The Red String Between Us: Part III Eternal Thread

第25章 Crossroads

Kenji 

      Kenji rubbed his temple as he ended another call with his legal team in LA. The news wasn't unexpected, but it still pressed on his shoulders heavier than the humidity hanging in the Delhi air. Three acquisitions—each one massive, each one requiring his direct hand. It wasn't the kind of responsibility he could delegate, not this time. India was just the first stop. Soon, the United States would demand him for nearly half a year.

He sat back against the hotel chair, staring at the skyline through the glass wall, phone in hand. The only thing harder than the business itself was what he had to say to Eden.

He dialed.

"Hey you" Eden's voice came through soft, familiar, grounding him.

"I just wanted to hear you," he admitted, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "And...I need to talk to you about something important."

There was a pause on her end, the kind where she already knew this wasn't small talk. "Sure, i'm all ears."

He exhaled. "First—the business. After I finish here in India, I'll need to return to the U.S. For an extended period. Five months, maybe longer. The acquisitions in Texas and California need me to oversee the launch and integration. It's not negotiable."

Silence. Then, a quiet, "Five months?"

He closed his eyes. "I know. It's not what either of us wants right now. But I don't want you to feel blindsided."

She was quiet again, and he knew her mind was already working—calculating, adjusting, protecting herself.

But then she asked something that made his chest tighten. "Kenji...earlier at the office, between Aya and Mallory—there was something in the room. Tension. Like they shared a history. What is it?"

His throat tightened. For a moment he thought about softening the truth, reshaping it into something easier. But he had promised her honesty. And Eden deserved nothing less.

He swallowed. "After I ended things with Mallory...I started seeing Aya. Too soon afterward. If I'm being honest, there was overlap. I wasn't fair to either of them. And when I called things off with Aya too, I knew I had left damage behind."

On the other end, Eden said nothing. Just breath. Silence that cut sharper than words.

"Eden," he said softly, leaning forward as if she could feel him reaching through the distance, "I've made mistakes. I've hurt people I cared about, and that's something I will always regret. But with you—it's different. There's no one else. There never will be."

Still nothing. The silence pressed on him until his chest felt hollow.

Finally, she said, low and careful, "I see."

And then the line went quiet, leaving him staring at the phone, the weight of his past and the uncertainty of their future hanging heavy in the air.

     Kenji tightened his grip on the phone, bracing for her next words. "Five months is a long time," Eden finally said, her voice steady but threaded with something fragile. "How are we supposed to build a life together if you're gone? If you're in another country?"

He leaned back, pressing the heel of his hand against his brow. "I've been asking myself the same thing since I got the call. I don't want us to be a couple defined by distance. I don't want to miss mornings with you, or milestones. I want more than phone calls and plane tickets."

"Then what do we do?" she asked quietly. "We just got engaged, and now we're already talking about months apart. How do we even start planning a future, a wedding, a family, with that kind of gap?"

Her words cut through him, sharp and unflinching. He closed his eyes, imagining her—hair damp from a bath, ring glinting somewhere nearby, her brows drawn as she thought ten steps ahead. She always did.

"I want children with you," he said finally, his voice lower, more certain. "I want mornings where we're tripping over toys in the kitchen, nights where the house is too loud because of laughter. I want all of it—with you. But first, I need to figure my business out. To make time for that."

There was a soft sound from her, almost a sigh, almost a laugh. "Kenji...you make it sound so simple."

"It's not simple," he admitted. "But it's worth fighting for. We are worth fighting for. I'll do everything I can to find someone to take point on these acquisitions in my place. If I can get coverage—I can cut down the time. Be there with you instead of oceans away."

Eden was silent again, but this time the quiet didn't feel like distance. It felt like thought, like she was letting his words settle.

"I don't want you to resent me if you stay behind when your business needs you," she said finally. "And I don't want to resent you for leaving, either. That's not the marriage I want. If we're going to build a life, we need to be honest when it hurts. Even when it's messy."

Kenji's throat tightened. "Then promise me one thing. Promise me you won't give up. Not because of geography. Not because of my past. Not because of the weight I bring with me." It is my greatest fear.

Her inhale was sharp, unsteady. Then: "I won't give up on us as long as you meet me in the middle."

His chest eased for the first time that night. "Always," he said softly. "Always, Eden."

And though the miles stretched between them, for that moment, it felt like she was right there—close enough to touch.