“What if I don’t want to get married?”

“I don’t want to marry you.” Okay, I might’ve doodled Blair Stratton more than once, but that doesn’t mean anything. “You haven’t even taken me on a real date yet.”

Someone in the background cheers. It could be Indira. Or Saffron. Or even Chevron for all I know.

“What if I don’t want to get married, ever?” Richard insists.

I sigh. “Do I want to get married at some point in my life? Yes. Would I consider not doing it for the right man? Seems so. I always thought I wanted a wedding. But I also wanted many other things that I’ve discovered were insignificant. So is a piece of paper more important than the real love of a real man? No. I watched my mother spend years in a marriage with no love. She stood by a man she didn’t love, but wouldn’t leave only to be proper. And that’s not what I want. If marriage is the one thing you can’t give me, I’d rather not have it and have everything else.”

“You say that now, but you’ll change your mind.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe you’ll change your mind.” He’s about to protest, but I anticipate him. “Let me finish. I spent my whole life mapping out every single step I should take. Engaged by twenty-nine, married by thirty, and two point five kids by thirty-five. Same goes for my career. Then my perfect plan crumbled in a single day. I lost the perfect job and the perfect-on-paper boyfriend and I’ve never been happier. I don’t want to plan anymore, I want to live.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does? Can you walk away without trying? ’Cause I sure can’t.”

“If we do this…” This time, it’s Richard taking a step toward me. “What is the single thing you’d never give me?”

I take a moment to think. “My career,” I say. “I’ll never be a stay-at-home mom.”

Richard’s features relax for the first time since our conversation started, and he closes the distance between us. I inhale his scent and I’m a goner as soon as he cups my face in his hands. “So we’re having kids now?” he asks with a playful smile.

I blush and luckily don’t have the time to stutter an embarrassing reply as Richard’s lips silence mine. His strong arms wrap around me and he almost crushes me against his chest.

I’m pretty sure kissing the boss in the middle of the office is against every workplace protocol ever written. But right now, I’m too busy trying to stand on my own two legs to care. That thing they say about buckling knees? Totally true.

We finally let go, and Richard seems to become aware of the gaping faces staring at us from all around the office. Ada is clapping and crying, too, I think. I can’t tell under her giant cat-eye glasses. Indira is sporting a shrewd smile. Saffron is taking a pic. Surely she doesn’t plan to post it on the magazine’s socials, right? And the boys are trying to project a look of composed appreciation.