The balcony was quieter than the reception hall, the music fading into a distant hum behind the glass doors. Fairy lights hung loosely along the railing, casting a soft glow over the garden below.
Elena leaned against the rail, arms folded tightly over her chest. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her.
She had needed space.
From the noise.
From the looks.
From Adrian.
And now Daniel stood beside her.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Just enough to remind her that he was always careful with her heart.
"You've been like this all day," Daniel said gently. "Distracted. Somewhere else."
She glanced at him, then away again. "It's Maya's wedding. It's overwhelming."
"I don't think that's it."
She sighed softly, shoulders sagging. "Daniel…"
He didn't interrupt her. He never did. He waited, patient as always — and somehow, that made this harder.
"I saw the way you looked tonight," he continued quietly. "Not just at him. At yourself."
Her fingers tightened against the railing.
"You don't have to protect me from the truth," he said. "I already know something's wrong."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.
Finally, Elena whispered, "I don't even know what's wrong anymore."
Daniel nodded once, as if he'd expected that answer.
"That's okay," he said. "I'm not here to force clarity out of you."
She looked at him then, really looked at him. His expression wasn't hopeful or pleading. It was steady. Serious.
"But I need to be honest," he added.
Her chest tightened. "About what?"
About me.
He didn't say the words immediately. He took a breath first — slow, deliberate — like someone choosing his next step carefully.
"I've liked you for a long time, Elena."
Her breath caught.
"Not suddenly," he continued. "Not because of proximity or timing. I didn't fall for you in chaos. I grew into it."
She swallowed hard, throat tight.
"I see you," Daniel said. "When you're quiet. When you pull back. When you're pretending you're fine just so you don't inconvenience anyone."
Tears stung her eyes.
"And I love you enough," he said softly, "to not corner you with it. But tonight… I realized staying silent isn't protecting either of us."
She shook her head faintly. "Daniel, I—"
"I'm not asking you to choose me," he said quickly, gently cutting her off. "Not tonight. Not like this."
That surprised her.
"I just need you to know," he continued, voice steady but vulnerable, "that my feelings for you are real. And they're not passing."
Her lips trembled. "You deserve someone who's sure."
"I know."
A small, sad smile touched his mouth.
"But I also know love isn't always neat."
He stepped a little closer — still respectful, still careful — and lowered his voice.
"You don't have to give me an answer," he said. "I don't want one you're not ready to give. All I ask is honesty… eventually."
She nodded, tears slipping free now.
"I'm confused," she whispered. "And I hate that."
Daniel reached out, hesitated, then gently brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"I don't," he said. "It means you care. It means you're human."
She inhaled shakily.
"I won't pressure you," he added. "But I can't pretend I don't feel this anymore."
She looked at him — truly looked — at the warmth, the safety, the love offered without demand.
"I don't want to hurt you," she said softly.
"You won't," he replied. "Not by being honest."
They stood there for a moment, the confession settling between them like something fragile and sacred.
Then the balcony doors slid open behind them.
Neither of them turned immediately.
But Elena felt it — that shift in the air, sharp and undeniable.
Adrian.
Daniel saw the change in her posture first. The subtle stiffening. The way her breath caught.
He followed her gaze.
Adrian stood just inside the doorway, one hand on the frame, his expression unreadable. His eyes were dark, burning with something far more dangerous than anger.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
He knew exactly what he had interrupted.
Daniel straightened slightly, shoulders squared — not confrontational, but unashamed.
Adrian's gaze flicked to Daniel, then back to Elena.
Something cold and controlled passed through his eyes.
"So," Adrian said quietly, voice calm enough to be unsettling,
"I see I wasn't wrong."
Silence fell — thick, charged, inevitable.
Elena opened her mouth to speak.
But Adrian had already stepped inside.