“I can’t tell you that,” Richard says without preamble.
Storm and thunder are dancing in his brown irises, now almost black. The face I love so much is set in a look of determined anger, ferociously handsome and just plain fierce at the same time. Something lurches inside me and my throat constricts.
Richard shakes his head as if trying to sort conflicting thoughts. “I promised I wouldn’t be here, ever again.”
I drop the duffel bag and take a step forward. “Where’s here?”
Richard looks up again, his eyes wide, vulnerable, without a trace of cynicism—and as they meet mine, the world stops. That one look tells me more than a thousand words could; Richard’s expression tells me he loves me. But I can’t be the only one acknowledging her feelings. So I ask again, “Where’s here?”
“Here is where I’m about to make a fool of myself, again.”
“Why?”
“Because I do love you.”
Tears of relief spring to my eyes.
“There’s nothing foolish about that.”
“No?” He lets out a hysterical laugh. “Love has only ever brought me pain and humiliation. I tried to avoid it, suppress it, deny it.” Richard rubs his forehead and I wait patiently in silence. “But the burning just won’t go away. And I’ve never been more scared in my life. For years, I’ve managed just fine on my own. But then, no, you had to come along and ruin everything. So here is where my heart is again in the hands of a woman who can do whatever the hell she wants with it.”
“Richard, I’m not your ex.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Because it is.”
“Why?”
A painful grimace twists his features. “Because I never loved her the way I love you!” The heart that was hammering in my chest until a few seconds ago stops. “Since you left on Sunday, I haven’t been able to sleep, eat, work, think. You’re everywhere. I can’t stop thinking about you. Even if you refused to talk to me, I couldn’t wait to get to the office every day to see you, and I dread the time of day when I have to go home alone. Then when you didn’t show up today, I thought you were leaving, for good.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“This time or ever?”
“Are we talking about a job here or something else?”
“We’re not talking about a bloody job.”
“Richard.” I take another step forward. “I can’t promise everything will be perfect, that we’ll never argue or break up. And I don’t know if we’ll have a happily ever after. But I’m willing to risk my heart on that possibility. I’m in… one hundred percent.”
“What if I don’t want to get married?”
“I don’t want to marry you.” Okay, I might’ve doodled Blair Stratton more than once, but that doesn’t mean anything. “You haven’t even taken me on a real date yet.”
Someone in the background cheers. It could be Indira. Or Saffron. Or even Chevron for all I know.
“What if I don’t want to get married, ever?” Richard insists.
I sigh. “Do I want to get married at some point in my life? Yes. Would I consider not doing it for the right man? Seems so. I always thought I wanted a wedding. But I also wanted many other things that I’ve discovered were insignificant. So is a piece of paper more important than the real love of a real man? No. I watched my mother spend years in a marriage with no love. She stood by a man she didn’t love, but wouldn’t leave only to be proper. And that’s not what I want. If marriage is the one thing you can’t give me, I’d rather not have it and have everything else.”
“You say that now, but you’ll change your mind.”
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe you’ll change your mind.” He’s about to protest but I anticipate him. “Let me finish. I spent my whole life mapping out every single step I should take. Engaged by twenty-nine, married by thirty, and two point five kids by thirty-five. Same goes for my career. Then my perfect plan crumbled in a single day. I lost the perfect job and the perfect-on-paper boyfriend and I’ve never been happier. I don’t want to plan anymore, I want to live.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What if it does? Can you walk away without trying? ’Cause I sure can’t.”
“If we do this…” This time, it’s Richard taking a step toward me. “What is the single thing you’d never give me?”
I take a moment to think. “My career,” I say. “I’ll never be a stay-at-home mom.”
Richard’s features relax for the first time since our conversation started, and he closes the distance between us. I inhale his scent and I’m a goner as soon as he cups my face in his hands. “So we’re having kids now?” he asks with a playful smile.
I blush and luckily don’t have the time to stutter an embarrassing reply as Richard’s lips silence mine. His strong arms wrap around me and he almost crushes me against his chest.
I’m pretty sure kissing the boss in the middle of the office is against every workplace protocol ever written. But right now, I’m too busy trying to stand on my own two legs to care. That thing they say about buckling knees? Totally true.
We finally let go, and Richard seems to become aware of the gaping faces staring at us from all around the office. Ada is clapping and crying, too, I think. I can’t tell under her giant cat-eye glasses. Indira is sporting a shrewd smile. Saffron is taking a pic. Surely she doesn’t plan to post it on the magazine’s socials, right? And the boys are trying to project a look of composed appreciation.
“Come on, kids,” Indira yells, breaking the tension of the moment. “Cheer up for mommy and daddy, they made up.”
Everyone laughs and claps and cheers. And I’m so stupidly happy I can’t talk. I can only keep smiling at the man I love, whose eyes now reflect the same love he must see in mine.
“What happens now?” I whisper.
My anger has burned out and I’m becoming very self-conscious. Shouting my feelings in front of all my colleagues and forcing a love admission out of Richard were not part of the plan when I woke up this morning.
“We can start with a first date,” Richard says. “Dinner?”
“It’s two-thirty, I’m not hungry.”
Richard leans in and whispers, “Oh, you will be. Because we’re stopping at my place first.”
I blush a furious red and hide my face in Richard’s chest.
“Everyone,” Richard says aloud. “It’s been a long week. Let’s take the rest of the day off.”
The cheers that follow this announcement are even more widespread and enthusiastic.
Richard takes my hand and whistles for Chevron to follow us out of the office. As we reach the door and exit, an echo of Indira’s comment reaches me. “… if they’d told me all it took to have the afternoon off was to get the boss laid, I would’ve pimped him more.”
“Indira.” Ada’s voice is barely audible through the door. “You’ve missed the whole point. It’s not about getting laid, it’s about love.”
“Please don’t tell me we have another hopeless romantic in the house…”
Mercifully, the elevator arrives and I can’t hear any more of Indira’s pretend-cynic comments.
The three of us step in, and as soon as the doors swipe closed, Richard pushes me into a corner. One hand on my lower back, the other buried in my hair.
“I love you.” He nibbles my earlobe. “It’s so good to say it. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, trying not to combust.
“Woof, woof.” Chevron joins the party at our feet, yapping happily.
We pull apart and scratch her behind both ears.
“Yes, we love you, too,” I say.
Richard squeezes my hand and I stare into his eyes, realizing I don’t care if he’s never going to propose. Our trio feels more like a family than anything I’ve ever had before.