The Underboss Voted No So I Chose A New Life Chapter 33
Cameron booked the restaurant for seven.
No white roses. No heavily scented lilies.
There was only a small pot of non-flowering greenery on the table.
I glanced at it.
He seemed a little nervous.
“I asked your assistant. She said you’re allergic to pollen.”
“You could have also put nothing there.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
He said it, and then he just left it at that.
Halfway through dinner, he pulled out two itineraries.
“Head office has two new features. Seattle and Chicago. Which one do you want?”
“Is this a date or overtime?”
“Right now, it’s a date. The itineraries are just incidental.”
“Then put them away.”
He immediately slipped the papers back into his bag.
It was the first time I realized that being respected didn’t require guesswork.
A person could stop when I said I didn’t need something and ask first when he wasn’t sure.
It started raining after dinner.
Cameron handed me the umbrella. He didn’t wrap an arm around my shoulders.
At the intersection, he asked, “Can I hold your hand?”
I looked at the hand extended halfway toward me.
A long time ago, Hadrian had held my hand like that, too.
Later, that same hand had held my wrist and kept me from leaving the long table.
The memory flashed by. It didn’t hurt the way I thought it would.
I placed my hand in Cameron’s palm.
“Yes.”
He only held it lightly.
We stopped at the red light.
When it turned green, we walked forward together.
No one was rushing me to forget the past.
And because someone was treating me with care, I wasn’t in a hurry to name the future.
Back at the hotel, I got a message from Chloe.
She had forwarded the East Coast feature, with one sentence beneath it.
*About the white roses—for that, I’m sorry.*
A few minutes later, she sent another.
*I knew you would be hurt, and I still deliberately let you hear the room arrangements.*
That wasn’t something that could be brushed aside with *I’m just used to being taken care of.*
I didn’t comfort her.
I only replied with two words.
*Received.*
Then I archived the conversation.