The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第15章 Tension Between Toast

      Returning to our table, Harum gave me a soft, approving smile. "You were incredible up there," he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly over my hand as we approached our seats. The warmth of his presence was grounding after the adrenaline of the stage, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax.

The dinner service began, with glasses clinking and a low mumming of conversations filling the ballroom. To my surprise, my parents and Kenji's parents had struck up a conversation down the table, the two families naturally drawn into introductions.

"So, Kenji," my father said, leaning slightly forward with curiosity. "Tell us about yourself. Eden has mentioned you in passing, but we'd love to hear more from you directly."

Kenji inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, sir. Hokkaido born, grew up in Beverly Hill, I went to University in Connecticut, Yale. Current owner of Ito Gas, and I'm currently contracting with Aoki Global in our international projects division. Much of my work revolves bridging partnerships in finance, real estate development, gas, and agriculture."

My mother smiled, impressed. "That sounds incredibly demanding. And yet, you make it look effortless."

Kenji gave a small, composed smile. "Discipline is something my family values. But I can admit—it's rewarding." He said taking a sip of his drink, looking Eden in the eyes. "Very rewarding." He repeated. Mia cleared her throat, sensing the tension between Kenji and  Eden.

Harum, sitting close beside me, sipped his drink casually, though his eyes flicked toward the exchange with a glint of interest.

"And you, Harum?" my dad asked next, curiosity shifting. "What line of work are you in?"

Harum straightened with an easy smile. "I'm actually a Country Manager here in Hokkaido. My role is overseeing company regional operations—everything from managing local partnerships to ensuring compliance with both Japanese regulations and our U.S. corporate standards. It keeps me on my toes.

I spend a lot of time connecting with government officials, negotiating contracts, and supporting our teams on the ground. Though I do quite a bit of work in U.S. territories as well, Hokkaido has become my home base. I'd say I'm here about seventy percent of the year."

My mother tilted her head thoughtfully. "That sounds exciting!" 

Before the conversation could drift, my father leaned back in his chair with a proud gleam in his eye. "You know, Eden's older brother, Jack, is a Commodore in the Navy. Stationed in South Korea right now."

Kenji's brows lifted slightly, clearly impressed. "A Commodore? That's a remarkable accomplishment. Your family must be very proud."

"Extremely," my mother said, smiling warmly. "Jack's protective, but he has a good heart."

Kenji remained calm, answering my father's occasional questions with quiet authority, while Harum leaned into conversation with charm and openness. Both men handled themselves flawlessly, but to me, the tension was undeniable.

Later, as dessert plates were being cleared, I excused myself for a moment and scanned the room. My gaze stopped cold when I spotted Kenji near the bar, speaking with Aya. She was standing closer than I liked, her hand brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said.

A small sting of jealousy caught me off guard, tightening in my chest. I had no claim on him, not really. And yet the sight unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

Harum leaned in beside me, asking if I wanted another glass of champagne, and I forced a smile, grateful for his steady presence. As I nodded, I glanced once more toward Kenji and Aya, their conversation still flowing easily.

I inhaled slowly, centering myself. If I had ever questioned my decision to hold back on dating him, that moment erased the doubt. Whatever pull I felt toward Kenji, I couldn't afford to dive into something messy, especially under the weight of professional eyes and complicated emotions.

I turned back toward Harum, letting the noise of the gala wash over me. Tonight wasn't the night for regrets—it was a night to celebrate, to honor what I'd achieved, and to keep my head exactly where it needed to be.