That evening, I met Carter at one of his favorite restaurants. It was the kind of classic restaurant that measured its success not through ostentation, but through quiet elegance. The heavy wooden door swung open soundlessly, and I was greeted by a warm, inviting atmosphere. The scent of seared meat, herbs, and fresh bread hung in the air, laced with the subtle aroma of fine wines. The room was dimly lit, the familiar warmth of deep green leather benches and dark wood furnishings lending it a timeless, almost nostalgic elegance. Between the tables, candles flickered, casting reflections in crystal-clear wine glasses. The guests—mostly couples or small groups—spoke in low, mutedtones, their murmurs mingling with the soft clink of cutlery on porcelain. At the far end of the room, a pianist played, the soft strains of the piano rounding out the ambiance without intruding.
I spotted Carter immediately. He sat at one of the window tables, which offered a clear view of the bustling street outside—a perfect balance of privacy and vibrancy. He looked confident and attractive in his impeccably tailored suit and flawlessly styled hair, as if made for an evening like this. Carter was a man who understood his aesthetic; I’d give him that.
But tonight, there was a tension in him. His shoulders held a slight stiffness, and his smile when he noticed me didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was weighing on him—that much was obvious, even as he tried to mask it.
"Fiona," he greeted me warmly, rising to help me out of my coat. "You look stunning."
"Thank you," I replied with a smile as he guided me to our table and pulled out my chair. Predictable Carter. Ever the gentleman.
"How was your day?" he asked once we were seated, his tone lighter than his eyes. "The closing for the big Dade County deal is just around the corner," I began. "I’m presenting the day after tomorrow. You know Mrs. Pierce—she didn’t miss a chance to turn up the pressure today." I smirked and continued, "But I’m looking forward to it. There are still a few minor details to iron out, but I feel prepared."
He forced a smile. "That sounds just like you, darling. But I’m not surprised. You’re control personified."
"Tell me, how was your day?" I asked in return. He seemed distracted.
"Good," he answered finally, before collecting himself and making his voice firmer. "Very good, actually. The firm is running smoothly. We’ve closed a new deal that will keep us busy for months."
I waited, but he seemed hesitant. "Carter, is everything alright?" I pressed, noticing his reluctance.
"Yes, of course," he said, a little too quickly, as if trying to convince me. But then he paused briefly before continuing. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something." His voice softened, almost cautious. "I’ve been thinking... Fiona, would you consider becoming a partner in my firm?"
"What?" I blinked, surprised by the suggestion. "That sounds... tempting," I admitted finally. "It means a lot that you thought of me. But..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "We’ve always made sure to keep our professional and personal lives separate. It was important to both of us to maintain our independence."
Carter nodded slowly, his fingers fidgeting restlessly with the stem of his wine glass. "I understand that," he said at last. "But I’m taking a big step with the firm right now, and I want you to be part of it. It would mean a great deal to me."
"I’ll think about it," I promised him.
Carter seemed to gather himself for a moment before speaking again. His voice was firmer now, as if trying to convince himself. "We’re on the verge of finalizing a partnership with a European consortium. It’s a project that will define the next few years. Energy efficiency and sustainable technologies—that’s the future, Fiona." His gaze grew more intense, and I sensed the enthusiasm that had been hidden beneath his earlier tension. "The consortium is ready to invest heavily, but of course, they expect us to contribute equity as well. Your involvement wouldn’t just be symbolic—it would signal that we’re building on a strong foundation together."
"That sounds ambitious," I said, trying to grasp the magnitude of his words. "But also risky. Are these investors reliable?"
He leaned forward slightly, his fingers still on his wine glass. "Absolutely. They’re well-connected and have alreadyproven themselves in multiple markets. It’s a one-of-a-kind opportunity, Fiona. If this goes through, we won’t just be major players nationally—we’ll be among the big names internationally."
His enthusiasm was contagious, and for a moment, I actually considered what it would mean to be part of something so significant. But there was also that tiny spark of skepticism in me, impossible to shake.
"And what exactly would my role be?" I asked finally, my voice calm but alert.
"Of course, it would be more of a silent partnership," he explained quickly. "I don’t want you to feel pressured. But your name, your reputation... that would make an incredible difference. You’d be the perfect partner, Fiona. Dependable, competent, and..." He paused briefly, and his voice softened. "Someone I trust absolutely."
I smiled faintly, because inside, a flicker of unease had begun to stir. Carter had always made me feel like I could be independent and self-determined—yet now, it seemed he wanted to redraw those boundaries. His words were flattering, no question.
"It sounds like you’ve thought this through," I said carefully. "And I appreciate that you want to include me in it."
"I want us both to win," he replied, and something flickered in his eyes that I couldn't immediately decipher. "This wouldn't just strengthen my firm—it would strengthen us. We could build something together, Fiona. Something lasting."
I nodded slowly, but the lump in my throat stifled any further words. "I'll think about it," I repeated, letting my gaze drift across the flickering candles that failed to dispel the quiet shadows his proposal had cast. The conversation ebbed, and a strange silence settled between us. I watched as he meticulously aligned his silverware beside his plate, his eyes distant. Something was weighing on him.
"Carter?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice. "What's wrong?"
He lifted his head, looking at me as if searching for the right words. "I've been thinking about us, Fiona," he began, his tone hesitant, almost cautious. "About our future together."
An uneasy feeling coiled in my chest. I could guess where this was headed, but I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
"I think..." He paused, hesitating. "I think we should consider marriage. We've been together for a while now. And I don't know what we're waiting for."
His words hit me like a blow, and I felt every part of me recoil. It wasn't that I didn't love Carter—but the idea of marriage... it felt overwhelming and wrong, like a final decision that would end my life as I knew it. I couldn't explain it, but something deep inside wanted to run, wanted to scream that this wasn't the right path.
"Carter, that's... that's a huge step." I forced a smile, trying to mask my unease. "I mean, it's beautiful that you feel this way, but maybe we should give ourselves more time to think about it?"
