Page 47 of A Mistake of Worth
Inside, the showroom was quiet. Low lighting, ambient music, touchscreen panels glowing softly.
Henri hesitated just past the threshold. “Something simple,” he said. “Basic.”
Michael smiled. “Those words don’t mean much anymore.”
A young showroom assistant appeared. “Would you like to demo the new sensory integration glasses? They just launched this week.”
Henri started to shake his head, but Michael nudged him gently. “Go on. I’ll handle the phone.”
The assistant beamed and led Henri to a softly lit demo alcove. Michael watched from across the room as she fitted the sleek black frames over Henri’s eyes and showed him the gesture interface. Within moments, Henri was absorbed. Hands moving tentatively, then confidently. He laughed aloud at something only he could see.
Michael felt his chest tighten. The sound of Henri’s genuine laughter, unguarded and delighted, did something to him. It was probably too soon to feel this protective, this invested in someone he’d known for such a short time. But watching Henri discover joy in something as simple as choosing his own technology made Michael realize he didn’t care about the timeline. Henri felt right. He belonged here, in Michael’s life, in ways that defied logic or reason.
At the counter, a technician greeted him. “Looking for a new primary?”
“Yes. Full functionality. No previous account ties. UK number.”
“We can do that.” She pulled a device from the locked panel behind her. “Transfer contacts from the old unit?”
“No,” Michael said. “I’ll handle them manually.”
She nodded and began the setup. Michael added the glasses to the tab without blinking.
When Henri emerged, his cheeks were flushed, eyes bright. “That was incredible. I had no idea it could be that immersive.”
Michael handed him the box. “Now you have your own. And a new phone.”
Henri blinked. “Michael, you didn’t have to...”
“I wanted to.” His voice was quiet. “I like spoiling you.”
Henri looked away, overwhelmed. But he didn’t refuse the gift.
Back in the car, Michael placed the phone in Henri’s hand. “Marc’s number is blocked already. Don’t contact him.”
Henri nodded slowly. “Okay.”
The silence that followed wasn’t tense. It was weighty. Settled.
Michael tapped the console. “Set route: Continue to EcoSphere headquarters. Canary Wharf.”
The car acknowledged and began to move. Henri watched the skyline shift through the window. When they pulled up to the EcoSphere building, Henri paused, fingers on the door.
“Will you be home later?” he asked.
The question hit Michael unexpectedly. Home. Henri had called it home, and something about the way he said it, tentative but hopeful, made Michael’s throat tight. It was too fast, this feeling, this certainty that Henri belonged with him. But it was there nonetheless, solid and unshakeable.
Michael nodded. “I’m yours the rest of the day.”
Henri leaned in and kissed him. Hesitant and shy.
Michael smiled as Henri stepped out. “Knock them dead, CFO.”
He stayed at the curb until the car pulled away, and Henri disappeared into the revolving doors. Only then did he allow himself to acknowledge the full weight of what was happening. He was falling for Henri, had probably already fallen, despite every rational argument against it. The timing was wrong, the circumstances were complicated, and Henri was still healing from decades of abuse.
But none of that mattered. Henri felt like home in ways Michael hadn’t known he’d been missing.
He leaned back against the seat, pulled out his own phone, and opened the secure folder with Gabriel’s files.
