Chasing his Human Mate

I felt a faint heat rise to my cheeks but kept my tone calm. “Travis is only five, and I don’t have any plans for a relationship right now. He’s happy, content, and I’m focused on being his mother, Mrs. Boston.”

They exchanged a glance and chuckled. “We were just teasing,” Mr. Boston said. “We didn’t mean to offend you.”

I laughed, letting the moment pass easily. “Nothing to take seriously, Mr. Boston. I don’t take it seriously.”

Ethan smiled quietly at me, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that small, private way only I noticed.

With the playful tension behind us, I reached for my portfolio, placing it carefully on the table. My fingers lingered on the edge for just a moment longer, not from hesitation, but from anticipation.

“Anyway, here is my design for your dream watch,” I said as I opened the envelope and showed my sketch.

“This design,” I began, my voice calm but confident, “is not just a watch. It’s a reflection of twenty-five years of marriage, endurance, devotion, and the beauty of shared time.”

They leaned in slightly, curiosity sparking in their eyes.

“The casing is crafted from platinum,” I continued, pointing to the rendering. “Durable, strong… like a bond that withstands life’s challenges.”

“The dial features twenty-five subtle markers along the inner rim,” I said, letting my finger trace them gently. “Each represents a year of your journey together.”

Mrs. Boston’s eyes softened, glancing at her husband. He nodded ever so slightly, focused.

“And the hands,” I added, my tone softening just a bit, “are shaped to meet at the center in continuous motion. No matter how far they move, they always return to each other.”

They were silent, absorbing every detail.

“And on the back casing,” I said, sliding the rendering closer, “there’s a private engraving. Something personal. Something only the two of you will ever see. A reminder of the love you’ve nurtured over time.”

Mrs. Boston’s fingers hovered above the portfolio as if afraid to touch it. “It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.

Mr. Boston studied it quietly, then slowly nodded. “You’ve captured more than design. You’ve captured the essence of marriage.”

A warmth spread through me, not pride, but validation. This was mine, earned.

The waiter arrived with our food, but for a moment, it went untouched. The design had already been spoken.

Mr. Boston exchanged a glance with his wife. “We’ll take it,” he said decisively.

Ethan gave me a small nod, sliding the agreement forward. I watched them sign it, ten million dollars sealed with ink.

Dinner followed, lighter now, filled with laughter and easy conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Boston teased us gently a few more times, making jokes about future family adventures, but I laughed with them, letting the warmth of the moment wash over me.

When it was time to leave, Mr. Boston extended his hand again. “A remarkable presentation, Miss Jones.”

I shook it firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Boston.”

Mrs. Boston smiled, placing her hand briefly over mine. “You’ve given us more than a design tonight. You’ve reminded us why love lasts.”

I met her gaze, letting the sincerity settle. “I’m glad.”

We watched them leave together, side by side, hands finding each other naturally. The night air felt crisp as we stepped outside and I glanced at Ethan.

“We did it,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He gave me that small, reassuring smile. “I knew it.”

And I believed it too.

Ethan gave me a small, “Congratulations,” he said once we were inside. “Ten million dollars, Billie. That calls for a drink.”

I shook my head, smiling. “I don’t usually drink… you know that.”

He gave me that playful look I’d grown familiar with over the years, the one that quietly dared me. “Just one bottle. One. For celebration.”

I laughed, but I nodded. “Fine. One bottle. Just to make you happy.”

He grinned, clearly pleased.

We found a quiet little wine bar nearby, dimly lit with amber lights reflecting off the glasses. Ethan ordered a bottle of red, and as the cork popped, I felt a rare lightness in my chest—a mix of relief, pride, and… gratitude.

We poured the wine, clinking our glasses softly.

“To the deal,” Ethan said.

“To the deal,” I echoed, letting the rich taste fill me.

After a quiet sip, I looked at him. “Ethan… thank you. For everything. For helping me build my career, for always being there… for being a good friend when I thought I couldn’t trust anyone again.”

He smiled softly, the kind of smile that carried years of understanding. “You did all the work, Billie. I just stood beside you.”

“I know,” I said, feeling the warmth of the moment. “But it means everything to me.”

“Billie, you're my sister’s best friend, so I should take care of you and help you out, or else she will wake up from her grave and punch me in the face,” he laughed.

Her cousin, my best friend Emily, from my college days… he made me think of her, and now no words can express how grateful I am to have had a best friend like her. If she hadn’t died in that car accident, she would be here too. We would be three, not just two.

Before my tears could fall, I sipped a glass of wine.

We drank in silence for a few minutes, savoring the wine and the quiet of the evening. Then Ethan leaned back, looking thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking about expanding the business,” he said casually. “Maybe opening a branch in another city… What do you think?”

I smiled, placing a hand on his arm lightly. “Whatever decision you make, I’ll support you. You know that.”

He looked at me, appreciation flickering in his eyes, then laughed softly. “You always know what to say.”

We finished the bottle together, laughter and quiet conversations flowing easily between us, the kind that felt effortless and safe. Eventually, Ethan stood.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat with that familiar ease.

The drive was calm, quiet except for the soft hum of the engine. I let my thoughts drift, replaying the evening’s successes, the couple’s smiles, the way my designs had finally been appreciated for everything they were worth.

When we arrived at my house, I thanked him again before stepping inside. “Thanks for tonight, Ethan. Really. For everything.”

“Always, Billie,” he replied. “Now, get some rest… and don’t forget to celebrate a little tomorrow too.”

I gave him a small wave as he drove off, the sound of the car fading into the night.

Inside, I paused at the doorway.

“Maria?” I called to my maid.

“Where’s my son?” Maria appeared, smiling. “Good Evening, ma’am.Oh… your son, Travis, is already asleep. School wore him out, ma’am.”

A rush of longing hit me. I hadn’t seen him all day, caught up in meetings, preparations, and the client dinner.

I quietly made my way to his room. The soft glow from his nightlight illuminated his small form tucked under the blankets. I knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead and leaning down to place a gentle kiss there.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice catching. “Thank you for keeping me alive, for reminding me what matters, and for pushing me to fulfill my dreams.”

I rested my hand over his little chest for a moment. “Everything I do… it’s for you, son. And I’m sorry if I don’t always have enough time for you right now.”

He stirred slightly, murmuring something in his sleep, and I smiled, fighting back a lump in my throat.

“Sleep well, my little boy,” I whispered, standing and smoothing the blankets. “Mommy will always be here for you.”

I had just kissed Travis on the forehead and was about to leave his room when my phone buzzed. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen.

I picked up. “Hello, Ethan”

“Billie! You will not believe this!” Ethan’s voice was full of excitement, practically shaking with energy even through the phone.

I blinked, still lingering in the quiet of the house. “Ethan… slow down. What happened?”

“You won’t believe it. Mr. Smith just called me,” he said, his words tumbling out. “He said Evan Collins, the CEO of Collins Fine Jewelry, wants to meet with us. And get this, he’s ready to invest fifty billion dollars in the business!”

My hand froze around the phone. Evan? My chest tightened. Memories I had shoved deep away, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the cheque, flared up violently.

“Evan Collins?” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Yes,” Ethan said, still practically shouting with excitement. Then his tone shifted slightly, curious. “Do you know him?”