Page 43 of Strictly Against Policy

“I’m assuming Jonathan visits often, then?” Her eyes glittered in anticipation.

“No,” I answered, making Eric laugh.

“But you could bump into him, right?” asked Mary.

I was ready to say no a second time when Eric quickly answered for me, “Honey, let’s get going.” He ushered her into the car before she could utter anything else, chuckling. “Now’s not the time for you to conspire and set up another date for Lina. You need to sleep. You’re tired.”

“B-but—” she started as he closed the door on her.

He gave me a quick wave before getting in and starting the car. “Enjoy your date!”

“We need to go shopping!” Mary shouted after cracking the passenger window open.

I was ready to nod and wave them goodbye when the Hughes twins raced by again with Jonathan on their heels. He was the only one who seemed to have noticed my presence and regarded me in the same fashion as earlier. A quick glance at my face with a curt nod and then gone.

Mary’s giggling drew my attention to her. She flashed me her best grin, looking up at me with excited eyes. “I’ll come by Thursday night to pick you up for our quick trip to the mall!”

I sighed. “There’s no need. I’m sure I have something I could put into use in my closet.”

Mary simply shook her head. “Not for something like this, Lina. I’ll see you Thursday.”

I frowned and shooed her away. Eric laughed. I watched them as they left. Jonathan and the twins bolted by, running another lap.

We made eye contact again. Instead of a curt nod, Jonathan just stared. He watched me over his broad shoulders after they passed me by. It was such a mundane thing, yet . . . I felt a flutter in the pit of my stomach.

CHAPTER 20

Jonathan

I wasn’t sure whether to thank my mom and Julie for setting up this blind date the week right after Valentine’s Day . . . or to tell them to never do this again.

There were plenty of red roses and baby’s breath bouquets displayed on the restaurant window sans the hearts and chocolates. The celebration for love and romance was still ongoing. My date and me had agreed over the phone that today wasn’t meant to be anything serious. Still, I could feel the unspoken pressure from my mom.

Sure, I’d date. But that was the extent of it. I believed that I was built for the easy stuff—the rush of pleasure and passion, the fun, the sex—and that was it.

I’d go on a date with a woman, have a meal, then sex—sometimes, it was just straight to the sex—and finally, a shower after all the fun. Repeat with no strings attached. I was always honest with how little I wanted emotions and the idea of a relationship to muddle things. Some women didn’t mind. Others called me an asshole, and I always agreed with their sentiments.

But the truth was: I was scared. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to commit, or that I enjoyed ‘womanizing.’ Or that I preferred things to be easy.

No. I’m a coward. I watched my mom grieve for my dad for years, understanding their love was true and raw. The kind of love you’d only find once in a lifetime. I couldn’t bring myself to live through that loss one day. I doubt I’d even have the strength to trudge on—day after day—the way she did.

I’d honed myself to believe I’d be perfectly happy without a partner. I’d be fine loving Julie and Shoua’s kids as my own. I’d be content watching both my sister and cousin live out their lives with their partners through the good, the bad, and all the bits that fell in between. I wouldn’t have minded it one bit, to be honest.

I’d let myself believe the love my parents shared with one another wasn’t the kind of relationship meant for me. That maybe being commitment-free would also save me from the heartache of losing the one I loved. Or save my significant other from the pain of losing me at an untimely end.

Underneath all that facade though, what I really wanted was the same love my parents shared with one another. And I knew I had no balls to go after it because of fear. Despite it all, I understood my mom’s intentions that allowed her to smooth-talk me into being here.

Anxiety and regret constricted my chest as I stood in front of the chic wooden door with two Japanese characters, the word Natsuki carved into it. In my hand, I gripped a bouquet of flowers I picked up before heading here. I hoped the seemingly nice woman I had spoken to over the phone was as understanding in person.

I walked into the restaurant, steeling myself for an amazing and pricey dinner with a woman I’d hopefully never see again. However, I stopped short at the sight of Lina.

The world around me slowed to a full stop when I saw that distinctive, heart-shaped pout—I’d recognize it anywhere in this universe. She looked different somehow, but not unrecognizable. Those very lips parted.

“Jonathan?” For the first time in all the years we’d known each other, the tone she had directed at me was soft; a mere whisper. But I could hear it better than the rest of the world around us.

The hostess smiled at Lina, eagerly grabbing menus off the counter she stood at. “Miss, are you two ready to be seated now?” she asked.

Lina and me looked at each other. I quickly eyed her from head to toe, only to realize she was wearing exactly what my date said she would be. Black dress and black heels with her hair up in a bun. My heart thundered loudly as my stomach dropped. She may be wearing something similar to my blind date . . .