The text arrived at 6:47 AM, three minutes before her alarm.
She knew it was Nathan before she even looked.
> Nathan: Good morning, sweetheart. Don't overthink today.
Too late for that, she thought, staring at the screen. She'd been awake for hours.
>Nathan: I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven, the Gala won't start without you.
Elena smiled at the screen, the words warming her in a way coffee couldn't.
For the first time in a while, she felt excited, genuinely excited. The Gala wasn't just another social obligation anymore; it was something to look forward to.
Something ours!
She set the phone aside, curling under the blanket a little longer.
She could trust Nathan completely. That much she knew.
He wasn't just charming, he was steady, patient, an anchor in a world that kept trying to pull her back into expectations. His calmness quieted her chaos.
He was, in every sense, a heart warmer, the kind that made her forget the edges of her fears.
And yet…
A sliver of doubt pressed at the back of her mind.
There were moments — fleeting, barely there — when his expressions shifted. Like something unfamiliar passed behind his eyes, something he masked before she could name it.
He always recovered fast, a flash of unreadable calm but it left a strange ache in her chest.
He shared little about himself. Every time she asked, he smiled, brushed the question aside, or turned it into something sweetly teasing. He talked, yes, but she never walked away feeling like she truly knew him.
Maybe that's just how he is, she told herself. Maybe he's simply private.
Still, the thought unsettled her.
What happens when Mom and Dad come back?
How would they react if they found out about Nathan?
Would she even have the spine to face them and say, this is what I want?
She shivered at the thought.
Nathan would be my support, when the time comes.
For now, we are going slow, just one step at a time. Even Nathan is giving me time, even he, himself is taking it slow.
Maybe that's how relationships function!
The knock of reality faded when her phone rang again. Isla's name flashed across the screen.
> Isla: "Girl, are you going to skip campus today? I really need help."
Elena sat up, smiling. "Help? On what?"
> Isla: "Relationship stuff."
That got her attention. "Okay," she said slowly. "But you're coming over."
> Isla: "Fine by me! See you in half an hour."
Elena chuckled as she hung up. Maybe it was a good thing. She'd wanted to talk to Isla anyway. Maybe she'd finally say some of the things she'd been bottling up.
After all, Nathan never said Isla's name when he made that 'no one needs to know' rule.
But she'd make sure to leave Adrian out of it. He didn't need to know anything.
Not yet anyway!
---
Isla arrived just as the house began to smell of butter and herbs. They decided to cook together, something easy, something that didn't require much thinking. Between laughter, scattered flour, and an unnecessarily dramatic argument over seasoning, the kitchen felt lighter than it had in days.
"So," Elena said, sliding a tray into the oven. "What's this relationship stuff you need help with?"
Isla grinned, leaning against the counter. "I'm in love."
Elena blinked. "Again?"
"This time it's different," Isla said dreamily. "He's so handsome and kind, and—ugh—he actually listens when I talk. I think I'm completely gone for him."
Elena smiled despite herself. "That's… adorable. Who is he?"
Isla bit her lip, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I can't tell you. Not yet. We're not official."
Elena raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is it someone I know?"
Isla hesitated — too long. "Umm… yes," she said at last. "But please, no more questions."
"That bad, huh?"
"Not bad," Isla sighed, "just… complicated. I'm sure he feels something too, but he's not saying it. I know he's in love with me, Elena, I feel it, but he just won't admit it. It's driving me insane."
Elena smiled gently. "Sounds like he's taking his time."
Isla groaned. "Exactly! It feels like an eternity to decide." Then, softening, she looked at Elena. "Maybe I don't even need advice. Maybe I just need a promise."
"A promise?"
"Yeah." Isla's tone turned serious. "That you'll support me — us — when the time comes."
Who could it be?
Elena tilted her head, sensing more beneath the words. But Isla's expression was closed, guarded, so she only nodded. "You know I always have your back."
Isla exhaled with a relieved grin. "Good. That's all I need for now. Just remember your promise when the time comes."
They plated the food and settled at the table, comfortable in the hum of background music.
