By the Book

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Unspoken Truths

The restaurant Miles had chosen was a perfect blend of casual and intimate, with warm lighting that danced off the copper fixtures and an inviting hum of conversation in the air. It was the kind of place where you could lose track of time, savoring every bite and every word shared across the table. Normally, I would've loved it. Tonight, I could barely keep my thoughts from spinning.

Miles sat across from me, relaxed and radiant in the soft glow of the candles. He had ditched his suit jacket from earlier, leaving his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, giving him an effortlessly charming air. His smile was easy, his laugh even easier as he recounted a mishap with a latte art class at the café last week. I nodded along, forcing a laugh at the right moments, but my mind was a million miles away.

The promotion. The move. The accounts. Alan's calculated praise. Chloe's understanding but weighty reminder of what was at stake.

And then there was Miles, sitting there, completely unaware of the storm raging in my head. It felt like a betrayal somehow, keeping it from him, but how could I drop a bomb like that in the middle of a celebration?

"Kara?" Miles's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. "You okay?"

I blinked, realizing I'd been staring at the flickering candle between us. "Oh, sorry. What did you say?"

His concern deepened, though he kept his tone light. "I asked if you wanted to split dessert. But more importantly, you've been quiet tonight. Quieter than usual. Is something on your mind?"

Panic flickered in my chest, but I managed to plaster on a smile, the kind I'd perfected in countless professional meetings. "No, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my plate right now."

"Work?" he guessed, leaning back slightly but keeping his gaze steady.

"Yeah. You know how it is," I said, my voice breezy. "Endless reports, deadlines, trying to keep clients happy."

He nodded, but there was something behind his eyes—like he wasn't entirely convinced. "Well, you deserve a break tonight. No reports. No deadlines. Just good food and better company." His grin returned, teasing but warm. "And by better company, I mean me."

I laughed softly, grateful for his ability to lighten the mood. "Of course. How could I possibly argue with that?"

Miles chuckled, picking up his menu. "That's more like it. Now, tell me—do we go for the cheesecake or the tiramisu? Or both?"

I leaned forward, pretending to study the dessert options, but my mind drifted again. I couldn't keep doing this—pretending everything was fine while the clock ticked down on one of the biggest decisions of my life. But tonight wasn't the time to unload it all on Miles. He deserved to celebrate this win, not be weighed down by my uncertainty.

"Let's go with both," I said, forcing a playful edge to my voice. "It's a celebration, after all."

Miles's smile widened, his relief evident. "Now you're talking. I knew you had good taste."

As he flagged down the waiter, I took a steadying breath, reminding myself of Chloe's words from earlier: Whatever you decide, make sure it's what you want.

Three months. That's how long I had to decide what I wanted. But sitting there, watching Miles's eyes light up as he joked with the waiter about dessert, I couldn't imagine a version of my future where this—where he—wasn't a part of it.

Still, the thought lingered like an unwelcome shadow. For tonight, I could celebrate. But soon, I'd have to make a choice.

The waiter returned with our desserts a few minutes later, placing the plates between us with a flourish. The cheesecake was drizzled with a rich raspberry sauce, and the tiramisu was dusted with just enough cocoa powder to make it look like art. Miles clapped his hands together in mock seriousness.