The silence felt too loud after he left.
I checked my phone for the third time in five minutes, waiting for a message that probably wouldn’t come.
I felt him before I saw him; Gabriel was standing in my doorway.
He looked at the flowers, then at me, and for once I couldn’t read what was in his eyes. I should have been angry. I should have thrown something, or at least the chocolate box. Instead, I felt relief so sharp it bordered on pleasure.
“Lunch?” he said.
“Is that an order?”
He shook his head. “It’s a request. You don’t have to.”
I was on my feet before he finished, heels snapping against the floor, my body already ahead of my brain.
We rode down in silence, close but not touching. The elevator hummed and I stared at the panel, willing myself not to reach for him.
Outside, the day was too bright. He guided me into a restaurant that only existed for people with private jets.
We sat. The waitress arrived instantly, pouring water without asking. I ordered the steak, bloody. He smiled. I pretended not to notice.
“Are you going to tell me what that was really about?” I asked, voice low.
He didn’t dodge. “Whitfield had leverage. Now he doesn’t. You’re safe.”
“That easy?”
“Nothing is easy, Eliza.” He folded his hands, and for a moment I saw the tension in his wrists, the way he wanted to touch me and wouldn’t. “But you’re the only one in this company worth protecting.”
I felt heat rush up my neck. “That’s… an overstatement.”
He leaned in, eyes black in the shadows. “You still don’t see it. That’s what I like about you.”
My pulse hammered. I tried to summon sarcasm and found nothing.
“I think I love you.”
He didn’t move, not even a twitch. “You think?”
“I know.” It was almost a dare. “But you don’t have to say it back.”
He stared, and then he laughed, a short, rough sound. “Eliza, I fell for you the second you beat me in the hackathon. You just didn’t notice.”
I reached for his hand, under the table where no one could see. His fingers were cool, steady. He squeezed once and then let go.
His phone buzzed. He checked it, the faintest smile tugging his mouth. I wanted to kiss that smile.
“What?” I pressed.
He shook his head. “Just a mess that cleaned itself up. It’s over.”
I accepted it. I didn’t need to know everything. I just wanted this.
We walked out together, sunlight forcing me to squint. On the curb, he stopped. Looked at me like I was the only person who’d ever existed.
Then he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft, or gentle, or secret. It was the kind of kiss that wrote headlines, the kind that told every bystander exactly what was going on.