After a few bites, Elena found herself staring at her plate, the thoughts from earlier creeping back in.
Isla noticed. "Alright, spill it. You've been quiet for five minutes. That's suspicious."
Elena laughed lightly. "Nothing dramatic. Just… thinking about Nathan."
"Ah," Isla said knowingly. "The man who has your brain rewired. What about him?"
Elena rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. "He's been so good to me, Isla. He's patient, sweet, always knows what to say. He takes things slow, never pushes."
"Sounds like a dream," Isla teased.
"Yeah, but…" Elena frowned slightly. "Sometimes he feels… distant. He shares so little about himself. When I ask, he dodges the topic or changes it. He's honest, but I don't always feel satisfied."
Isla shrugged. "It's the early phase, Leena. You're both still learning each other's rhythms. Give it time, let the comfort build before you start asking for deep stuff."
Elena nodded slowly. "Maybe you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Isla said, grinning. "You just have to spend more time with him. Talk openly. Don't overthink every pause — that's how you'll kill the fun."
Elena smiled faintly, relief washing over her. "Can we keep this between us?"
Isla crossed her heart dramatically. "Always. Your secret's safe with me."
---
A sudden chime broke their laughter, the main doorbell echoing through the quiet house.
Elena frowned, setting her fork down. "Maybe that's Nicky," she said, standing.
Isla's reaction was immediate. "No no, it can't be," she said quickly, too quickly. "He was out of town."
Elena turned back toward her suspiciously. "And how would you know that?"
"I…uh…asked him this morning if he could come visit you."
Elena narrowed her eyes, catching the awkward stammer. Isla never lied well. She's definitely making that up.
Before she could say anything more, the bell rang again, sharper this time, impatient.
"I'll get it," she muttered, brushing her hands on a napkin as she hurried toward the door.
When she opened it, surprise spilled across her face. "Oh! It's you."
Nathan stood there, perfectly composed, hands in his pockets and that familiar half-smile tugging at his lips.
"Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked lightly.
"No no, I am," she stammered. "It's just… I didn't expect— just come in already." She stepped aside, her pulse doing somersaults.
Isla appeared from the dining room almost instantly, her bright tone a little too cheerful. "Hello, Nathan! What a pleasant surprise."
"Hello, Isla," he said smoothly. "Good to see you too."
His eyes flicked toward the table, where two half-finished plates and open bottles of juice sat. "Am I interrupting a girls' night?"
"Nope, you're right on time, Nathan," Isla said, her voice a shade too quick. "Join us, please."
"Smells good," he remarked, glancing toward the counter. "Who cooked?"
Isla beamed. "Obviously our favorite chef, Elena! Come on, check it out. It's perfect." She laughed, already tugging him toward the table.
Elena, still a little disoriented by his sudden arrival, grabbed another plate and began setting it for him. "I didn't know you were coming," she said softly.
"Neither did I," he replied easily. "Just… felt like seeing you."
She glanced up — that smooth charm was back, the kind that made it impossible to be annoyed.
"Here," she said, placing the plate before him.
As she sat back down, Isla checked her phone. The screen lit up, one unread message, and her face shifted.
"Sorry, guys," she said suddenly, pushing her chair back. "My time here's up. I've got to go."
"What? You were going to stay till late," Elena said startled, standing up.
"Rain check," Isla replied quickly, grabbing her bag. "Something came up."
Her tone was too rushed. Too rehearsed.
Elena didn't question it. Maybe she just wants to give us some space, she thought.
She went to the door with Isla, gave her a goodbye hug and locked the door.
When she turned back, Nathan was already eating. His expression softened as he took a bite.
"Oh, come on, Elena," he said, gesturing toward the chair beside him. "Make yourself at home. Sit with me. This is good. Really good."
He leaned back, smiling. "I can't even remember the last time I had home-cooked food."
Elena smiled, sitting across from him. "I'm glad you like it."
"I like it more than like," he said, his voice smooth, the faintest tease curling around the edges of his words.
