Ours After All (All Ours, #2)

Chapter 3

I truly believe that stability is the key to a happy life.

Some people would argue with me on that, understandably. I mean, not everyone wants to go to bed at night and know exactly what awaits them for the next day. Plans are often optional, not mandatory- but sadly, I need them to have a clear head and not go completely crazy.

The knowledge of what to expect gives me a sense of comfort that only my best friends have achieved to give me in my life.

And now Maxwell.

Isabella was interning at this law firm a few months ago. It was actually an all-womens firm, but Sandria- the founder- hired a few people with experience in the area to help her set everything up when she first started- a few of those people being men, one being Maxwell. She liked his work so much that she made an exception and hired him as one of her junior associates at the time, despite him being male and a first-year Harvard Law graduate.

I thought I'd never find anyone with the same insane work ethic as Isabella, but one night when she was working late at the firm, I decided to bring her leftover food since she's got the tendency to starve herself to near-death whenever she's heads deep in work. But then I walked out of her office about half an hour later and there he was, thick-rimmed reading glasses on the tip of his nose, hands in his messy brown hair. The suit. The tidy, business-y slash lawyer-y look didn't intrigue whatsoever.

It was his tired eyes, lightening up like tiny fireworks when they settled on me for the first time that ultimately did it for me.

I've never had someone look at me like that. Like I'm the moon and the stars. Like I'm something so precious and...beautiful. Something you can't take your eyes off. Or don't want to take your eyes off. That intrigued me.

People often forget that you've got everything to gain when you've got nothing to lose. So I greeted him. Simply said hello. And when he immediately shut down his laptop without even saving what he'd been working on, and took off his glasses with a smile tender and sweet, I knew I'd made the right decision.

It took one conversation with him to know I'd found stability in human form.

It wasn't groundbreaking. It wasn't earthshattering. It didn't necessarily make me feel like I was floating on a thick air of ecstasy while butterflies swarmed my insides. But I was so comfortable. So at ease, it honestly freaked me out.

We did everything pretty conventionally regarding us. He took me on dates, picked me up himself with a bouquet of roses in hand, dropped me off at home but didn't kiss me until our third date.

Many more dates followed and we...progressed. Progressed into a relationship, and everything that comes with a relationship.

The only thing left was meeting each other's families. Which was a big deal in and of itself, let alone bringing a guy home to an Armenian family.

We Armenians are pretty conventional people. Traditionally, you wouldn't bring a boyfriend home with you if he didn't have a ring ready to ask your hand in marriage with to your father. A man doesn't just meet your family to meet them. For Armenians, the first time is purely for research purposes only. They'd welcome you with open arms and more food than one family knows what to do with, but they will watch you like hawks, trying to determine every little factor on why you wouldn't be good enough for their little girl.

I warned Maxwell of this, but he was completely sure he could handle us. Of course, it might be pretty easy for him. He has all the brownie points lined up for him already. Bringing a lawyer that's not bad to look at in nice clothes and an expensive haircut, that also treats their daughter with the utmost respect home to the family is every Armenian mother's dream. I bet mine has already called everyone she knows back home and gushed over this for hours.