitor.
I exhaled through my nose and quickly pulled out my phone.
Behave. I’ll be outside.
A second later, she replied:
Coward.
I didn’t bother responding.
Instead, I turned on my heel and headed for the parking lot before I did something reckless—like inserting myself into a conversation I had no right to be part of. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of roasted coffee beans and something floral from the planters lining the sidewalk. I slid into my car and shut the door, the world instantly muted by tinted glass and quiet leather.
I leaned back against the headrest and stared through the windshield, letting the tension ease from my shoulders. This was ridiculous. I was a grown man with responsibilities, a company breathing down my neck, and parents who thought my personal life was a problem to be solved rather than a choice to be respected.
And yet, here I was, heart beating just a little too fast because of a woman whose name I didn’t even know.
I closed my eyes briefly, her face flashing behind my eyelids—soft but striking, expressive in a way that felt unguarded. She hadn’t been trying to impress anyone. She’d just been… there. Existing. Laughing. Comfortable.
I think that's what undid me the most.
My eyes snapped open when there was a sudden burst of laughter and a door slamming shut.
