It was during the nights that I took her to my favorite izakayas, where we stayed up late talking over drinks and snacks. We wandered through the temple precincts of Sensoji, its illuminated lanterns casting a pale orange glow over our intertwined hands, and indulged in rousing renditions of old nineties songs in one of the city’s many karaoke bars (note: singing, along with cooking, was not one of Scarlett’s strong suits).
Exploring Tokyo with her was a revelation.
As much as I loved London, I loved being away from the prying eyes and whispers even more.
Here, amidst the electric hustle and bustle of the biggest city in the world, we could be a normal couple. No disguises, no nerves, no hiding from paps. Just us.
My last shoot with Aoki Watches wrapped early. It was Saturday, so no one wanted to stay on set too long. While Sloane hung behind to double-check the details, I took Scarlett on a special date I’d planned with the hotel concierge’s help.
I couldn’t join her on her daytime tourist excursions, but I could make sure our last night in Tokyo was as memorable as possible.
“I hope you don’t mind heights,” I said, opening the door to the hotel’s rooftop.
Scarlett stopped dead in her tracks. “Asher.” Laughter and shock laced her words. “Tell me you didn’t!”
She had to shout to be heard because waiting less than ten feet away, its rotors whirring, was a sleek white helicopter with the hotel’s gold logo stamped on the side.
“Private sunset helicopter tour of Tokyo,” I said with a grin. “Seems like a fitting way to celebrate our last night here.”
I paid an arm and a leg to book the helicopter at the last minute, but it was worth every single penny to see Scarlett’s enraptured expression as we soared over the city. I was so used to the luxuries in my life that I sometimes took them for granted, but experiencing them through her eyes did something to my soul.
I couldn’t describe what it was, but I wanted to give her every good thing in the world.
“That’s Odaiba.” I pointed out the popular entertainment hub located on a man-made island in Tokyo Bay. “We were there the other night. There’s Shibuya, the Tokyo Tower…”
I’d taken this flight before, so I took over our pilot’s tour guide duties until we landed on our hotel’s rooftop again. The staff had done an excellent job of turning it over during our twenty-minute ride.
Instead of a large, empty expanse of concrete, the rooftop now featured a gourmet candlelit dinner for two, complete with a linen tablecloth, fine china etched with a cherry blossom pattern, and portable heaters. The setup was tucked inside an alcove that protected it from being blown away by the helicopter landing.
Scarlett’s jagged inhale made me smile.
I walked her to the table as the helicopter took off again to give us privacy.
The rooftop was ours for the rest of the night.
“Be honest,” Scarlett said as we sat down. “Was the heli tour inspired by my joke about a similar ride over Hawaii?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But hypothetically, if it was, it’s a lot better than Hawaii, isn’t it?”
Amusement pulled at her lips. “You know that date didn’t exist. I was baiting you.”
“I know. That’s why I said hypothetically, mine’s better.”
Scarlett laughed and shook her head.
Our omakase dinner was prepared by Japan’s top chef. There was a fourteen-month waitlist for his flagship restaurant in Osaka, but Sebastian had pulled some strings and convinced him to fly here for the weekend.
One bite proved why he had a fourteen-month waitlist. Every course, from the trio of tuna sashimi to the A5 Japanese wagyu sirloin, was exquisite.
“I’m so full, you’re going to have to roll me back to our hotel room.” Scarlett groaned, but that didn’t stop her from eating the last bite of her green tea cheesecake. “This has spoiled me for life. I can’t go back to regular takeaway after this.”
“I’ll make some calls and see if the chef is willing to relocate to London,” I said with a laugh.
She perked up. “You think he will?”
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Don’t get my hopes up like that.” Scarlett sighed and took a sip of her sake. She glanced around, her expression turning wistful. Dusk had deepened into the full inkiness of night, and we were so high up that we couldn’t even hear the traffic below. “It’s so beautiful here. I wish we could stay longer.”
Regret twinged in my gut. We were flying back tomorrow so we could make it to London before Vincent, but I wished we could stay longer too.
“We can always come back,” I said. “It’s only a flight away.”
“I know.” She toyed with her silverware. “But it won’t be the same.”
I remained quiet.
I knew what she meant. I felt it too—the impending curtain call on our summer, heavy velvet drapes descending to divide our lives into “us” and “us and them.”
Once we told Vincent on Monday, our relationship didn’t belong to just us anymore. It belonged to everyone else too. Everyone would have opinions, and we couldn’t escape them if we tried.
“Before we leave, I do have something I want to talk to you about.” Scarlett ran a finger over the etchings on her fork and avoided my eyes.
“Okay.” I strove for a neutral expression, but I had a feeling I knew what she wanted to discuss.
We’d agreed to an exclusive non-relationship when we started dating. We basically were in a relationship, but she didn’t want to be hemmed in by the label, so I hadn’t pushed the issue.
However, if we were telling Vincent about us soon, it would make sense to redefine our status. Right?
