(4)
Nightshade & Sakura | Chapter 4: Consequences
Beginning Notes from the Author
Only one Japanese word in this chapter, and one reminder to an acronym:
"Kanji" - Chinese characters adapted to fit the Japanese language. The Japanese have four writing systems, which makes my life soooooo much fun: Hiragana, Katakana, Kanji, and Romaji.
"BOE" - Board of Education
Kylo — Chicago — One Month Later
Kylo closed his eyes and took a sip of his whiskey. That taste. He hadn't drank whiskey since last month. Last month when he'd sat across from her, watching her smile, laugh—cheeks red.
"Long day, man?" Mario, the bartender, asked him while making a drink for another customer.
Kylo finished the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. "Yeah, man. Always."
His phone vibrated; he pulled it out, eyes squinting at the screen.
Yuki Yamamoto
Good evening. I hope work hasn't been too busy lately, but I need to know if you're bringing anyone to the wedding next month?
He rubbed his eyes, raising his glass slightly. "Another?"
A week after returning from Japan, he'd received a letter in the mail cloaked in a white envelope. But on opening it, he realized it hadn't actually been a letter at all.
Sighing, he reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling it out once again. Ornate cursive—Hiroto & Yuki. And that one word: Wedding. Yuki was getting married next month, and she'd invited him and reserved two places—one for him and one for a guest. Please RSVP as soon as possible.
Well now that soon as possible had turned into three weeks, and he still didn't know who he could bring, other than her. The only one he wanted to ask. All month, he'd stared and stared at Rey's email contact picture, dreaming of pressing the call symbol.
He twirled the invitation in his fingertips. He couldn't. Not after what had happened. Not after he was determined to leave it all behind. She was his past. She was loyal to them. And she'd… He shook his head, remembering the shape of that box on the dresser. She'd somehow gotten the pill and taken it, without saying a word to him, without even checking to see if his feelings had changed. If she... it would be his too. And maybe he wanted that with her, maybe—
What was he thinking? He didn't want children. Didn't need to have a God awful baby wail in the middle of the night only to go to work the next day and be subpar. He had enough trouble sleeping without worrying about if he was completely fucking up another human being for life.
Yet, he'd stared at that box until his eyes were blurry. So he'd left, knowing that would hurt her the most and put an end to whatever they had, knowing he was doing the exact same thing that he'd done eight years earlier.
He put the invitation away, shaking his head.
It was better like this—with them apart. They couldn't be together. How she'd asked about them and pushed the issue even after he'd told her and told her and then the pill—the final sting, the final reminder that she didn't trust him, not fully.
Mario placed the second drink in front of him and tilted his head forward. "Your girlfriend's here."
"What?" Kylo turned around in his chair, Rey's face flashing through his mind.
But it wasn't her.
"Hey!"
It was Amber, one of the girls he occasionally hooked up with. She pulled him into a hug, her nauseating perfume filling his nostrils. "Good to see you again. I was wondering when you'd show your face."
"Busy with work," he replied, pulling away.
"You're always busy with work." She turned to Mario. "Cosmo, thanks."
He looked her up and down, noting her four inch heels, skin tight dress, and nearly flawless makeup. Then smirked, remembering. Nude ballet flats and that low-cut sequined dress. Rey would never wear those heels. She preferred comfort, natural over fake. Subdued makeup. Yet, so beautiful.
"So what's it this week? Japan? California? New York?" Amber probed, flipping her long blonde hair back. But all he could see was brown waves and her smile.
He needed to stop thinking of her, needed stop seeing her like a permanent ghost at his side. He'd done it the entire month—in the middle of meetings, at the grocery store, when getting a cup of coffee even. It was crazy. Obsessive. They were over before they'd even began and rightfully so. She'd never see what kind of people his family was. What kind of mother, if he could even call her that, Leia had been. So focused on her career, sending him to private school after private school until they all blurred together. "Look, this one teaches French" or "Look, this one has a great kendo program" or even "so many after school clubs here." Nights spent with the caretaker they'd hired until he was fourteen. And then there was Luke… That kind of betrayal…
So he spent the rest of the night chatting, watching, flirting with Amber. And when she started snuggling up next to him at the bar, he settled the bill, kissed her cheek, and said, "Let's get out of here."
