Steam curled off the mirror as Elena wiped a clear circle with her palm.
Her reflection looked softer, calmer, almost steady. The shower had stripped away the salt of tears and the weight of the night before. For the first time in days she felt clean—new skin over the same confusion.
Her phone blinked on the counter.
Nick.
> Mom and Dad left early for a business trip with the Browns. They sent me to Bristol to cover for them until they're back.
I won't be home for a few days. We'll be back before your birthday. Don't stress, I'll check in later.
She stared at the words until they blurred.
Before her birthday—that was still a week away.
A whole week of silence in the house.
Another message.
> You okay now? You can talk if you need.
Nick knows it's more than a project problem.
What would she tell him?
Her thumbs hovered, then typed the safest lie she knew.
> I'm fine. Promise.
The lie settled like dust. She scrolled again.
> Claire's gone with her parents. Nathan's staying back—city work, I think.
Nathan.
Her stomach tightened.
He's staying.
The house felt larger suddenly, the ticking clock louder, every creak of wood sharper.
It's fine, she calmed herself down.
You can handle him.
She dressed quickly—loose shirt, soft jeans—pulled her hair into a half-tie, and stepped into the hallway.
Afternoon sunlight spilled through the landing window, too golden, too calm.
Downstairs the rooms were still. The scent of lavender polish lingered in the air.
Through the glass doors she saw the garden—bright green after morning rain, a few petals scattered on the path.
The door stood half-open, swaying slightly with the breeze.
Someone is out there.
Nathan!
She hesitated, then pushed it wider. The warm air brushed her face; the hum of bees and a distant lawn mower filled the silence. And then—
> "Someone's early."
Nathan's voice. Smooth, composed.
He stood near the rose bushes, sleeves rolled to his elbows, phone dangling loosely from his hand.
The sun caught in his hair, turning the brown to copper.
When he looked up, his expression was unreadable – that same polite calm that could mean anything.
Elena forced a small smile. "Didn't know there was a schedule."
"Only for me." He smiled lightly. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."
"I live here," she tried to reply smartly, but her voice came out thinner than she liked.
"That you do."
"But you know what I'm talking about!" He said in a let's-get-back-to-business tone.
Let's get this over with.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned against the low fence.
The distance between them felt both small and impossible.
"About last night," she started, hoping to sound composed.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Ah, so we're not pretending it didn't happen."
Playing smart, are we?
"I'm not pretending anything," she said quickly, warmth spreading across her cheeks. "It just… happened. I think it's.. best we don't..make it a big deal."
Nathan's gaze didn't waver. "Not a big deal? That's one way to look at it."
Ughh.. he won't make it any easier for me.
"I'm saying it was the heat of the moment," she replied.
He smiled faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe it was what felt right." He stepped closer, sunlight brushing his shoulders. "What I saw in your eyes was that you wanted it with the same intensity as I did."
Her throat tightened. "You're assuming a lot."
"Am I now?" He stopped just close enough that the edge of his shadow crossed hers. "But I remember exactly how it felt. Your lips—soft, unsure. You trembled. I liked that you did. You just… were so delectable"
Elena took a step back, heart thudding.
"Nathan—"
He lifted a hand slightly, putting a finger on her lips, stopping the air between them. "Relax. I'm not asking for another mistake.
I just wanted to understand what it meant for you.
Did it scare you, or did it feel natural too?"
Natural yes, scared yes too!
Maybe he could hear my thoughts…
His eyes burning flames inside her body, she didn't know existed. It confused her.
She hesitated, fingers curling at her sides. "I don't know."
"Then tell me the truth," he said quietly, his voice losing its teasing edge – not letting the topic slip. "You don't have to protect anyone's feelings here."
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
He reached out and tilted her chin with two fingers, light enough to guide her eyes back to his.
"Be honest with me, Elena. You felt it too, didn't you? That pull."
Her breath caught.
The nearness was dizzying—the scent of soap and earth, the rhythm of his words.
He waited, gaze steady, patient.
She managed a whisper. "Maybe?" She wasn't sure what it was – but she felt something…
Nathan's smile was slow, measured. "That's all I wanted to hear."
He let his hand drop, stepping back with a practiced ease. "I couldn't sleep, you know. I kept thinking you left because of me. That maybe I'd pushed too far."
