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"You don’t know or you’re not going to remember? Which is it?" Ty pressed, his tone edged with determination.
"Maybe I don’t want to remember. Why do you always bring this up when we have lunch together?" I countered, frustration seeping into my words.
"Because I never see you unless it’s for lunch," Ty confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
"Can we just eat lunch and talk about it after we’re finished?" I pleaded, a sense of exhaustion washing over me.
"We don’t have to talk about it at all. I made my request, and you can think about it," Ty relented, his gaze softening.
As we lapsed into a companionable silence, I signaled for another martini, the clinking of glasses punctuating the moments between bites of food. Ty respected my request for respite from the weight of the past, and we filled the void with mundane chatter, discussing the small details of our lives. I shared with him my decision to quit my job and start anew at Fox Asset Corporation.
"Are you sure you want to work with your husband?" Ty's question cut through the air, his tone laced with skepticism.
"He’s not my husband yet," I reminded him, a hint of defiance in my voice.
"Boyfriend, fiancé, same thing. Eventually, he’ll be your husband," Ty said.
"I couldn’t stay at Blaze. All I did was run errands and get coffee," I explained, a trace of frustration tainting my words.
"What a waste of your degree," Ty remarked, sympathy coloring his tone.
"Exactly," I agreed, the weight of unfulfilled potential weighing heavy on my shoulders.
"Ready to go?" Ty's voice broke through the tension, a welcome distraction from the weighty conversation.
"Yeah," I replied, grateful for the change in subject.
After settling the bill, Ty guided me out of the restaurant, as the effects of the three martinis I had consumed began to take hold. Without his support, I knew I would've stumbled on the uneven pavement, my steps unsteady with each passing moment. His arms encircled my waist, holding me closer than I felt comfortable, yet I welcomed the stability his touch provided.
"Thank you," I murmured, the gratitude evident in my voice.
"You drank too much," Ty observed, concern etched into his features.
"I think so," I admitted, the alcohol-induced haze clouding my thoughts.
"Do you need me to escort you home?" Ty offered.
"No. I’ll be fine," I assured him, summoning what remained of my resolve.
"Are you sure?" Ty pressed, his gaze searching mine.
"Yes. Vlad will take me," I replied, gesturing towards the sleek black sedan parked nearby.
Ty raised an eyebrow. "Your driver?"
"And bodyguard. Oliver worries," I said.
Ty chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "I’m a fucking police officer."
"I know, but still," I countered, unwilling to risk my safety despite Ty's profession.
Vlad extended his arm towardsme, and I pressed a kiss to Ty’s cheek before allowing him to lead me towards the waiting car.
"Talk to you soon," Ty called out as Vlad helped me into the sedan, his voice carrying a note of warmth.
I settled into the plush seat, the exhaustion of our lunch settling over me like a heavy blanket. As the car glided through the streets, I succumbed to the pull of sleep, my eyelids growing heavy with each passing moment. And when we arrived at Oliver’s building, I stirred from my slumber to find him lifting me gently from the car.
"I can walk," I protested weakly, the remnants of alcohol still clouding my senses.