"Take off your dress," he told Amber as soon as they walked into his bedroom.
She smiled drunkenly—eyes glazed and squinting. "What? No foreplay? No telling me how much you've missed me?"
"You know I'm not like that." He began to unbutton his shirt, eyes glued on his fingers.
And he didn't look at her until she slipped out of her dress, bra, and lace panties, until she stood bare in front of him. So different from Rey. Everything bigger—breasts, bottom, legs. Different from her slight, hourglass figure and petite breasts. Girls like Amber had always been his type. At least, that's what he'd thought before Kyoto.
Amber undid the clasp on his dress pants, taking him into her hands. "Ready as usual," she said.
She got on her knees, rolling a condom over him. He relaxed and smiled. He'd waited so long for this. They locked eyes, and she was just about to start, when he remembered. "I don't do blow jobs." Her face so close to his, each of her freckles like brown diamonds in the unnatural bathroom light. The way she smiled—all of her teeth beaming up at him.
He went soft. A feeling—like he'd been punched, unaware, in the stomach.
He couldn't let Amber do this to him. It was wrong.
"What's up with you?" Amber asked, standing up.
"Drank a lot."
Her painted-on brows knitted together. "Never happened to you before."
"Why don't we just call it an early night? I have work tomorrow." He pulled off the condom and put on his briefs and pants again, sitting down on the side of the bed.
Amber rolled her eyes. "We just started and tomorrow's Saturday. Work again?"
"Yeah, well. Not all of us can fuck our way to money," he said, looking away.
She stared at him for a long time, eyes narrowed. "Fuck you," she snapped, putting her clothes back on.
Without looking at him, she snatched her handbag from the bedside table and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
He rubbed his face. What the hell had that been? His first lay in a month, since Rey, and he couldn't even stay hard. It wasn't like he was jacking off every day. It wasn't like he thought about the way her body curved into her hips, the way her lips felt against his, the way she'd tightened around him, her entire body quivering…
He looked down. He was hard. Just as hard as usual. He took off his pants and briefs again. Up and down, up and down. Her laugh. Her breasts. Her hips pressed to his. Her tangled up with him in the elevator, in the hotel bed, on the bathroom floor. Warmth. Her flesh, pliant and welcoming. His. All his. Rey. His Rey.
He came then, spilling onto the wood floor. Still stroking. Still wanting to remember. The way it'd felt—coming inside of her, giving her all of him. No cares. No talks about condoms or being safe. Her body—it all his, to do what he wished—to hold, to caress, to taste.
He breathed out in euphoria, muscles relaxing, and stopped, looking down at the mess.
He needed a drink. A shot. Something—anything strong. He went to the kitchen and poured himself some whiskey, downing the entire thing in one gulp. He poured himself another. Then another.
Fuck it. He grabbed the bottle and sat in his chair by the floor length windows, looking out at the city. Took a sip. Watched. The lights were nothing like that night at Kyoto Tower. Somehow, it was all bland and tired. Without her.
He pulled out his phone and clicked on her contact picture. The one she used for work—professional, a muted red painting her lips. Her smile—unreal, forced. Not like how she'd smiled at him a month ago.
He pressed the video call button, sipping directly from the bottle of whiskey. Ring. He wiped his mouth. Ring. Ring. Ring.
Nothing. Like she'd declined his call. He put a finger to his lips, breathing out. He deserved it, sure, after what he'd done to her.
So he did the most rational thing he could have done in this situation. He called her again. And again. And again.
Rey — London
Rey looked down at her phone, swallowing.
Rose Tico: Where are u?
Be there in 10, Rey typed back, then put her phone back into her purse, eyes focusing on the rectangular box looming across from her.
Her stomach churned, but that wasn't anything new. She'd been nauseous on and off since Wednesday morning when she'd woken up and nearly missed the rubbish bin next to her bedside table. At first, she'd thought it was only a stomach bug. But then it came in waves—after eating, after smelling certain foods like eggs or reheated sausages. Which were her favorites unfortunately.
