Page 62 of If the Ring Fits

She nods, visibly relieved. “Me too.”

As we place our orders with the slightly flustered server, I wonder what else Rowena has on her mind. She seems nervous, almost uncertain, and I wish to put her at ease.

Once our food arrives, Rowena picks up her fork, then sets it down and says, “So, the reason I asked you to meet me today is that I need your advice to plan for the future.”

I lean forward. “I’m all ears. What’s on your mind?”

She takes a bite of her caprese salad, letting out a soft moan of delight that stirs something primal and deep-seated within me. I brush an invisible speck of dust off my sleeve, trying to focus on what she’s saying and not the enticing way her lips wrap around the silver fork.

“So after I finished everything on Sophie’s massive to-do list for the engagement party and wedding planning.” Rowena gestures animatedly with a cherry tomato speared on her fork. “I found myself just… sitting there in your house. Alone. With nothing to do.” She pops the tomato in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “And now that the morning sickness has mostly passed, I’m feeling restless, you know?” She takes a sip of sparkling water, the bubbles fizzing. “I’ve already read all the guides on the first trimester—it feels like tempting fate to peek ahead. And it’s way too early to start on the nursery…”

Rowena trails off, sighing wistfully. She takes another big, appreciative bite of her mozzarella and lets out a little hum from the back of her throat. Jeez. How can eating a salad be so sexy? I mentally shake myself.

“So in short, I’m bored out of my skull and in desperate need of career advice from my brilliant fake fiancé.”

She grins at me, eyes sparkling with a hint of… flirtation? No, surely, I’m imagining that. We’ve just closed that door. I force myself to ignore the way my pulse picks up at her proximity. I’m supposed to be giving sage counsel, not ogling her like a barbarian. But damn if those little food-gasms aren’t killing me by degrees.

I drum my fingers on the table. “What exactly about your career?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life after we…” She hesitates. “You know, get divorced.”

Her casual mention of our divorce stings for no validreason. Heck, I haven’t even married her yet. So why the fuck do I feel like this? “Of course,” I say as diplomatically as I can. “What are you thinking? Are you considering going back to software programming? Or something else?”

Rowena tilts her head, a strand of her silky hair falling across her face. “Yes and no. I mean, it’s the only valuable skill I have, but…” She trails off, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

I want to tell her she has an abundance of valuable skills, that she’s one of the most brilliant women I’ve met, but after the awkwardness of Sunday morning, I hold back. I don’t want to lead her on or create any more ground for misunderstandings. Instead, I nod, encouraging her to continue.

“The thing is, even if I got a job like my old one or got a promotion, the salary wouldn’t be enough to raise a child alone in New York City. I’ve run the numbers, and it’s just not feasible.” Rowena’s voice wavers, and my heart aches for her.

“Rowena, you’ll always have my support. The alimony?—”

She cuts me off delicately, her hand resting on mine. “I know, Adrian, and I’m so grateful for that. But at some point, I want to be independent again, to stand on my own two feet. And I just don’t see that happening with a job like my old one.”

Her touch sends electricity coursing through my veins. I remain still, paralyzed by a prehistoric freeze response. I barely have enough motility to move my mouth and respond. “I understand completely. So, what other options are you considering?”

Rowena leans back in her chair, her brow furrowed in contemplation. “That’s just it. I don’t know. I’m at a crossroads, and I have no idea which path to take. I was hoping you might have some insights or advice. Is my only option to move somewhere cheaper? How do I make more money to stay in New York?”

If there’s one thing I’m good at discussing, it’s money and how to make more of it. I wipe my mouth with the napkin, giving myself a moment to think. I want to help her pursue her dreams without sacrificing her financial stability.

“Well, if a higher salary is the main concern, you could always apply to more established companies, banks or larger corporations with software development departments. They pay better than fintech start-ups like the one you were working at.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I notice a flicker of disappointment in Rowena’s eyes, a bit of her light dimming. I study her closely. “But something tells me that’s not a path you’d enjoy.”

She shakes her head, a wistful smile on her lips. “No, you’re right. In my old job, I felt like it was sucking my soul away, bit by bit, every single day. I can’t imagine going back to that, especially not in a more rigid corporate environment. I’ll be alone raising a kid; I’m going to need flexible hours on top of a higher pay.” She grimaces. “Easy, right?”

I lean forward, my eyes locked on hers. “Then don’t go back to a job you hated.”

Her eyebrows raise. “But how?”

I let air fill my lungs, knowing that what I’m about to suggest might sound unconventional. “I want you to forget about money for a moment. If salary wasn’t a factor, what would you do? What’s your dream job?”

Rowena bites her lip, hesitating. “I… I don’t know.”

“Close your eyes,” I instruct her, my voice gentle. “Try to picture it.”

As she lets her eyelids flutter shut, a dreamy expression settles on her face, and I’m struck by the sudden, overwhelming urge to lean across the table and kiss her. Thedesire is so strong that I have to grip the edge of the table and snap my thoughts back to her conundrum. I’m here to help not ogle.

“Imagine your ideal career, Rowena. What does it look like?”

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