Richard worked all morning, then had the healthy lunch Wendy had ordered for him. It looked alright, but he found it lacked any taste. He ate it anyway then turned back to the files that lay open on his desk. His attention slid across them without catching.
His mind drifted to the curve of Helene's smile, the softness of her voice when she said his name, the message that morning where she had confessed that she had not slept much because she kept thinking about yesterday.
The thought lit a quiet warmth in him, reaching through his chest like a small, steady flame.
After an hour of not much work, he sat very still for a moment, fingers resting on his phone. He told himself to wait. To be sensible. To respect boundaries.
But he wanted to hear her voice. The need was gentle, but insistent, something like thirst after a long day.
He exhaled slowly and pressed the call button.
She answered on the second ring, her voice soft with surprise.
"Richard?"
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
"I just wanted to hear your voice. How are you Helene?"
"Oh." There was the faintest smile in her tone. "You're making me blush."
"I would like to see you," he said quietly.
There was a small, breathy laugh. The sound softened the weight he had been carrying all day.
"Helene," he continued, "I was wondering if you might like to get a cup of coffee somewhere. I can come to you."
"You mean now?" she asked. "Are you abandoning your entire company for caffeine?" She teased.
"Only temporarily," he replied, smiling despite himself.
"Or you could come here. To my office. I could pretend to keep working while secretly doing nothing but enjoying coffee with you."
A soft gasp of amusement reached him.
"I think it's a little soon for that."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers brushing thoughtfully along the edge of his desk.
"I'm ready for people to see us together. It doesn't worry me. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
There was a pause. Not a cold one. A warm, thinking one.
"I appreciate that," she said.
"Truly. And I would like to see you. Just… perhaps not inside your office. Not yet."
A breath.
"How about tomorrow? We could meet for lunch. Somewhere near your building. If you aren't too busy."
"Even if I were," he said softly, "I would cancel everything."
She laughed then, shy and flustered and lovely. He could picture her covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes lowering in that gentle way of hers.
"You should not say things like that while you are supposed to be working. Now go on. Get back to it."
"I'll try," he murmured. "But I'll be thinking about our lunch tomorrow."
"I will be too," she admitted. "Goodbye for now."
He waited until the line disconnected before letting his breath out in a long, warm rush. The heaviness that had settled on him throughout the morning was gone completely, replaced by a quiet glow he hadn't felt in years.
He pressed the intercom and waited for Wendy's voice.
"Mr Hale?"
"I'll be out from one o'clock tomorrow," he told her. "I'm not sure what time I'll be back."
There was a brief pause, then a knowing, amused note entered her voice.
"Of course. I'll rearrange your schedule."
"Thank you."
He hung up and sat back, staring at the papers before him. He attempted to focus. He really did. But the memory of Helene's shy laugh kept drifting back to him, soft and persistent. His pen hovered over documents without moving. His eyes tracked lines of text he could not recall a moment later. He tried again. And again. And failed each time with a quiet, helpless exhale.
By four thirty he finally gave up. The numbers made no sense. The words bled together. His thoughts were elsewhere, already focusing on tomorrow.
He picked up his phone to check on Drew.
How are you doing?
Drew's reply came a moment later.
I'm okay.
A small relief loosened his shoulders. He typed again.
What would you like for dinner?
You choose.
Richard stared at the screen for a moment. Then an idea began to form. Something simple. Something that put them at ease. Something that could put a little lightness back into the children.
He typed:
Tell your sister to get ready. We're going out for dinner.
There was no reply for several minutes, but he could imagine the shift inside the house. Chloe lifting her head. Drew straightening a little. A small spark of excitement returning to their eyes after too many heavy days.
Richard slipped his coat on and stepped out of his office.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Wendy."
"Yes, Mr Hale."
He got on the elevator feeling lighter than he had in a long time. Tomorrow would bring its own questions and its own hope. Tonight he had his children. Tomorrow he would have a table in a quiet restaurant with Helene and a warmth he had almost forgotten he could feel.
Richard got into his car and headed into the evening with something almost like anticipation in his chest. The sky was already dark and it seemed to quiet the city just a little. He sat beside his driver with the window cracked open, letting in the faint hum of London at the cusp of night.
When he arrived, the children headed out of the house. Chloe appeared first, hair brushed, wearing a soft jumper and jeans.
