The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee
Chapter Fifty-Three
Yuna
The entire way to meet the man my mother has chosen for me, I think about the way Declan appeared in the lobby. He looked tired. Haggard, even. I don’t know why it bothers me. He’s nothing to me now. Why should I care if he’s not resting like he should?
I can’t believe he apologized for missing the party.
It’s so frustrating that he doesn’t get that it isn’t about the party. But maybe the fact that he doesn’t understand what’s really wrong is the problem. I thought he understood what I need and want, but he really doesn’t. I’ve been deluding myself because I was dazzled by him and wanted us to have a future.
But I know as well as anyone that that’s the surest way to screw up a relationship. And I don’t want to be with the wrong person and waste the best part of my youth on him. I learned early on that it’s best to get what I want, rather than sort of what I want. Every time I didn’t, I ended up regretting it, whether it was a relationship, friendship or something as inconsequential as a dress.
I try to breathe slowly to calm myself before the pointless lunch. There’s no way it will result in marriage, like my mother wants. But a promise is a promise. I can sacrifice one lousy meal to make her happy. We all have to eat, after all.
The restaurant is a bright French bistro near the UCLA campus. I make my way to a table in the corner that has a view of a small man-made pond.
The man’s in a suit—as is the custom for a matsun meeting. His black hair is neatly slicked back, showing a lean face with a firm jaw. His eyes are so dark they look almost pure black, which is a bit unusual.
He stands at the sight of me and extends a hand. “I’m Ryu Taejo.” His voice is low and slightly raspy. A smoker, possibly. “Nice to meet you.”
I pump twice firmly. “Hae Yuna. Pleasure.”
“You have a great grip.” He waits until I’m seated before sitting down himself, all polite and smooth.
“Years of playing the piano.”
“Yes, I heard about that.”
A server brings out menus and drops them off, but I don’t look at mine.
“Just so you know, I have a woman I love,” Taejo says once we’re alone.
I raise an eyebrow. “You must’ve hidden her well.” Or his family has been extremely sloppy in getting rid of her.
“It’s for the best,” he says calmly.
For the woman, no doubt. I doubt his parents would be very understanding of him falling in love with a woman who has less-than-acceptable qualifications. “So why are you here?”
“My mother insisted.” A small smile twists his lips.
“So we do have something in common.”
He laughs. “And do you have a man you love?”
Declan immediately pops into my head. If this were before last Sunday, I would’ve said yes. But now…
“No.” I forcibly shove him out of my head. But something must be wrong with my filter, because I add, “Have you ever missed her birthday? Or an anniversary?”
I immediately regret asking the question. I only wanted to know if I’m being unreasonably upset with Declan. But why should I have to confirm my emotions with a stranger?
Taejo frowns a little. “No. Never.”
His ready answer makes me pause. I suppose he could be lying. But his gaze is too serious.
“Not even when you have an important business deal?” I say lightly to hide how much his response surprised me and made me feel sadder and more upset about Declan.
“There will always be another deal. It isn’t worth neglecting her on a special day just for more money. If I wanted a wife who I don’t mind abandoning on her birthdays and anniversaries, I would’ve married one of the women my mother pushed in my direction years ago.”
Hearing it hurts more. Why couldn’t Declan have seen that my birthday was about more than just an expensive gift? “Then I’m very glad you’re being honest with me today. I’m not interested in a man who loves someone else. I’m not that desperate, and I deserve better.”
And I do. That’s why I’ve stubbornly fought my parents all these years. I’m not going to change that just because Declan hurt me.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” A sliver of warmth shows on his face. “It’s best if we tell our mothers you didn’t care for me.”
“That’s not a problem.” I finally pick up my menu. “Separate checks?”
We should at least have a meal to appease our parents. Otherwise, they’ll just insist that we do this again because there’s no way we could learn about our compatibility so fast.
He shakes his head. “That would horrify my mother. My treat.”
“Thank you.”
I have a simple entrée, then a slice of cake so sweet it almost rots my teeth on the spot. I need something to erase the sad bitterness in my heart.