37

37


Lily bit her tongue, his eyes freezing her in place.

“It’s, um… it’s totally fine.” She swallowed hard after the sentence, as if the words had scraped their way out.

He glanced at the colorful disaster on the floor. “And it looked quite delicious, too. I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching.” His voice wrapped the apology in that crisp, lilting accent, somehow making even regret sound sophisticated.

If there was a way the British accent could get more attractive, this man had  mastered it.

Lily giggled awkwardly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, who even brings macarons to a place like this?” She instantly bit her words, wincing. What a stupid thing to say, Lily Hills. Brilliant first impression.

But instead of frowning, he chuckled, a rich, warm sound. “Actually, I rather fancy these kinds of things. Breaking them in the kitchen is another matter entirely. I’ve always wanted to learn.”

Lily blinked. She didn’t know why he was admitting that to her, a complete stranger, but she found herself leaning into every syllable. Maybe it was the accent. Maybe it was the fact that ever since her journalism days, she’d secretly been obsessed with British people, their mannerisms, their poise, their culture.

And him? He had it all. The polished confidence, the expensive edge in the way he stood. The kind of man who probably grew up in a house with paintings older than country itself.

And those eyes made her stomach flip.

“This is actually my first time here,” she blurted before she could stop herself. “So I’m… not exactly sure what’s considered normal around here.”

“Then we’re both tourists in a way,” he said smoothly, tilting his head. “Though, judging by the sweets, I’d say your family came well prepared.”

“Oh.” Lily laughed, hugging her arms as she tried not to trip over her own words. “Well, it’s not even mine. My sister’s graduating. My mom thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring macarons. And, um—now they’re ruined.” She giggled again, awkwardly.

“Family traditions,” he said with a faint smile, his tone almost formal. “They always find a way to survive, even if the macarons don’t.”

The way he said it made her laugh harder than she meant to.

His lips curved slightly as he glanced back at her. “My name is Christian. Christian Whitmore,” the syllables rolled from his tongue. The sound of it lingered in Lily’s ears longer than it should have.

“And you must be… Lily Hills.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t told him her name. “Wait—how do you—?”

“I’ve read your work,” he admitted with a polite tilt of his head. “Journalism, yes? You’ve got a sharp voice. Recognized you the moment you spoke.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. No one had said something like that in such a confident way. Heck, someone knew her by her voice.

“That’s… nice. Really nice.”

Christian’s eyes flicked toward the exit. “I’d like to stay longer, but I have to go.”

She opened her mouth to reply when movement in her periphery caught her attention. “Oh—that’s my mom—” Lily turned, lifting a hand automatically to wave.

But when she spun back to find him again, Christian was gone.

Only the faint trace of his cologne remained.

•~

The graduation ceremony ended soon enough and not once did I catch a glimpse of Christian again.

When Gio got her certificate of learning she came down to us. Her beautiful blue gown turned every eye as she passed.

“What a surprise Lily. I actually thought you’d never come to visit again. Dmitri must be treated so well.” She teased.

She matched her smile then hugged her.

When we pulled away she looked at me as though she was looking for something then back at my mom.

“Where are the sweets?”

“Oh. About that, there was a little accident—“ Lily was thinking of the next excuse that wouldn’t make her sound clumsy when a boy approached them.

Gio turned. “Lily, Auntie, meet Sebastian.” She introduced the blonde man and smiled. He looked a little familiar though Lily couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Sebastian, my cousin and my aunt.” He stretched his hand for a handshake which I took.

The moment he spoke I stiffened . “It’s so nice to meet you.” The words were natural but spiced with his British accent.

Was it raining Europeans?

Lily ignored it as Gio continued.

“I just met him a few weeks ago.”

Sebastian’s smile was softer than Christian’s had been, boyish in its charm but still disarming. His handshake lingered half a second too long, polite yet confident, as if he already knew the impression he was leaving.

“Nice to meet you,” Lily managed, her voice a little higher than normal. The echo of Christian’s name still pulsed in her chest, but Sebastian’s accent was another gentle tug on her attention.

“Gio tells me you’re a writer,” Sebastian said, eyes bright with interest. “I read one of your articles she sent me. About the protests downtown? Sharp perspective.”

Heat crept into Lily’s cheeks for the second time that day. First Christian, now Sebastian? Compliments seemed to be falling out of the sky.

“Thank you. That piece was… a bit of a gamble,” she admitted.

Gio rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her elbow. “Careful. If you keep talking like that, her husband is not going to take it very lightly.” She chuckled.

Lily laughed, though her mind wasn’t entirely in the moment. Two strangers with British accents in one day? One who knew her writing by heart and vanished like smoke, and another suddenly standing in front of her, connected to her family through Gio. Coincidence, maybe. But something in her gut whispered it wasn’t.

“Anyway, I should probably head back. . Gio—congratulations again..”

“Thanks,” Gio said, grinning.

Sebastian gave a polite nod to Lily and her mother before stepping back into the crowd, his blond hair catching the light as he disappeared.

Lily exhaled slowly. Twice in one
day. First Christian Whitmore. Now Sebastian.

And neither encounter felt accidental.