"Where are we going?" she asked as soon as she got into the car, a spark in her eyes that always lifted Richard's mood.
"You two choose," Richard said, smiling.
"Anywhere you like."
Drew was close behind her, his expression attempting neutrality, but failing. The faintest hint of interest sat in his eyes.
"Anywhere?"
"As long as it's not deafening or dangerous," Richard added gently.
"And as long as they serve food."
Chloe tapped thoughtfully at her chin.
"Something Japanese? Or Thai? Something cosy."
Drew nodded.
"Something calm. Not a place where people shout across tables."
Richard felt a small swell of pride. His children had always gravitated towards quieter places.
"Alright," he said. "Where to?"
Chloe's face brightened.
"There is a Japanese place near Shoreditch. Ranjutso. My friend went for her birthday and said it's a really calm atmosphere and the food is amazing."
Richard raised a brow.
"What do you think Drew?"
Drew nodded eagerly.
"Ranjutso it is."
Chloe gave the driver the address and settled back. They watched the city move past them as they drove, the streets lit by the soft glow of shop fronts and apartment windows.
Eventually, Ranjutso came into sight. The windows were softly steamed from the warmth inside. Lanterns glowed in quiet rows across the ceiling, casting a gentle, amber light that settled over everything like a comforting hand.
"This looks nice," Chloe whispered, already stepping forward with a small smile.
Inside, the air carried the scent of ginger, warm broth and something sweet, like slow-cooked soy. The tables were simple, smooth wood. The music was soft enough that they could barely hear it, just a distant thread of piano and strings. Voices were low murmurs. Nothing sharp. Nothing loud.
A hostess smiled and led them to a booth partially shielded by a slatted wooden screen. Comfortable. Private. Calm.
"This is perfect," Richard murmured as he slid into his seat.
Chloe pressed her palms together with delight.
"Dad, look at this menu."
Even Drew's lips curled in a faint smile as he scanned the options.
"They have katsudon."
They placed their orders. Tempura vegetables. Miso soup. Fresh sushi rolls. Katsudon. Richard allowed himself something indulgent, a bowl of thick udon with prawns and a warm sake.
The food arrived in careful intervals, each dish plated with a gentle artistry that made Chloe gasp quietly.
"This is beautiful," she whispered as she took pictures on her phone.
Drew nodded in agreement, already eating with a care that told Richard more than any words could. His son had been carrying so much. Yet here he was, letting himself enjoy something. Even if just a little.
As they ate, their conversation drifted in small, soft waves.
Chloe talked about a project she was working on. Drew told them about a video game he and his friend were building from scratch. Richard listened, asking quiet questions, letting the sound of their voices fill the gentlest corners of him.
There were moments when they fell silent, but it was an easy silence. A peaceful one. Not the heavy kind that had painted their home only the day before.
At one point Chloe reached across the table and nudged Drew's hand.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly. There was no audience but their father.
Drew nodded, looking at his bowl.
"Yeah. I am. Better today."
Chloe squeezed his fingers. Drew rolled his eyes, but his mouth softened at the edges.
Richard watched them, his heart warm and aching at the same time. Relief washed through him slowly, like a tide rising to claim the shore. They were healing. Maybe not quickly. Maybe not neatly. But the wounds had stopped bleeding. And for tonight, that was enough.
When the bill was paid and coats were slipped back on, they stepped outside into the cool night air. The street was calm, the city softened to a gentle hum. Drew tucked his hands into his pockets. Chloe looped her arm lightly into Richard's arm.
"That was really nice," she said. "Thank you, Dad."
"It was," Drew agreed quietly.
"Can we come back sometime?"
Richard nodded.
"Yes. As often as you like."
On the drive home, both children grew quiet in the gentle, contented way that came after warm food and soft light and the sense that they were safe.
When they reached home, Drew murmured a goodnight and headed upstairs. Chloe hugged Richard tightly and he placed a gentle kiss on her head before she too headed up.
Richard stood in the hallway for a moment, letting the stillness absorb around him. The evening had been simple. Ordinary. But it had calmed the storm deep inside him that had been trembling since Eleanor showed up.
They were alright. His children were alright. He was doing something right.
He exhaled slowly, a tender warmth spreading through his chest.
Tomorrow he would see Helene again, and he felt that quiet possibility stirring once more. It was shy. It was hopeful. It was a beginning.