Jezebel |h.s|

Thirty Eight

Isabella

Something shifted once we got back from Italy. Not in a bad way. Quite the opposite actually.

Harry and I have spent every moment possible with each other. Dinners at his place with Ottilie every night, date nights and sleepovers at Cornelia on the weekends, even sneaking in a quick coffee together during lunch breaks.

As perfect as everything feels, we still haven't defined anything. We haven't really talked about what he said in Italy. That I didn't have to worry about money and he would be there for me. I even got a deposit into my bank account right on time like I do every month. I didn't even expect it, but I was too scared to talk to him about what we are now.

Maybe in the heat of the moment he said stuff. He said perfect, amazing things but realized that he shouldn't have. I mean, I get it. Italy was incredibly romantic, I understand getting lost in the moment. Saying things you don't exactly mean. I wouldn't even hold it against him.

He's been acting normal though. Back to his busy, billionaire CEO self.

Kat and Brynn wouldn't stop hounding me for details about Italy. I get it though, going on vacation with my apparent boyfriend and his kid is a big deal, especially adding in the fact that it was for the holidays. It's times like these when I wish I had told them about the contract. Maybe they'd have some insight into how he might be feeling given that conversation we had. But they don't know and I'm left to ponder on it all by myself.

Walking into his building with our lunches and coffee, I try to tell myself not to think about it too much. Easier said than done, especially when it's been eating away at my thoughts the entire day. Kat made a comment last night about how I may have found the one and it's been haunting me ever since. How would I even know who the one is?

The last guy I thought was 'the one' was Christian and we all know how that turned out. I think that's just a term made up by like divorce lawyers or something to keep people dreaming that there's one person out of billions that is made for you. That's clearly impossible.

He probably just meant that we're friends. That once the contract is up and we're not having sex regularly, then we'll just stay friends. I mean, I would like that. To be friends with him after everything. Then again a friend doesn't say not to go on a job interview because they want to provide instead.

I can't even blame alcohol because he didn't have a sip of anything the entire time we were in Italy. Not even one of the many bottles of red wine on the counter of the kitchen. I told him that he could and that it wouldn't bother me, but he insisted that he shouldn't. So he wasn't even drunk when he said that.

I know I should just ask him. I mean, that's what adults would do in this situation right? It's a simple question, three words. What are we? And yet it gets stuck in my throat every time I try to ask.

I just have to be a big girl and rip off the bandaid already. The worst that can happen is he says we're just in this arrangement and nothing more.

He smiles when he sees me through the window of his office, getting up to greet me at the door. The second I'm inside his office his lips meet mine. It calms me, easing my nerves ever so slightly.

After closing the door behind me, he takes the coffee tray from my hand and walks with me over to the couch. "How's class been?"

"Busy. This time of the year always gets busy because of competition season starting and since we're getting closer to the recital."

He scrunches his nose as we sit down. I take our lunches out of the bag, handing him his food. "At least we get to see each other for a little bit. I'm gonna hate when you travel on the weekends for competitions."