Lara didn't realize how long it had been since she'd laughed like this.
Not politely.Not defensively.But the kind that slipped out without permission—soft at first, then fuller, warmer, surprising even herself.
Jaden leaned back in his chair, watching her with something unreadable in his expression. Not hunger. Not expectation.
Recognition.
"That laugh," he said, casual but observant. "You don't use it often."
Lara's smile faltered just slightly. "You sound very sure."
"I am," he replied. "People who laugh freely don't flinch afterward."
She blinked. Had she?
She reached for her glass instead, letting the cool condensation ground her fingers. The ocean murmured nearby, waves rolling in with the patience of something that had all the time in the world.
"So," she said, shifting the subject, "you pretend to work here often? Or was I a special case?"
Jaden smirked. "Only for emergencies. Head injuries count."
"I wasn't injured."
"You don't know that," he said seriously. "Emotional trauma is sneaky."
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again.
The server returned with menus, offering them both an apologetic look—as if still unsure how she'd ended up at that table.
Jaden ordered easily, confidently, like someone who belonged anywhere he sat. Lara noticed how staff nodded at him as they passed. How his presence was acknowledged without being loud.
"People know you," she said once the server left.
"Occupational hazard."
"What do you do?" she asked.
He hesitated—not long, just enough to register.
"I'm in hospitality," he said. "Food. Business. People."
That was… vague.
She didn't press.
They talked while the sky darkened fully, stars faint but present above the city glow. Jaden asked about her move—what she missed, what she didn't. He didn't pry, but he listened carefully, like her answers mattered beyond politeness.
"You don't look like someone who runs toward things," he said at one point.
"No?" she asked quietly.
"No. You look like someone who ran away—and survived it."
Her chest tightened.
"That obvious?"
"To the right people," he replied.
She studied him across the table. There was depth there—quiet, disciplined, restrained. The kind of man who didn't reveal himself all at once because he didn't need to.
A wall.
Strong. Intentional.
Dinner passed too quickly.
When the bill arrived, Lara reached for her purse.
"No," Jaden said gently.
"I can—"
"I invited myself into your night," he said. "Let me handle it."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you."
Outside, the night air was cooler, carrying the scent of salt and jasmine. They stood near the entrance, the hum of the restaurant behind them.
"Well," she said, unsure how to end something that felt unfinished, "thank you. For… everything."
Jaden smiled. "Anytime."
They lingered.
Too long to be coincidence.Too short to be intention.
"I live just up there," Lara said, gesturing vaguely toward her building.
He followed her gaze, then nodded. "Walk you?"
She considered it.
"Yes," she said.
They moved side by side along the beach path, steps falling into easy rhythm. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was weighted. Thoughtful.
"I should tell you something," Jaden said after a moment.
She looked at him. "Okay."
"I'm not great at… casual," he admitted. "I don't do things halfway."
Her heart skipped. "Is that a warning?"
"A clarification."
She smiled softly. "I appreciate honesty."
He stopped walking.
She did too.
The ocean stretched behind him, endless and dark and honest.
"You don't owe me anything," he said. "Not explanations. Not access. If you ever want distance, you say it—and I'll respect it."
Something in her shifted.
"That's rare," she said.
"So are people worth waiting for."
The words landed gently—but deeply.
She swallowed.
"Goodnight, Jaden."
"Goodnight, Lara."
He didn't touch her.
Didn't lean in.
Didn't ask.
And somehow, that restraint followed her all the way upstairs.
She slept lightly that night.
Not restlessly—just aware.
The next morning, Lara woke early and ran again along the beach. Her thoughts drifted back to him uninvited. The way he listened. The way he didn't push.
Dangerous, she thought.
Safe can be dangerous when you're not used to it.
Her phone buzzed when she returned home.
A message.
Jaden:I hope today is kind to you.
She stared at it longer than necessary.
Then typed back.
Lara:Thank you. I hope yours is too.
She didn't realize it then—but something subtle had shifted.
Not a leap.
A crack.
Work consumed her week.
Meetings. Numbers. Systems. Learning names and rhythms and expectations. She excelled quietly—efficient, observant, precise. Her boss noticed. Her colleagues warmed quickly.
At lunch one day, a coworker leaned over.
"So," she said with a grin, "are you seeing someone?"
Lara blinked. "No."
"But?"
"There's no 'but.'"
The woman smiled knowingly. "You've been smiling at your phone."
Lara looked down, surprised.
She hadn't even noticed.
That evening, her phone rang.
Vanessa.
"Okay," Vanessa said immediately, "spill."
"Spill what?"
"Don't play innocent. You're glowing."
Lara laughed softly. "I met someone."
"I KNEW IT."
"It's not like that," Lara said quickly. "It's just… easy."
"That's how it starts," Vanessa said gently. "Easy doesn't mean dangerous."
Sometimes it does, Lara thought—but didn't say.
Saturday arrived with sunlight and possibility.
Lara spent the morning cleaning, organizing, grounding herself in the quiet. By afternoon, her phone buzzed again.
Jaden:There's a market near the harbor today. No pressure—just thought I'd mention it.
She stared at the message.
No pressure.
That mattered.
She replied a few minutes later.
Lara:I'd like that.
The market was alive—music, color, food, voices layered in warmth. Jaden met her near a stall selling handmade jewelry.
"You look comfortable," he said.
"I feel it," she replied.
They wandered slowly. Shared food. Laughed. Stopped to listen to a street musician.
At one point, a woman bumped into Lara roughly.
"Watch it," the woman snapped.
Before Lara could respond, Jaden stepped slightly closer—not aggressive, just present.
"She's fine," he said calmly.
The woman scoffed and walked off.
"You didn't have to—" Lara began.
"I know," he replied. "I chose to."
Her chest warmed.
Later, they sat near the water, feet brushing accidentally—and then not moving away.
"Can I ask you something?" Jaden said quietly.
She nodded.
"What scares you the most right now?"
The question surprised her.
She stared at the horizon. "Being seen… and not believed."
He absorbed that.
"Then I won't ask you to show me anything you're not ready to," he said. "But when you do—I'll listen."
She looked at him then.
Really looked.
That was when she knew.
The wall was still there.
But the cracks were forming.
And light was getting through.