Dinner that night felt... different.
The restaurant was quiet and intimate, lit by soft golden lights and the faint hum of music that seemed to fade into the rhythm of their breathing. Adam didn't talk about the past or the pain between them—he didn't have to. They simply talked and laughed, like two people who had found their way back to something familiar and gentle.
At some point, their hands brushed across the table, a small, accidental touch that neither of them pulled away from. Adam's fingers lingered, testing the silence between them, and when Sofia didn't move, his heart stuttered.
He reached for her hand fully then, tracing the curve of her palm, his thumb brushing softly over her skin. She didn't stop him.
