I stared at Gabriel across the open car door.

—Your what?

He looked completely calm.

—My fiancée.

I tightened my grip on the suitcase.

—Gabriel Gu, I have never agreed to marry you.

For the first time, something flickered across his face.

Not embarrassment.

Annoyance.

As if I had interrupted a plan that had already been neatly arranged inside his head.

—Get in the car first.

—No.

People moved around us with luggage carts.

Drivers shouted names.

A child cried somewhere behind me.

Gabriel lowered his voice.

—Emma.

—No.

I pointed at him.

—You don’t get to announce an engagement and then explain it afterward.

He looked at me for several seconds.

Then closed the car door.

—Fine.

He stepped aside.

—Ask.

I almost laughed.

—Wonderful. Question one: who is the woman Luna told me you’re engaged to?

Gabriel answered immediately.

—You.

I froze.

—She said you finally had a girlfriend.

—Also you.

My stomach dropped.

—Gabriel.

—What?

—We spoke once after I left.

—You sent me three messages.

—One said I couldn’t erase what happened by crossing an ocean.

—One asked whether I arrived safely.

—And one said, “When you stop running, we need to talk.”

I stared at him.

—At what point did any of that become a relationship?

Gabriel was silent.

Finally.

I folded my arms.

—Exactly.

He exhaled.

—Luna misunderstood.

—Did she?

His silence answered for him.

I narrowed my eyes.

—What did you tell her?

He looked away for half a second.

That was enough.

—Gabriel.

—I told her I was serious about someone.

—Someone?

—You.

—Did you tell her I knew?

Another silence.

I nearly turned around and went back into the airport.

He caught himself before reaching for me.

Good.

At least he understood that much.

—Emma, listen.

—I have been listening since I landed.

He rubbed his forehead.

For a man who managed negotiations involving entire companies, Gabriel suddenly looked remarkably bad at this one.

—I didn’t arrange an engagement party.

I stopped.

—What?

—It is Luna and Nathan’s engagement.

My mouth fell open.

Gabriel’s expression changed slightly.

Almost amused.

—You thought the invitation was for mine?

—I thought—

I pulled the invitation from my bag.

I had barely looked at it after Luna called me screaming about her brother’s “iron tree blooming.”

Gabriel took it.

Turned it over.

There, in gold lettering:

LUNA GU & NATHAN JIANG

I wanted the pavement to open.

Gabriel said:

—You fled four thousand miles because you thought I had forgotten you.

—Then returned because you thought I was marrying someone else.

—Do not sound pleased.

—I am trying not to.

I snatched the invitation back.

—Then why did you call me your fiancée?

His expression became serious again.

—Because I wanted you to understand that I didn’t consider that night meaningless.

—That’s not what fiancée means.

—I know.

—Apparently you don’t.

I put the suitcase upright.

—Gabriel, you cannot decide my answer before asking the question.

He stared at me.

Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.

—You’re right.

That stopped me.

Gabriel Gu rarely admitted anyone else was right.

He continued:

—I handled this badly.

—Very badly.

—I was angry when you disappeared.

—I noticed.

—I had spent years deliberately keeping my distance because you were Luna’s closest friend.

He paused.

—Then you vanished before I could say anything.

I looked at him.

—And your solution was to tell your sister you were serious about me?

—Yes.

—Without telling me?

—Yes.

—Terrible plan.

—Agreed.

I didn’t get into his car.

I took a taxi.

Gabriel didn’t stop me.

That mattered.

When I arrived at the Gu family house that evening, Luna nearly tackled me at the entrance.

—Emma!

Then she whispered:

—Why does my brother look like someone canceled his entire life?

I stared at her.

—You told me he had a girlfriend.

—He does!

I pointed at myself.

—Apparently, according to him.

Luna’s eyes widened.

Then she covered her mouth.

—Oh.

—“Oh” what?

—I may have assumed more than he actually said.

I closed my eyes.

—Luna.

She grabbed my hand.

—He told me there was someone he had liked for years and that he’d finally decided to stop being an idiot.

—Did he say her name?

—No.

—Then how did you decide it was official?