And now it was Friday, and she was still sick—and had been periodically through the day. Her boobs hurt. Her head hurt. Even her eyes hurt. She was sure she could even fall asleep while standing now. Yet, those weren't the symptoms that concerned her.
Her period was two weeks late. The first week she'd reminded herself over and over, that's just a symptom of the morning after pill, and didn't think about it further. But by the second week, that thought had turned to fear, and so when she'd seen the chemist sign on her way to meet Rose and Finn at the pub, she'd rushed in, feeling sicker than she'd felt all week.
And here she was once again—antagonizing over a box. A box she shouldn't even have to think about since she'd been responsible in the end, late or not. A box that could connect her, for life, to a man that had left her in the middle of the night and whom she hadn't heard from in a month.
She swiped it from the shelf and brought it to the checkout counter, avoiding the cashier's eyes.
When that was done, she wandered to the pub she, Rose, and Finn had frequented for years since they'd met each other when Rey was eighteen—The Girl and the Goat, the mild early May air fanning her face and settling her stomach. It was different than that night in Kyoto with Ben walking beside her—of course it would be. Two separate countries on two separate sides of the world. Even so, the breeze held hints of that night. The night she'd tried hard to forget. Ben walking beside her, looking at her like that. Before it'd all fallen apart—like every relationship in her life. Twenty-one years old… Was it too late to join that convent? She made a note to google, "how to become a nun when you're pregnant," later.
"Rey!" Rose called, waving her hands.
Rey walked over to the table she, Finn, and Poe were sitting at, forcing herself to smile.
"Hey guys… and hey Poe. They didn't tell me you were coming."
"Nah, it was last minute," Poe replied. "Sit. We're only on our second round. What do you want?"
Rey shook her head, knowing and dreading what she had to do next. "That's okay. I'll go order at the bar. Be right back."
She walked over to the bar and locked eyes with the bartender, thanking whatever deity listening that no one was within direct earshot.
"What can I get you?" he asked, flipping his dyed blond hair out of his eyes.
She read his name tag quickly, taking an exasperated breath and leaning against the bar toward him. "Okay, Matt. I hope you're having a lovely evening, but I have a favor."
He laughed. "I've heard that one before."
"I'm going to order vodka and sodas all night, but I want you to make it plain soda water, okay? They'll be extra for you." She flashed him a twenty pound note before stashing it back in her purse pocket.
He raised his eyebrows. "I'll have to charge you for the vodka. Otherwise it won't show up on the bill."
Rey leaned in closer. The gesture could've been considered seductive under other circumstances, but not for what she planned to say next. "I've thrown up twice today, I've got massive heartburn that I swear to God I can feel all the way to my toes, and with all of that comes the likely probability that I've screwed up my life for eighteen years, so charge me whatever you want. They," she gestured with her head to her friends sitting at a table to the right of the bar, "just can't know." She knew she was over sharing—talking to this random stranger; something she rarely did. But the release felt good, natural, when she couldn't tell her friends anything.
Matt threw up his hands. "Hey, no questions asked. Just wanted to let you know how it works."
"I appreciate that. Thanks."
"So vodka and soda?" He winked.
"Yeah, vodka and soda."
"Some of those symptoms passed after the first trimester with my wife, by the way. You'll make it."
Rey chewed on her lip. "Yeah. Maybe," she muttered.
Matt placed her finished drink on the counter. "Here you go. Our secret."
Rey grabbed it and walked back to their table where Rose was smiling suspiciously at her.
"What?" Rey asked, sliding into the seat next to her.
Rose looked away. "Nothing."
Rey's heart beat faster. Had Rose heard her conversation? Did she notice the shaking in her hands? No, shut up brain. She had no way of knowing that.
"What?" Rey repeated, taking a long sip from her drink to calm down.
When Rose didn't answer, Finn rolled his eyes. "Rose is setting you up tonight."
"Finn! It was supposed to be a surprise."
