Amelia didn't sleep immediately when she got home.
She set her bag down quietly, switched on the small lamp beside her couch, and stood in the soft golden light for a long moment—hands pressed gently against her chest, where her heartbeat still felt warm and fluttery.
The night replayed in small pieces.
Ethan's hand around hers.
His breath brushing her hair.
His voice—steady, gentle, impossibly kind.
The way he looked at her like she wasn't just someone he cared about…
but someone he cherished.
A soft smile tugged at her lips before she even realized it.
She sat on her couch, pulling her knees close, staring at the light rain mist still visible through the window. She felt calm. Peaceful. Warm.
And not alone.
For the first time in a long time, she felt connected to someone.
She picked up her phone, the screen glowing softly. No new messages. She hadn't expected any—but still, something inside her hoped.
Before she could stop herself, she typed:
"Did you get home safe?"
Her thumb hovered uncertainly over the send button.
Was it too soon?
Too much?
Too vulnerable?
Before she spiraled, another message appeared on her screen—
from Ethan.
"I'm home."
Another message followed immediately, as if he'd been holding his breath.
"Thank you for tonight."
Amelia's heart fluttered.
Her fingers moved without hesitation.
"Me too."
She deleted it. Too short.
Typed again.
"I really enjoyed being with you."
Still too vulnerable.
She erased it again.
Finally, she typed:
"I had a lovely time. Thank you for walking with me."
Simple. Honest. Safe.
She pressed send.
The reply came faster than she expected.
"Anytime you want to walk, I'll be there."
Amelia felt her cheeks warm.
She typed again:
"Even if it's raining?"
A pause.
Then:
"Especially if it's raining."
She covered her face with her hands, smiling into her palms.
Her phone buzzed again.
"Goodnight, Amelia."
She hesitated—
just a breath—
then replied softly:
"Goodnight, Ethan."
She placed the phone on her nightstand, the glow fading as the screen dimmed. She curled into her blankets, letting the warmth of the day settle deep into her chest.
For the first time in months, Amelia fell asleep easily—
with peace instead of fear,
with hope instead of doubt,
and with Ethan's voice lingering gently in her mind.
---
The next morning…
Amelia woke up earlier than usual, soft light pouring through her curtains. For a moment, she just lay there, savoring the lingering warmth of yesterday's closeness.
Then she sat up slowly, stretching as she slipped out of bed.
She opened the shop earlier than usual—not because she had to, but because she felt lighter. Her hands moved with quiet purpose as she arranged petals and greenery in soft patterns, humming under her breath.
At some point, she paused, realizing she was smiling.
The bell above the door chimed softly around mid-morning.
Her breath caught.
Ethan stood in the doorway—
a little wind-tousled,
a little shy,
holding two warm cups in a paper tray.
One for him.
One for her.
He lifted the drinks slightly in greeting.
"Good morning," he said, voice warm.
Amelia blinked, startled and delighted.
"Good morning," she echoed.
He stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.
"I brought tea," he said.
"I thought you might like it."
Amelia's heart fluttered so hard she had to grip the counter.
"You came early," she murmured.
"I couldn't wait to see you."
The words hit her like a gentle wave—warm, unexpected, and deeply tender.
Amelia stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm glad you're here, Ethan."
And he smiled—slow, soft, and impossibly warm.