Chapter 3 - Unexpected Reunion

Val

Unexpected Reunion

“Ms. Valeria Rowan. Please, take a seat.” His voice was formal, clipped, too professional to be natural.

I sat down, staring at my hands in my lap, wishing I could melt into the chair and disappear. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.

“Val… is that you?” he asked, uncertainty lacing his tone.

“The very same.” My laugh was dry, brittle. God, could the floor just open up and swallow me now?

“Are you… married now?”

I snapped my gaze up to him. He looked older, sharper in a way, but those same grey eyes still pinned me in place. “Is that even a proper question for an interview?”

He flinched, then ran a hand over his jaw. “No, of course not. You caught me off guard. Last time I saw you, it was… what, seven, eight years?”

“Seven,” I said flatly. “Maybe eight. I don’t know.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling. Then, softly: “I got robbed. After that night at the Marriott—my car, my phone, my laptop. Everything was gone. I tried to reach out, Val, I swear. But I didn’t know how. Years later I searched for you on social media, but you weren’t there either. I’m… sorry.”

Sorry. That one word burned worse than all the silence.

I swallowed hard, forcing steel into my spine. “Let’s just… get back to business, so I don’t waste your time.”

His mouth tightened. “Alright.”

The next thirty minutes were torture. Question, answer. Question, answer. Both of us pretending this was just another interview. Pretending we hadn’t once burned each other alive in a hotel room.

Finally, he closed the folder. “We’ll be in touch soon.”

I nodded, stood, and left before the silence strangled me completely.

\~\~\~

That night, I sat at my desk, red pen in hand, grading high school essays that suddenly looked more tragic than Shakespeare. My phone buzzed with an unknown number.

I almost ignored it. Almost.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ms. Valeria Rowan?”

The voice. That voice.

“Yes,” I said slowly.

“This is Christopher Cornell from Heartfelt University.” His tone started formal, then slipped into something softer, more familiar. “I wanted to let you know you got the job. But… for it to be official, you’ll need to have dinner with me tonight. We’ll talk it over.”

My pulse spiked. “That feels like a serious abuse of authority.”

“Worth the risk,” he said smoothly. “Seven o’clock. I’ll text you the address.”

My lips betrayed me, curving. “Fine. Deal.”

\~\~\~

The restaurant was dim, quiet, the kind of place where the wine list was heavier than my laptop. I arrived early — but he was already there. Jacket draped over his chair, tie loosened, impossibly composed.

“Val.” He stood, pulling out my chair like this was the 1950s. His hand brushed mine as I sat, and the touch sent a shock racing up my arm.

“Chris,” I said, my voice catching on his name.

The waiter arrived; Chris ordered red wine before I could breathe. Like this was a board meeting. Like he hadn’t once kissed me until I forgot how to breathe.

“So,” I said, trying for cool, “am I really hired? Or is this just the longest second interview in history?”

His lips twitched. “You’re hired. This is… just dinner.”

Awkward silence. The scrape of cutlery. Too much space between us, too much history pressing in.

I broke first. “You know, when someone disappears for seven years, a girl might assume she was just another notch in the bedpost.”

His eyes snapped up — sharp, then softening. “Val, I told you. I lost everything that night. And for years… I tried to find you.”

I traced the rim of my glass. “You could’ve tried harder.”

His answer came low. “You’re right.”

I blinked. No excuses. No fight. Just that.

I swallowed hard. “So why leave UPenn? Why trade the Ivy League for a smaller place like Heartfelt?”

He hesitated. “Because I needed to start over. That’s the answer I give on paper.” His eyes darkened, locking onto mine. “The truth? Something was missing. I didn’t know what. But I kept looking for you. So I came back. I knew if I couldn’t find you, Mary would.”

The air left my lungs.

The waiter saved me, dropping plates between us, the moment breaking. We murmured thanks in unison, our voices tripping over each other, and both of us laughed awkwardly.

He studied me again, too long, too deep. “So. High school teaching. That must’ve been… something.”

“It was fine,” I said. “Kids falling in love, breaking up, crying over prom. At least they felt everything fully.”

“And you didn’t?”

His question cut close. I stabbed my fork into lettuce. “Not since… a long time ago.”

By dessert, we’d exhausted small talk. Books. Travel. Work. Every word was polite, but every silence screamed.

Finally, he leaned forward, his fork abandoned. “Val, we can keep pretending this is just dinner. Or we can admit what’s really happening here.”

My breath caught. “And what’s that?”

His mouth curved, but his eyes stayed serious. “That you’re the only woman I’ve thought about for seven years.”

The air vanished from my chest.

I didn’t know if I wanted to run… or kiss him until the whole damn restaurant disappeared.

\~\~\~

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