The charity gala is quite the scene.
Golden lights hang from the ceiling. Soft music plays in the background. Cameras flash everywhere. Everyone looks perfect, like they came out of a magazine.
And then there's me, feeling a little lost.
My dress is long and tight. My heels hurt my feet. My hands are sweaty as I hold onto my small clutch. I stay close to Kairo, trying not to stand out.
Kairo looks good in his black suit. His hand rests gently on my back as he guides me through the crowd.
He seems cool and collected.
I'm not quite there.
When the speeches end and people start talking, I step away to grab a drink from a waiter.
That's when it happens.
My heel stops on the carpet, and I trip.
I gasp and stumble forward.
Everything moves slightly around me.
Before I can fall, Kairo catches me.
His arms wrap around me fast, pulling me close.
For a second, the world spins. Then it settles. I can hear the cameras clicking. And I can feel his breath mixing with mine.
He doesn't let go right away.
I don't either.
For a moment, it's just us, his arms around me, my hands grabbing his jacket, breathing together.
I finally pull back.
His hands slide off my waist, but not before his thumb brushes lightly over my hip, slow, like he isn't ready to let go.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
I stumble back, my face burning. "I'm fine," I blurt out, way too fast.
Kairo's eyes stay on me, dark and unreadable. His jaw ticks like he's holding something back.
All around us, flashes go off like tiny explosions.
People are staring. Cameras are everywhere. We're a scene now.
Before I can think of what to do next, Kairo leans in, voice low in my ear. "Come on."
He slides his hand back around my waist, firm and sure, and steers me toward the dance floor.
The music shifts into something slow and rich. A love song, of course.
"Kairo..." I start, but he cuts me off by taking my hand.
He pulls me into him, smooth and easy, like we've done this a thousand times before. His hand settles on my hip, the other holding my fingers in a loose but sure grip.
The world narrows to just us.
We move in slow circles. My heels brush against the polished floor. His thumb moves lazily against my side, tracing little invisible patterns through the fabric of my dress.
I try not to notice.
I try not to lean into him.
But it's hard when his body is so solid, so close. When his scent, clean, expensive, maddening, fills my head.
"You're shaking," he murmurs against my hair.
"I'm not," I lie.
His chuckle is low, almost soundless. "Liar."
I tip my head back enough to glare at him, but the look he gives me knocks the fight right out of my chest.
Something warm. Something real.
The song feels endless. Or maybe it's too short. I can't tell anymore.
When it finally slows to an end, he pulls back, just a little.
But his hand lingers on my waist.
His fingers press into the small of my back, keeping me close for one extra heartbeat.
And then another.
I don't dare breathe.
The flashes come again, bright and sharp in the corners of my vision.
The way he's still holding me like I'm the only person in this glittering room who matters.
I pull away fast, every nerve sparking, my skin still burning from where he touched me.
I don't know when pretending started feeling real.
After the song fades and we finally break apart, Kairo leads me back to our table with a hand placed firmly at the small of my back. His touch is steady. Protective.
I can still feel the heat of his hand even after he lets go.
The waiters are already setting plates down by the time we sit. The clink of silverware, soft laughter, and low chatter buzz around us, but somehow it all feels distant.
When I move to pull out my chair, Kairo beats me to it.
He smoothly tugs it back for me like it's second nature.
Something small and warm flutters in my chest.
It's nothing. Just manners.
But when he pushes the chair in and gives my shoulder a slight brush with his hand, it feels like more.
He sits beside me, shoulders broad and still, scanning the dishes as the servers start describing the food. I reach for one of the fancy little plates in front of me, something creamy and sweet-smelling, but Kairo's hand suddenly closes over my wrist.
I freeze, blinking at him.
"Not that," he says quietly, leaning in. "It has almonds."
I blink again. "How do you...?"
He doesn't answer right away. He just signals the waiter calmly, asking for another plate without nuts. Then he glances at me, his face all serious and unreadable, but his voice comes low enough for only me to hear.
"You're allergic to nuts, remember?"
My throat tightens.
He remembered.
I don't even remember mentioning it to him.
Maybe I did, sometime in passing. Maybe he just… noticed.
Either way, it stirs something deep in me. Something tender and dangerous.
Nobody's paid attention to little things like that in a long, long time.
When the new dish comes, Kairo waits for me to take the first bite before touching his food.
He doesn't smile, doesn't make a big deal out of it. He just watches me, silent but steady, making sure I'm safe.
The simple thought that he's paying attention, that he's looking out for me in a room full of strangers, fills my chest with something bittersweet.
I eat slowly, the flavors fading behind the rush of emotions spinning through me.
For the first time in a long time, I don't feel alone at a table, I don't feel like I have to protect myself.
Kairo does it without even being asked.
And it scares me how much I like it.
When we get home, my phone blows up.
Pictures of Kairo holding me close are all over the place.
Twitter, Instagram, and news sites.
And the tag they all use?
"CEO Sweet Moment with His Wife at the Gala."
My heart races as I scroll through the photos. Each one looks... intimate. Real.
It's all overwhelming.
I put my phone down, just wanting to disappear for a bit.
Then I hear Kairo's voice on the phone, giving a statement.
"Yes," he says calmly. "She's my wife. I'll always catch her."
I freeze.
My stomach lurches.
He says it so naturally, like it's a given.
Like it's true.
I grip the kitchen counter, feeling a bit light-headed.
I shouldn't care or feel anything, but my heart has other ideas.
It skips a beat. And deep down, where I wish I didn't know... I can't help it.
I'm falling. And honestly, it's the scariest feeling I've ever had.