"It would be if you didn't look at everyone like a serial killer whenever you have a secret. It's creepy, babe."
"You're such a party shitter."
"Don't you mean party pooper?"
Rey laughed. "That's her version. Best not ask too many questions or she'll think of more and won't shut up for the rest of the night."
"First I've heard it," Finn said with a smile directed in Rose's direction.
"Speak of the man!" Poe exclaimed, looking at the door.
Rey turned around, meeting the light blue eyes of a man with a round face and bushy eyebrows. But despite that, Rey noted he was rather handsome. Average build. Nice, wide smile and short blond hair. Completely her type; Rose had done well.
However, for some reason, and curse her treacherous heart, she'd hoped for someone else entirely.
The man and Poe did one of those guy handshakes—clapping their hands together and pulling each other into a side hug.
"So I know all you lot," he said, sliding into the chair next to Poe and turning to Rey. "But I haven't met you yet. I'm Niall." He extended his hand, and Rey took it hesitatingly, surprised by his strong grip.
"I'm Rey," she said softly when they broke apart. "Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, you too. I've known this tosser since junior high." He gestured to Poe with his thumb. "But I just met those two a month ago. I think you were away in Japan when they had their house warming party?"
"Extravaganza," Rose corrected. "Get it right, goofball. It was on the e-invitation."
Niall chuckled. "Forgot. But yeah. Japan. How was it?"
"It was really great," Rey said, scratching the back of her head.
"Except for that bastard," Rose stated.
"What? Who?" All Rey could see was long brown hair and eyes. But Rose didn't know about that. Rey hadn't told anyone about Ben, about what happened, how he'd left.
"Whatever his name was. Haruki?"
"Oh yeah. It's no problem. He just had to work late. He already apologized."
"Yeah, ohhhkay." Rose sipped her wine. "Not showing up and not calling for days afterward is okay."
"That's rough, mate," Niall said. "I've seen that happen before. I worked as a bartender for five years. Recently got an office job slaving away like the rest of you." He shrugged. "But you can't do that kinda work forever, so good on you. Doing great things, eh?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Rey's a severe turbulent. Don't mind her. She's actually quite brilliant. She graduated last year at twenty with a degree in Business."
"Business Management," Rey corrected.
"See? Brilliant. Took me five years to finish uni, and she did it in two, so that tells you something. And because of her, our company's doing ah-mazing, like really really ah-mazing."
Rey shifted in her seat. "I'm alright, thanks. I just joined at a time when the boards were looking to try different companies. Coincidence."
"Alright, now you're the party shitter."
"No, that's awesome," Niall interrupted. "Took a while to finish university myself."
Rose raised her eyebrows, looking at Rey. "See? Now be quiet."
"Ha! Yes, ma'am," Rey said with a laugh, finishing off the rest of her drink.
"What can I get you?" Niall asked, standing up.
"Vodka and soda, but you really don't need to—"
"Vodka?" Rose said with an incredulous tone. "Since when? You hate vodka. Ever since Evan's house party where we all got sloshed and ended up dying the next day."
Rey shrugged, rubbing her sweaty fingers together. "It's been like three years. I just started drinking it again."
"And what else are you hiding, hmm?"
If you only knew… she thought, remembering the pregnancy test in her purse.
"It's just vodka. I tell you everything," Rey said, the lie flowing off her tongue with little effort. Everything except for Ben.
It would all be okay if she could at least be honest.
Yet… she wasn't so sure. Because all she could see, all she could think about, was Rose's disappointed expression, the brows furrowed, mouth a straight line, when she whispered those two little words. And then there was Mara, Leia, Finn, Poe, Amilyn… How everyone, everyone who had believed in and trusted her would react.
Monday. She'd take the test Monday morning. One more weekend without worry. One more weekend before she'd know for sure.
Niall left, and Rey looked over at Matt, meeting his eyes briefly.
When Niall came back with a new drink, Rey took a sip, plain soda water slipping across her teeth again. Better get used to it now. She'd have nine months of no alcohol ahead of her if her suspicions were correct.
