POV: Vivian
The restaurant has a garden in back, one of those carefully manicured outdoor spaces that Manhattan establishments create to prove they have elegance beyond their square footage. Hedges trimmed perfectly, paths lit by subtle lighting, moonlight filtering through the trees in ways that would be romantic if everything about this situation wasn't disaster.
Chase follows me into this carefully constructed nature, his footsteps deliberate behind me, the air between us humming with restraint that feels ready to snap.
"You shouldn't have followed me," I say without turning around.
"I know. But here I am anyway. Same pattern. Same toxic cycle." He moves closer. I can feel him even without looking, some magnetic pull that's existed since college, since before the curse made everything worse. "You can't just walk out every time things get uncomfortable."
