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"Is everything okay? Did he--? Does he approve of our relationship?"
"He approves; maybe a little bit more than that. He wants you to move in."
She inclines her head to the side and frowns, her eyes wide in confusion. I hold my breath, wishing for her to tell me to go to hell with my outrageous demands. But she laughs and shakes her head repeatedly.
"You're saying your dad wants me to move into your house? With Eli?"
"Yes."
Slowly she nods and bends down to grab her shoes, then slide them onto her feet. My heart swells with sudden terrible fear, I curl my fingers as they try to reach out to her. Our eyes meet, she gazes into mine.
"I'm sorry, Declan, I don't think I can do that. I was thinking we'll first adjust to being together before we take things further. It's only been a few days and it's-- it's overwhelming," she mutters and huffs out a quiet laugh. "I know this isn't real, but then, I don't want to make rash decisions. I want to be prepared for every single step we take."
Heart aching, I nod reluctantly, trying to mask my disappointment.
Felicity is right about everything happening so fast. If I'm being honest, I want to be made Managing Director as soon as possible. However, I'm willing to take things a bit slow. Maybe after a few months, I'll propose, plan a wedding and all. By then, Father should be fit enough to visit the office and do the necessary transfer of power.
"Maybe we should talk about this later, over dinner?"
Faint creases appear on her forehead. I can feel her withdrawing from me, which scares me more than I'd ever dare to admit.
"Felicity?"
She's quiet for a moment, then in a small voice, she says, "No. I don't think I'll make good company. I'm sorry."
She stands up. I join her, then place my hand on her shoulder, turning her around gently to face me. She sighs and lowers her head.
"I'm sorry, Declan."
I expel a shaky breath and then tilt her face up with my fingers under her chin.
"That's supposed to be my line. I'm the one dragging you into all of this when you should be out there living your best life. I feel bad about dragging you into this mess, Felicity. I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
I hear the smile in her voice, and that eases the tightness around my chest. I gesture at the food with my chin.
"Please eat before you leave."
With apparent reluctance, she settles back on the couch and pulls the table closer. A myriad of emotions spirals through me as I watch her uncap a bottle of water and place it in her mouth. When I'm just about to claim the space beside her and grab one of the takeaway bags, she mutters something under her breath, picks up her laptop, and leaves with one of the lunch bags.
The sound of her heels on the tiled floor echoes for several seconds after she's left, my heart dips even lower with fear and uncertainty.
When I climb up the short steps and walk through the front doors of my home at 5 p.m., I feel stiff, dog-tired, and a tad gloomy that my day didn't turn out well. Felicity avoided me like a plague and supplied clipped responses to my text messages.
Suddenly, Eli's laughter filters into the sitting room, bringing an end to my aimless musing. I approach the open door and lean on the wall beside it, staring at the mess they're making with scrunched faces.
I tuck my phone into my back pocket and open my arms as Eli rushes me to hug me.
"We're baking a chocolate cake for dinner. I was just about greasing the cake pans. Wanna see?"
I nod and flash him a smile.
"I'd love to."
I allow him to lead me to where the pans are with a tub of butter beside them. He picks one up, dips his fingers into the butter, then rubs it around the pan, taking the time to smear it into the corners.
I wash my hands, tug off the black suit jacket, fold the sleeves of my white shirt and join Eli in greasing the pans.