She shook her head to clear the thought. Monday. It was decided. That's when she'd start to worry. Once it was confirmed and that plus sign stared back at her. Worrying hadn't gotten her anywhere in Kyoto. Ben had still left; she'd still taken the pill. She couldn't change the outcome even if she wanted to. That was the way of the world.
Thus, for the rest of the night, she laughed with her friends and showed an interest in Niall—if only to mollify Rose. Let herself pretend. Pretend that Ben didn't exist. Pretend that her stomach didn't hurt and she wasn't drinking plain soda water for the first time in the history of her bar hopping days. Pretend that yet another box wasn't wrapped tightly at the bottom of her purse.
Monday, Monday, Monday…
A ritual, a prayer.
And she didn't think about it for a whole seven hours—until she was curled up in bed with her usual two fans on high blast. When her phone buzzed on the nightstand, waking her up, and she looked down and saw his name again.
Kylo
"What do you want?" came her sleepy voice over the phone. But he wasn't processing. Because, here she was on, on his screen, surrounded by a dark room.
She'd answered his call. Finally.
"I just wanted to call you." He swung the whiskey bottle back again.
She rubbed her eyes. "You're drunk. I'm hanging up now."
"Wait! Not yet. I…"
She stared at him, waiting.
"I'm sorry about last month," he said lamely.
"Yeah, you already said that. I found your note."
A few moments of silence then he said, "I miss you."
"Ha! You miss me? You're a great liar. I'll give you that."
"It's not a lie," he whispered.
"Right and so was all that shit about it not being about sex. You got what you wanted and left."
"I'm sorry."
"Once again—you've already apologized. Sorry doesn't fix everything, Ben."
He took another swig, tears starting to pool in his eyes. "I fucked up."
She laughed. "You left in the middle of the night after one disagreement."
"It wasn't just one disagreement."
"Oh, really? Then what was it? What stereotypical excuse do you have? Come on. You were afraid of your feelings? I meant too much too fast?"
"What? No." He paused. "Why didn't you tell me about the pill?"
"Maybe because it's my body? Don't tell me you left because of that. You wanted me to take it."
He looked away. "You didn't ask me."
"We're not even together, Ben."
"You still should have fucking told me!" he shouted, throwing the bottle to the ground. It shattered; she winced.
"I don't have to tell you anything!" she yelled back.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"
"Save it. It's been so pleasant chatting with you, but I'd really like to go back to sleep. It's my one day to sleep in. Stop calling me."
"Next month," he blurted out. "Yu-Yuki is getting married. Come with me."
"What are you going on about?"
He cleared his throat. "Yuki is getting married in Kyoto next month. I can bring a guest, and a few members from the various BOEs in the Kyoto Prefecture should be there. Come with me. It wasn't just about sex. It never was. Let me make it up to you."
"Why? So you can leave again?" Her eyes fluttered to his, glassy with tears. "No."
"One hotel room."
"What?"
"I'll get one hotel room. So I can't leave. I won't leave. I promise."
She sighed, eyes glazing over. "No. Now I'm going back to sleep. Goodnight."
"Rey—"
But she was gone, and he was left staring at shattered glass, spilled whiskey, and an empty room.
He didn't call her again for the rest of the weekend.
The hours seemed to drag. He sat in his chair, paced the apartment, tried to paint. Barely working. Barely eating. Unable to focus. All he could think about was her and how he could get her to go with him next month.
Alexander called him. Then Yuto. But he didn't answer. He knew he'd pay on Monday at the office in the form of a verbal chew out, but he couldn't speak. Not after talking to her on Friday night. Even if it weren't advisable or rational or smart, he couldn't think about anyone other than her.
And she didn't want anything to do with him.
He went out to another bar on Saturday night, watching each girl that came through the door, thinking maybe this time he could do it—find someone for the night. Someone to get his mind off her. He attempted to talk to a few girls until he couldn't take it anymore, went out to the smoking area, and burned through five cigarettes in one standing.
Afterward, he threw the rest of the pack in the trash and walked home. Smashed a lamp. Then had to do two hundred push-ups, take a cold shower, and drink half a bottle of whiskey just to calm down.