She looked embarrassed.

—Because two days later he asked me what kind of ring you liked.

I stared at her.

—He what?

A voice sounded behind us.

—I was gathering information.

Gabriel.

I turned.

—You were shopping for a ring before asking whether I wanted to date you?

He looked at Luna.

—Leave.

She immediately vanished.

Coward.

I faced him.

—You have a serious problem with sequence.

—I have realized that.

—Have you?

—Yes.

He held out a small box.

I took one step backward.

Gabriel stopped.

Then, instead of opening it, he placed it on the nearby table.

—It’s not an engagement ring.

I looked suspiciously at him.

—Then what?

—Open it if you want.

Inside was a simple silver key.

I frowned.

—A key?

—To my villa.

I looked up sharply.

He added:

—Not because you’re moving in.

—Not because I’m assuming anything.

—Because after you left, I realized the only way you ever entered my house was because Luna sent you there.

Something in my chest tightened.

Gabriel continued:

—I don’t want you to need an excuse to come see me.

I closed the box.

—Better.

His mouth almost curved.

—Is that praise?

—Don’t get excited.

For the first time, we actually talked.

Not about that night.

About everything before it.

The years of awkwardness.

The dinners where Gabriel would leave the room whenever Luna and I became too loud.

The university graduation where he had quietly arranged a car for me after mine broke down, then pretended Nathan had done it.

The job interview where flowers appeared without a card.

I had assumed Luna sent them.

She hadn’t.

Gabriel had.

—Why didn’t you say anything?

I asked.

—Because you were twenty-two and still building your own life.

He replied.

—I didn’t want Luna’s older brother becoming something you felt obligated to handle.

That answer was so different from the man who had called me “my fiancée” at the airport that I almost laughed.

—And now?

—Now I made the opposite mistake.

—Yes.

—I’m learning.

I stayed for Luna’s engagement party.

Gabriel did not introduce me as anything.

Not his girlfriend.

Not his fiancée.

Just Emma.

Oddly, that made me trust him more.

When relatives asked whether we were together, he answered:

—Ask Emma.

The first three times, I said:

—No comment.

The fourth, I looked at him and said:

—We’re talking.

Gabriel smiled.

That was all.

I returned abroad after the party.

Not because I was running.

Because I had work.

That difference mattered.

For the next six months, Gabriel and I spoke almost every day.

Sometimes twenty minutes.

Sometimes two hours.

We argued.

Often.

He hated uncertainty.

I hated being managed.

But slowly he learned to ask instead of decide.

And I learned that caring about someone did not require giving up the life I had built elsewhere.

Eight months after the airport, I returned again.

Gabriel met me at arrivals.

Same black car.

Same dark coat.

But this time he said:

—Welcome back, Emma.

Nothing else.

I put my suitcase in the trunk.

—That’s it?

He looked at me.

—What were you expecting?

—I don’t know. Maybe another surprise promotion from stranger to fiancée.

His ears actually turned red.

I laughed.

He shook his head.

—Never again.

A year later, at Luna and Nathan’s wedding, Gabriel asked me to walk with him into the garden after dinner.

He stopped beneath a row of small lights.

Then he looked at me.

—May I ask you something?

I smiled.

—Look at you. Asking first.

—Emma.

—Go ahead.

He took out a ring.

But he did not put it on my hand.

He simply held it.

—Would you like to marry me?

I looked at him for a long time.

Then I laughed.

—That’s much better.

His expression tightened.

—Is that a yes?

I held out my hand.

—Now it is.

Years later, Luna still tells people that her brother’s “iron tree finally bloomed.”

She leaves out the part where the iron tree nearly announced an engagement before asking the woman involved.

I don’t.

Because that became the first important lesson of our relationship.

Gabriel had always been a man accustomed to decisions becoming reality because he made them.

But I was never going to become another item on his schedule.

The night that started everything was messy.

The months after were worse.

And the airport almost ended us before we had even begun.

But the relationship survived because Gabriel eventually learned the difference between wanting someone in his future and deciding their future for them.

The first time he called me his fiancée, I hadn’t agreed to anything.

The last time, he asked first.