For a moment, the air between them was still again. The kind of stillness that wasn't quiet at all, but full of unspoken things.
---
Nathan set his fork down, leaning back slightly, his gaze still on her. "So," he said, casual but probing, "where's Nick tonight?"
Elena shrugged, running a thumb along the rim of her glass. "Work, as always. I barely see him these days. The new import deal Dad's been negotiating has everyone running wild. Nick just comes home for a few hours, then leaves again."
"That's good," Nathan said smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "He's grown up enough to focus on operations. The logistics side of business can teach more than any degree."
She smiled faintly. "You sound like Dad."
"Do I?" he said, tone light but eyes unreadable. "Well, he's right. Pressure shapes the best operators."
"Yeah, maybe," she murmured. "But sometimes I wish we could slow down. I haven't really seen my family in weeks."
Nathan tilted his head. "And when are you planning to jump into the chaos yourself?"
"Not sure yet," she said. "Maybe next year. I'm still learning the ropes. I help out with the accounting and financial planning side for now."
His smile deepened. "That's impressive. Keeping numbers clean for an import house is no small task. Everything collapses without it."
Elena's cheeks warmed. "Thanks. It's not much, but it feels good to contribute."
"It's everything," he said softly. "And David knows it. I remember at dinner the first time we met, he couldn't stop praising your focus. Said you had an instinct for the business, that you see patterns other people miss."
What? Dad spoke highly of me?
That's new!
She blinked. "He said that?"
"He did," Nathan replied, voice dipping lower. "He even joked that one day you'd help modernize Hamilton & Co. — that you'd lead the next chapter. I believed him."
"You… remember all that?"
"Of course," he said. "You think I'd forget the moment I realized I was sitting across from someone who might someday be running my biggest UK distributor?"
Her laugh was small, unsure. "That sounds a little too official."
"Maybe," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. "But partnerships start long before paperwork. Brown Designs and Hamilton & Co. already share more than contracts. They share trust."
The way he said trust sent a tiny shiver through her.
And that trust could be broken by you Elena!
Nathan reached for his glass, swirling the liquid idly before speaking again. "Tell me something, Elena," he said casually. "Do you really know who your parents are, outside of this house, I mean?"
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
He leaned forward slightly, his tone quieter now. "You know what they do, how they run the business, how they raise you." He paused for a second before continuing.
"But do you know them? What kind of people are they really? What drives them? What have they done to build all this?"
"I… I don't know," she was dumbfounded. "We never talk about that kind of thing."
What is he trying to ask?
What does he mean by 'what kind of people are they really?
He nodded slowly, his gaze sharp but sympathetic. "You should. People aren't as simple as they look, especially in business. The kindest faces can hide the toughest deals."
Elena frowned, a little unsettled. "You talk like you know something I don't."
He smiled, that calm sliding perfectly back into place. "Maybe I just pay more attention."
His words lingered between them. Half-truth, half-warning.
Nathan's tone lightened again. "Anyway," he said smoothly, as if the moment hadn't happened. "You are coming to the Gala tomorrow, right? I'd hate for the night to start without you."
"I'll be there," she said quietly.
"Good," he murmured, his thumb brushing her knuckles. "Wouldn't want my favorite distraction to miss her own spotlight."
Nathan stood, sliding his chair back, and came to stand behind her.
Before she could turn, his fingers brushed her shoulders lightly, testing, then traced slowly down her arm until they found her hand.
"You should get some rest," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
She nodded, but her body leaned toward him, drawn to the heat he offered.
He turned her gently to face him.
"Tomorrow," he said, not a reminder, but a promise.
Then he bent, lips grazing the curve beneath her jaw, not deep, but deliberate, enough to steal her breath and still her thoughts.
Elena froze, caught between surprise and surrender.
He didn't kiss her mouth. He didn't need to.
By the time he stepped back, her pulse was already echoing his silence.
"I'll see you at the Gala," he said, the ghost of a smile curving his lips.
And then he was gone, leaving her in the dim light.
She wasflustered, breathless, and unaware that every gentle touch had been a carefully placed chain.