What had she done to him?
In the middle of the night on Sunday, unable to sleep, he stood in front of a blank canvas and tried to paint. But when he brought the brush to the canvas, his hand shook. Images in his head—ones of her smiling up at him. That's what he wanted to paint. He looked around his room at the multicolored walls. Kanji of all kinds and meanings etched into the surface. Mountains with snow caps. Purple wisteria dripping from a trellis. Camilla, hydrangea, cherry blossoms, nightshade… But the last stood out to him—lotuses shaded a burning crimson red, in each corner of the room.
He put the brush down and grabbed some origami paper from the bedside table and made lotus after lotus until they covered his black comforter entirely. One corner, done. Next. Fold. Next.
It was almost soothing—the routine. In high school, when he'd struggled to learn Japanese, it was a release, something familiar. He could make hundreds of other shapes with the paper, but he always found himself going back to the origami lotus.
He picked up another piece of paper from the bedside table and began folding it, remembering how Rey had seemed to love them as much as he did. "Did you do this?"
He stopped; a plan formed. And before he could think any more, he was on the phone making arrangements for Monday.
Rey
Of course she'd answered after the fifth call because she was a masochist with atrocious taste in men. Now or never for open dialogue with him. Better to start early—get a few jabs in and show him how he wasn't going to treat her from now on.
Regardless, the call ruined the rest of her weekend. Ruined it and put her in a bad mood she couldn't shake. He actually had the nerve to ask her to go to Kyoto with him! After he'd left and ignored her for a month. "It wasn't just about sex." Like hell it wasn't. He'd been drunk, alone, and without a fuck for the night. That's what she told herself, at least, and it felt like the truth. Every relationship blogger certified and guaranteed it.
She missed breakfast on Sunday with Rose. For the first time in a while, she stayed in bed, the duvet pulled over her head.
Until Mara came in. And then she reluctantly lowered it. "What's up, my love? Did you cancel on Rose today?" Mara asked, her face crinkling with concern.
"Just a bad night's sleep," Rey assured her.
Mara placed a hand to her forehead and fussed over her anyway with comments varying from "you feel warm" to "are you hungover?" to "you snogged some sick dude Friday night, didn't you?"
Again, Rey assured her it was nothing to be concerned about—only a bad night's sleep. Thankfully her stomach cooperated. The rest of the weekend passed like that—bad mood, nausea, throbbing boobs, heartburn, the urge to pee fifty thousand times. And hiding it all on top of it. She binge watched soap operas like a hermit and nibbled on saltine crackers, her latest restoration project—an old table—standing desolate in the corner of the room.
Despite it all, Monday morning came, and Rey woke up an hour early at 5 A.M., pattering to the shared bathroom in the flat, test in hand. This time she didn't think or allow her mind to wander to what ifs. She wouldn't have a repeat of those two meltdowns in Kyoto.
She read the directions once, peed on the applicator as instructed, and waited the required minute, the timer on her phone set and counting down.
She didn't look at the test—only her phone. Fifty seconds. Twenty-nine seconds. Ten. Her stomach twinged, mouth filling with saliva. Fuck. She rushed to the toilet, retching as the timer blared. Third damn day in a row waking up and puking everywhere, even when she didn't have anything but acidic bile to expel.
Flushing the toilet and wiping her mouth, she walked back to the sink counter where the applicator rested.
There it was—well shaded and undeniable.
A dark blue cross.
She glanced at it, numb, unable to do anything but stare and stare. Not blinking. At least now she knew for sure—false positives were rare, and with her symptoms...
She didn't cry. Not this time. Instead, she grabbed a small plastic bag Mara used to store various stray hair bobbies from under the sink and sealed the test up. A reminder when she began to doubt if it'd all been a dream. Maybe she'd even take the passive-aggressive way of telling Ben—wrap it, bow and all, and ship it to him priority mail. She could already imagine the look on his face.
Turning sideways, she pulled up her nightshirt and glanced at her stomach in the mirror. She wasn't showing yet; it was too early. But she was bloated, and somehow she just knew. The test was correct. The pill hadn't worked.
