Chapter 85: The Public Eye

Lisa’s POV

It began with the stares.

Not the obvious ones—there were no fingers pointed or whispers heard as soon as Leo and I walked into a room together—but I heard the subtle change in the air. Conversations dipped, then restarted. Smiles a little too quickly and last a little too long. It was as if our being there was a silent proclamation, a scandal too delicate to be spoken on the air and too powerful to be ignored.

I saw it first at the office.

That morning, as I stepped through the glass doors, I could feel the buzz of alertness surrounding me, mild but poking. My heels made a rhythm on the tile floor, and each sound had no end. Across the reception, Nina’s eyes raised from her computer screen at the sight of me for a brief moment before falling back down. She gave a small, polite smile, but her eyes held questions she couldn’t articulate.

“Morning Lisa,” she said, her voice strangely too normal.

I said “Morning,” as I pulled my bag up higher on my shoulder and walked toward the elevator. The doors closed, and I heard the hiss of the doors opening on the other side. The doors slid open, and as I stepped inside, two coworkers followed —Mark from accounting and Elise from marketing. They gave me warm nods in greeting, but their focus was fixated just barely below the surface, a figure of speech of fingertips that brushed the edge of a thought like that.

“How’s your morning?” Elise asked, glancing up at the numbers above the door.

“I’m already busy,” I said nonchalantly, with the truth being that I had hardly started thinking about work.

The elevator felt like it was going up slower than normal. "When the doors opened, Mark motioned for me to go out first." His manners hadn’t changed, but everything else seemed off. I caught snatches of talk as I headed to my office.

“…have you noticed them lately?”

“…more smiles…”

“…I knew it wouldn’t stay cold forever…”

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. The whispers could have been ignored as they were so soft, but they were equally loud enough to be heard. They were talking about Leo. About us.

I went into my office, laid my things down and placed my hands on the cool surface of my desk. For a moment I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath.

Is it that obvious? I played back brief scenes in my mind—how Leo had stood just a little bit closer to me in the hallway, the way his voice softened when he spoke me privately, the light in his eyes that seemed to no longer contain only responsibility but something warmer, something more personal. Were we really that see-through?

There was a gentle knocking at my door, breaking through my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and there he was.

Leo. He came in and shut the door quietly behind him. His presence occupied the room, as if filling a once empty space. When I glanced up at him, the corners of his lips parted slightly in a small smile. Not fake. Not professional. Just… him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” I said, the word feeling softer on my palate when uttered to him.

“Do you realize,” he started playfully, putting his hands in his pockets, “that we are apparently the star attraction of the day?”

I stretched out a small, hesitant laugh. “So it’s not just me getting paranoid.”

“No,” he said and shook his head. “Looks like all the other bastards need us too,” he added.

“And how do you feel about that?” I queried.

He looked at my face for a moment, thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Honestly? I don’t care what they think. Not when it comes to you.”

The words settled over me warm and heavy. I looked away for a second with a pounding heart i would never have allowed myself to admit to a few weeks back.

“Just, there’s... a lot of attention,” I said softly. “People are watching. Judging. They are waiting for something to happen.”

“And that bothers you that much?”

“It would be a lie to say that it doesn’t,” I said, meeting his gaze again. “Our whole marriage has been in the spotlight since the day it started. I just don’t want something real to become something… public property.” Leo stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Then we don't give them more than they're entitled to. We protect what’s ours.”

What's ours.

That phrase echoed in my chest.

“I like the sound of that,” I admitted quietly.

For a moment, it seemed like it was just the two of us in the cool calm of my office, adrift in the air between what had been and now what was. There was another knock at the door, and reality rushed back in.

The day went by in a string of sideways glances and guarded smiles. At lunch time the strain was still holding us captive in the company dining room. As Leo and I sat down opposite each other, I was practically able to hear the communal hunger in the air. Forks retreated. Conversations dipped once again.

“So,” he said, reclining in his chair, “why don’t we give them something to get really worked up about, and sit a little closer?”

I raised an eyebrow. "You like to torment them, don't you?" the eyes of the universe."

“Just a little,” he answered with an innocent shrug.

“Act some shit.”

He smiled at that, a smile that reached his eyes and something fluttered inside me in response. When I received what seemed like a million messages on my phone as the afternoon wore on – from acquaintances who suddenly had a reason to reach out, from friends far away who had heard only vague rumors, even from a former colleague who threw in a barb Reader: Looks like things are finally changing for you.

Changing.

They were right to be wary.

After work, we went to a small mixer organized by one of the board members. It was that sort of gathering we would normally attend only for show, our hands never meeting, our chats mildly polite and distant. But that night was different. The fact that Leo stood next to me, not in front of me or behind me—just on my level—conveyed silently to everyone who saw us.

“Married life, how’s it treating you kids these days?” asked a man, leaning a little too far forward over his glass.

Leo was unhesitating.

“Better than ever,” he said, and I could sense the honesty beneath his tranquil voice.

He looked at me when he said it. But not them.

I felt my cheeks flush but I didn’t look away. Instead, I hooked my arm around his, something I’d never done in public. The response was quick and immediate: inaudible gasps, smirks of approval, raised eyebrows here and there.

But this time, I just didn’t feel self-conscious.

I felt… brave. That was my big feeling.

Later, as we made our way outside the venue, the cool air draping over us like a gentle scarf, Leo paused by the garden path. Lantern light bathed his face, each line one she knew in a different way.

“Are you okay?” he said softly.

“Yes,” I said after a pause. “I think I’m finally learning to be.” He cradled my face, his touch gentle and respectful. “I know there will be opinions.” Whispered judgments. Doubts.”

“I’m not scared of them anymore,” I said to him. “Not if I gotta stand next to you.”

His thumb grazed my cheek. “Then I’ll be right there.”

The world could watch. It could watch. It could invent its own tale about us.

But then, I was standing there in the half-light coming to a crystal-clear revelation amidst the soft background buzz of the nighttime and the dull pulse of the disorganized streetlamp heat.

For all that our marriage was more than a contract for the first time.

It was turning into a preference.

And I was going with him.