A hundred replies crowded my throat, but I swallowed them so I didn’t start tearing up. I didn’t want to make him feel worse, so I settled for a hoarse, “Me too.”
I didn’t tell him that I’d wanted to run to him earlier and burrow myself into his chest. We could take the next flight to Paris, London, anywhere but here, where we lived under a microscope. We could pretend we were normal lovers, free from the expectations of our families and their petty squabbles.
But we couldn’t.
This was our first truly private moment since our fathers’ falling out. Our shared space at Singh Foods HQ was right by my father’s office, so we were always on edge there, and video calls weren’t an adequate substitute for seeing him in person.
Sebastian pressed his forehead against mine, his breaths slowing into an even, steady rhythm as I ran my fingers leisurely through his hair and traced lazy circles on his back. I just wanted to feel him, to breathe him in and assure myself that he was real.
“You think our dads will ever pull their heads out of their asses?” he asked in French. He was fluent in English, but he reverted to his native language when he was particularly frustrated.
I laughed, the sound tinged with melancholy. “Maybe. Maybe not,” I said, also in French.
“The universe insists on fucking us over every time things are going well. I’m starting to take it personally.”
I didn’t laugh this time because he was right. From the mystery asshole who’d sabotaged his letter in boarding school to ourfamilies’ unprecedented feud, our relationship had been marked by obstacle after obstacle. After years of lost time, we were finally together, but we had to sneak around like teenagers.
A few months ago, I would’ve taken our troubles as a sign that we weren’t meant to be. But honestly? Fuck that.
Sebastian and I had made it through a lifetime of animosity and misunderstandings. We’d make it through this too.
Still, I winced at the prospect of choosing between him and my family. I didn’t want to wait another fifteen years before we could openly be together. That might sound like an exaggeration, but my father was notorious for holding long grudges.
“We can’t wait for them to reconcile on their own,” I said. “They need a little push.”
“Let me guess,” Sebastian said. “We’ll be doing the pushing?”
“You areso. Smart,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. I squealed with genuine laughter when he wrestled me to the ground and tickled me with a mock scowl.
Someone knocked on the door, and we froze, our laughter evaporating beneath a cloud of dread.
“Ms. Singh? Can I come in?”
Fuck. It was the event manager.
“Uh, one moment, please,” I called out, my voice a pitch higher than I would’ve liked.
I scrambled to my feet and fixed my hair and clothes while Sebastian squeezed himself between the wall and the farthest filing cabinet. It was the only feasible hiding place in the otherwise open office.
Once I made sure he was properly concealed, I opened the door to the event manager’s tight smile. I smiled back, my pulse pounding.
“Sorry about that. The call took longer than expected.” I slipped out of the room and shut the door firmly behind me. “Thanks so much for letting me use the office. It was, um, very private. Exactly what I needed.”
“You’re welcome.” The manager glanced at the closed door. “Shall I escort you to the lobby? The layout of this floor can be confusing.”
My smile felt stitched on. “Sure.”
I followed him through the maze of hallways to the elevator. I hoped Sebastian was able to get out without anyone seeing him. The administrative wing was pretty quiet, so he should be okay, but I wished we’d had the chance to say a proper goodbye. Who knew when our next non-work-related moment alone would be?
My chest tightened.
We couldn’t keep going like this. Wehadto find a way to restore our fathers’ friendship, preferably before we all died of old age.
I mentally added it to my to-do list. Other major items included: bridesmaid duties for Priya’s wedding, telling our families Sebastian and I were dating after our fathers (hopefully) made up, and, oh yeah, pulling off the biggest, buzziest launch in the food world next month.
No pressure or anything.
My mind was spinning, but as I stepped into the elevator, my panic crystallized into determination.