"You did," she admitted softly.
"Maybe," he admitted, tone lighter again. "But I don't regret it. I like you, Elena. You make everything… unpredictable."
You like me?
YOU 'like' me?
He smiled, faintly. "And I think part of you likes me too. So help me understand—why run?" He completed for her when she didn't reply.
She gulped audibly.
"I needed time to think," she said.
"And did it help?" he asked with curiosity clear on his face.
"I'm not sure."
I am not sure!
He smiled again, that effortless, disarming curve of his mouth. "Then let's figure it out together. Over dinner. Seven sharp."
Wait, what?
She blinked. "Dinner?" Not quite sure she heard him right.
He nodded once. "I'll come back to pick you up. I have some business to attend to meanwhile."
Elena…No pressure—just clarity."
The breeze stirred the roses, scattering a few petals onto the path between them.
---
Elena walked back inside feeling the opposite of what she'd planned.
She'd meant to stay calm, distant, sensible. Instead her head was full of fragments of his voice.
He likes me.
No pressure – just clarity!
She sat on the edge of the bed, replaying every word until the sound of her phone made her jump.
"Dree," she said at once.
His familiar voice steadied her. "Update, Leena. How did it go?"
She twisted the bedsheet between her fingers. "I'm… not sure. He said he likes me. He wants to talk more over dinner."
"Dinner?" Adrian sounded cautious. "Okay. I'll call tonight. Promise you'll pick up."
"I will."
When the call ended, she stared at the silent screen for a long time.
He likes me! Her brain registers.
The words glowed in her mind, half-sweet, half-terrifying.
She liked him too—or at least the version of him that smiled softly and spoke in calm certainties. Maybe it was worth finding out what that could mean.
The hours slipped away faster than she expected.
By early evening, she stood in front of her wardrobe, unsure.
She finally chose a dark-green crop top and a flared checked short-skirt that brushed just above her knees.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
The outfit felt a little bolder than she was used to, showing more skin than she'd ever like. Her parents wouldn't approve of it – but they wouldn't approve of anything happening in her life lately, either.
Her first instinct was to change into something safer, but then she caught her reflection and paused.
No parents. No lectures. No judgment.
For once, she wanted to decide for herself.
She was going out with a boy, and in a week she'd be eighteen.
Maybe it was time to stop being afraid of her own choices.
She smoothed the fabric, took a breath, and whispered to her reflection, "Just one night. Live a little." She braised herself.
—
The doorbell rang ten minutes early.
Elena's pulse jumped. She gave her reflection one last glance, smoothed the hem of her skirt, and hurried downstairs.
Nathan stood on the step, the late sunlight behind him turning the edges of his hair gold.
He'd traded the crisp shirts she usually saw him in for something simpler—a soft grey T-shirt that fitted neatly across his shoulders and dark jeans that made him look more relaxed, more real, yet no less put together.
"Right on time," she said, catching the hint of her own nerves in her voice.
He smiled, that small, knowing curve that always seemed to find its way to his eyes. "I'm never late. You ready?"
She nodded. "Almost." Slipping into her small green kitten heels.
He gazed at her for a moment longer than polite –from her head to toe, the smile deepening just enough to make her wonder what he was thinking. "You look… different," he said finally.
He'd never seen her in daring clothes, like this one.
"Different good or different bad?"
" Certainlygood," he said, simple and certain. "You look gorgeous." His eyes lingered from her face, down to her neck and rested on her breasts for a moment before she broke the silence.
She felt warmth climb her neck but forced a light tone. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," he replied quickly. "It's a surprise. Come on."
He stepped aside, waiting for her to lock the door before leading the way to the car.
Such a gentle man.
The evening air was soft, scented with the garden's fading roses, and the sky had begun to fade from gold to a pale violet. For a moment, everything felt still—too still, maybe—but she pushed the thought away and followed him.
---
The ride was quiet.
Nathan drove with one hand lightly on the wheel, the other resting against the window, his profile calm and unreadable in the shifting city lights.
Elena watched the streets blur by, the hum of the engine and faint rhythm of the turn signal the only sounds between them.
She didn't dare to look at his side.
They pulled up outside a hotel she knew well—the tall glass façade gleaming under a wash of gold lights.
She blinked. "This place?"