She'd think about how to tell him later—if at all. If she didn't consider... the alternative option. So she jumped in the shower, got dressed, and cooked breakfast excluding the eggs, waiting for Mara and Luke to get up.
And when Mara emerged from her bedroom, sleepy-eyed and curious, Rey forced a smile and handed her a plate.
What was done, was just that—done. She had to work. The world wouldn't wait. And neither would she.
At around five, Rey's office phone rang. Caller I.D.: Reception. "Hey, Rose," Rey said, chewing on her lip. "What's up? I have a meeting with Leia and Mara in five minutes."
"Urgent package for you. You need to sign for it personally."
Who could that be from? Rey wondered. She never received packages at work. She didn't work in immigration where they helped process the visas for their recruits.
Standing up and grabbing her I.D., she walked out to the reception area.
"Rey Jackson?" the delivery man inquired. Rey glanced at the medium-sized, ordinary-looking package. Just a box. The usual. But Rey's eyebrows furrowed anyway.
She showed him her I.D. and signed for it, saying a quick, "Thanks," before taking it from him and walking back to her desk.
There was no return name—only an address. Chicago. Strange. She considered opening it later when she had more time, but curiosity nagged at her.
So she grabbed a pair of scissors and cut into it, turning the flaps up and peering inside.
Red tissue paper. The same color as—
She tore into that too, pulling out a lotus exactly like the one she'd left on the hotel floor in Kyoto. But this time, she had at least a hundred. They lined the box top to bottom, beautiful and impossibly red.
A new note—one much neater and put-together in his exquisite handwriting: I'm sorry. Can we try again?
Despite what he'd done, despite the call and ignoring her for the past month, she smiled wide—her cheeks naturally growing hot. It must have taken him hours to make all of these. But could she forgive him so easily?
"Rey?" Leia called from her office. "Meeting?"
Rey jumped, the lotus slipping from her hand and falling to the floor. Leia tracked its descent, her head tilted slightly to the right.
"Be there in a second," Rey said, tossing the fallen lotus into the box.
However, when she looked back up, Leia was now focused on her, staring with knowing eyes. As if she knew everything. About her. About Ben. Their relationship, the lotuses, the fact that she was carrying what would one day be her grandchild…
But Rey hadn't told anyone about Ben. Leia couldn't know that. Regardless, Leia's eyes held a certainty and… worry. Worry Rey had never seen touch her features before. Rey didn't know how much she knew or could know, but that made the feeling worse somehow.
It was then that she realized. She was six weeks already. Another six and her abdomen would be further distended—and not only from bloating. Another six after that and she wouldn't be able to lie at all. She could hide it behind baggy shirts and dresses, but eventually, everyone would know, if they didn't already suspect it from her increased trips to the bathroom.
Ignoring Leia's eyes, Rey pulled out her phone, took a picture of the box's contents, and typed a quick message to Ben.
Briefly, she ran her fingers across her abdomen, knowing what she needed to do. She had to. It wasn't only her anymore.
Kylo
"Sit down, Ren," Alexander said when Kylo entered his office on Monday.
"A meeting before lunch. Not our usual."
"Yes, well." Alexander folded his hands together, looking at Kylo sternly from his black leather chair.
It was almost lunch time, and Kylo had been dreading this meeting since he'd received the notification at 7 A.M. A random conference with Alexander never meant anything good.
Kylo glanced to the right, meeting stiff, short red hair and hard-set eyes. Huxley—Hux for short. Their assistant state-side representative, mainly in charge of helping Kylo recruit teachers across America.
"I thought you only wanted to meet with me," Kylo said, sitting down.
"I won't even address your lack of competence this weekend. We had an off-site meeting scheduled for Saturday which you disregarded."
"I sent you an email. I wasn't feeling well."
"Yes… I saw." Alexander leaned back in his chair. "But while you were pissing away your money at bars this weekend, I received an email from the Kyoto Board. Next year, they have unanimously decided to end half our contracts with them."
