FOREVER WITH YOU IN IT

CHAPTER 3 - SHADOWS OF THE PAST

The auction had ended hours earlier, but Jessy still felt the pulse of the room lingering in her chest. It was as if the energy of bidding wars and the weight of all those priceless jewels had followed her into the quiet of the evening. She could have gone straight home, back to the fortress of glass and marble she called her penthouse, but something about Brian got her thinking, "Who is this stranger who had crashed into my car and somehow into my night".

Brian suggested cassually, “If you don't mind, can we go for a walk?”

His tone wasn’t commanding. It wasn’t the demanding voice she was used to hearing from men in her circle of businessmen who spoke like every conversation was another deal to win. Instead, Brian’s words carried a gentleness, a suggestion, and a trace of curiosity that made her pulse quicken.

For reasons she didn’t want to name yet, Jessy agreed.

Jessy: “Okay.”

They walked side by side. The night was calm with beautiful stars shining brightly in the sky. Jessy’s emerald dress swept gracefully with each step, catching the faint glimmers of light as if it were stitched with threads of the night sky. Brian matched her stride, his black suit jacket draped loosely over his arm, his shirt collar open just enough to soften the sharp lines of his jaw.

A few turns later, they found themselves in front of a small cafe, tucked between two lamplit alleys. Its windows were fogged from the warmth inside, and a faint melody of piano music drifted through the glass.

Brian pulled the door open and gestured.

Brian: “After you.”

Their eyes locked for a fraction longer than necessary. Jessy stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the aroma of cinnamon, coffee, and something else she couldn’t place, something sweet and nostalgic, like home-baked pies on winter nights. The café was cozy, dotted with small wooden tables, each lit by flickering candles. The low hum of conversation wove with the piano melody, creating a cocoon of warmth that contrasted sharply with the cool elegance of the auction hall.

They settled into a corner booth, facing each other. Jessy wrapped her fingers around the warm ceramic cup the waitress placed in front of her, letting the heat sink into her palms. She found herself studying Brian under the soft café lights—the way his eyes carried both determination and quiet amusement, the way his presence seemed unhurried despite the sharpness of his tailored suit.

Brian leaned forward, folding his arms on the table.

Brian: “So… Jessy,” he said, leaning forward with his arms folded on the table “what’s the story? Jewelry bidder by night, mystery by day?”

Jessy: “Something like that,” she replied, stirring her tea. “And you? Auction crasher… or is there more to it?”

Brian: “Much more. But that’s for another night.”

Something in the way he said it made her skin prickle. She wasn’t used to people withholding stories from her. Men usually spilled their achievements like coins on a table, eager for her to admire their wealth. Brian, however, seemed deliberate. He gave her just enough to pique her interest, then held back, as though inviting her to lean closer into his world.

She didn’t know it then, but that was the moment her calm, carefully built world began to shift.

Before she could press further, the bell above the cafe door chimed.

Jessy froze. "Henry!" she exclaimed.

His gaze swept the room until it landed on her and then on Brian. The muscles in his jaw tightened. He strode over, his tone sharp enough to slice through the warm air like a blade.

Henry: “Jessy. I didn’t expect to find you here… with a stranger.”

Jessy straightened, forcing calm into her voice.

"Well, it's not what you think." Jessy said, in a defensive tone.

Henry’s eyes narrowed, with his tone sharp.

Henry: “You’re supposed to be preparing for the gala, not having coffee with some dude.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Brian was already leaning forward, his voice calm but steady.

Brian: “Excuse me, Mr. Henry. She’s not doing anything wrong.”

Henry’s head snapped toward him.

Henry: “And you are?”

Brian didn’t flinch. His gaze held steady, unwavering.

Brian: “Someone who doesn’t talk to her like she’s property.”

Henry scoffed and let out a humorless laugh.

Henry: “Property?” His voice dripped with disdain. “You don’t know a thing about us.”

Henry: (facing Jessy) “You better get out of here and start the preparations for the gala as you should!”

Jessy’s hands trembled under the table, her fingernails pressing into her palm to steady herself. For years she had endured Henry’s controlling nature, excusing it as pressure, as expectation, as the price of her family’s legacy. But tonight here, across from Brian, she felt the sting of humiliation sharper than ever.

Before Jessy could utter any words, The cafe door slammed behind him, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence that followed. Jessy sat frozen, her chest rising and falling unevenly. She felt exposed, like every wall she had built around herself had cracked in plain sight of a stranger. But Brian didn’t ask questions. He didn’t probe, didn’t push. Instead, he simply reached for the coffee pot on the table, pouring gently into her cup as if nothing had happened.

He turned and left, the cafe door slamming behind him. Jessy’s hands trembled, but Brian simply poured her another cup of coffee, as if to say, "I’ve got you" without saying anything at all.