He glanced at her, amused. "Something wrong with it?"
"No," she said quickly. "I've been here before. My parents used to bring us for company dinners."
"Then it's familiar territory." He chucked.
He gave the keys to the valet and led her through the revolving doors.
The lobby smelled of polished marble and fresh lilies. Waiters in crisp uniforms moved like clockwork, their voices soft, practiced.
Nathan exchanged a few quiet words with the maître d'. The man nodded immediately, gesturing toward the elevators. "Mr. Brown, your table is ready."
Elena followed as they stepped into a private booth tucked away on the mezzanine—a corner of glass and muted light overlooking the city.
The table was already set, a candle flickering between white plates and silver cutlery.
She sat down carefully, taking in the view. The city looked distant from here, like another world.
Nathan eased into the seat opposite her, his tone easy. "I thought we'd have more space to talk here. Less noise, less interruption."
She managed a small smile. "It's… quiet."
"That's the idea."
A waiter appeared, poured water, and disappeared as quickly as he'd come. The hush that followed felt both comfortable and too precise, like a pause waiting to be filled.
The waiter returned with menus; Elena skimmed the page without really seeing it.
Nathan ordered for both of them—roasted sea bass with lemon butter and a side of grilled vegetables—his voice smooth, certain, like someone who'd done this a thousand times.
She nodded when the waiter looked her way, grateful not to have to choose.
When they were alone again, Nathan leaned back slightly, studying her across the table.
Her fingers traced the rim of her glass.
"Elena," he began, his tone softer now, "I've been in relationships before. They were short. I never quite found someone who fit."
He paused, eyes steady on hers. "Most of them were the same—loud, restless, always chasing something to show off. And then there's you. Quiet. Grounded. You walk into a room and it feels… still."
He smiled faintly. "It intrigued me. I want to explore more."
She looked up, trying to read the truth in his expression.
There was something almost vulnerable about the way he said it—something that didn't sound rehearsed. She wanted to believe him.
Her gaze drifted to his eyes. Eyes don't lie, she told herself.
Nathan reached across the table, palm open, inviting.
For a heartbeat she hesitated, then placed her hand in his.
His touch was warm, his grip light but certain.
"You can talk to me," he said quietly. "Ask whatever's on your mind. I'm here to answer."
The candle between them flickered, painting the edges of his face in amber light.
Elena nodded, her thoughts a tangle of questions she wasn't sure how to voice.
For a while they sat in silence. The murmur of other diners was faint, the clink of cutlery somewhere far away. Nathan hadn't moved his hand, and she hadn't taken hers back.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low but steady.
"I don't know if I'm ready for any of this," she said.
"I've never been in a relationship before." She admitted honestly.
Nathan's thumb brushed the edge of her knuckles, not pressing, just waiting.
"There was someone I liked once," she went on.
"My parents didn't approve. They said it wasn't the right time—that I should focus on school, on making something of myself first." She looked down, unable to make any eye-contact with him.
She gave a small, self-conscious laugh. "So I did. I buried it. Now I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel."
He didn't interrupt. His eyes stayed on her, listening in a way that made the rest of the room fade.
"I need time," she said finally. "To think. To understand what this is before I say yes to anything." There was a plea in her voice.
For a moment he said nothing.
The candle flickered between them, the flame stretching toward him, then her.
When he finally spoke, his tone was calm, almost a whisper. "Time," he echoed. "I can give you that."
Her heart raced listening to his words.
He smirked. "But I don't plan on disappearing while you think."
Elena managed a nervous smile of her own. "I didn't expect you to."
"Good," he said, his gaze still locked with hers. "Then we understand each other."
The waiter appeared again, setting down their food. The plates steamed, the scent of lemon and butter filling the air, but neither of them moved to eat.
Nathan lifted his glass instead. "To clarity," he said.
She lifted hers automatically. "To… clarity."
Their glasses touched with a quiet chime that seemed to echo longer than it should have.
Outside, the city lights blurred against the glass. Elena's reflection looked older somehow—unsure, curious, caught between two versions of herself.
Nathan's voice broke through her thoughts, gentle but certain.
"Think all you want, Elena. Just remember—some decisions don't wait forever."
The words lingered as she looked back at him, unsure whether it was a promise or a warning.
Think. But be careful, Elena!