"What? I just spoke with them two weeks ago. They assured me we shouldn't worry about next year."
"Perhaps if you hadn't vanished from the restaurant on your last night in Kyoto and reminded them of the importance of First English, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Kylo swallowed. "I doubt it has anything to do with that."
"No… but your absence was noted." Alexander glared at him. "Among other things."
"We discussed this already," Kylo said, his heart racing. "It's business. The boards like Rey. If I had her as my assistant, I doubt we'd be losing any more contracts."
"You know the issue is more complicated than that. For the last eight years, we have been the fastest growing company providing English teachers to Japan, dominating both the private and public markets." Alexander stood, looking at the pictures of his family lining the bookshelf behind his desk. Family Kylo had only met once despite knowing Alexander for more than twenty years. "The boards want new blood. More competition, more choice. So they've turned to the English Resistance. How grand is that?" He paced right to left. "But we can't allow this to happen. We must remind them why we became the top company in the country. And that starts with you… Ren."
"What are you talking about?"
Alexander gestured to Hux. "Huxley will be taking over your duties stateside."
"What? He can't. I have meetings planned with universities all over the country. They expect to see me. "
"Your work visa is already in process. You'll move to Tokyo next month. That's final."
Rey's words rang through his mind. He'll crush you. All those years, helping Alexander, being practically his second in command, and he didn't even think to ask him how he felt about moving to Tokyo before arranging it.
Years of blind service. Bribes. Backdoor deals...
Something snapped. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not fucking moving to Tokyo."
Alexander smiled invitingly. Before—
Bang! His hands smashed against the desk. Kylo winced.
"Only trash talks like that. But how could I blame you? Considering what family you came from."
Kylo looked at his feet, but knew not to speak out of turn again. Why had he done that?
"You forget who bailed you out eight years ago. Had news of what you did reached the press, no company would have worked with you. You owe me everything." He sat back down. "Now you will move or Hux will be replacing you entirely. And you will never use that language in my presence again. Am I clear?"
Kylo met his eyes, jaw clenched. "Yes sir."
"Good."
Hux glanced at Kylo. "It won't be so bad, Ren. I hear you do well with the Japanese ladies."
Kylo scoffed. "You're so right."
"Our dear Ren is only interested in one lady in particular," Alexander said. "But you will end that, if you must, won't you, Ben?"
Kylo's head snapped up at the sound. Alexander hadn't called him that in years. "You have my word. If she won't quit, then I'll do whatever I can to ensure her career is short lived."
"Very good."
The room fell quiet, almost eerily so—the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room.
Buzz. Kylo's phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the aura. Buzz. Buzz. He sighed, pulling it out.
Rey Jackson sent you an image. He smiled, the lotuses he'd sent her filling his screen.
Rey Jackson: How am I supposed to explain these, lol.
Then:
But thank you. Call me later? I want to talk about next month…
His heart raced, palms sweating. The gift had worked. His fingers reached for the letters on the touchscreen, already working to type a response.
"No phones during meetings," Alexander snapped. "You know the rules."
Kylo put his phone down. "I'm sorry."
"You're dismissed. We'll have our usual meeting at four concerning our numbers for the month."
Hux stood and left, and Kylo followed after him, pulling out his phone again. But before he could leave, Alexander called out, "And Ren?"
Kylo stopped, lingering at the door and turning back around.
"Do remind our lovely Rey that love has conditions and…" Alexander looked him up and down. "Consequences."
Author's Notes
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The songs that inspired this chapter were "Ecos de Amor" by Jesse y Joy (English Version: "Echoes of Love," but the Spanish Version is prettier in my opinion), "Consequences" by Camila Cabello, "New Rules" by Dua Lipa, and "Here With Me" by Elina.
Special thank you to my betas, Lou (Way_of_the_pathfinder) and Bex (SilverstarWolfe). Lou read through it a few times and commented on it as it was progressing. Moreover, Bex helped with the initial stages of this chapter by reading through the first part, though she wasn't able to do a final read through. As always, please check out their amazing SW fics. Bex: Holding On To Hope | Pathfinder: Guardian of the Night
