SHE hesitated.
It wasn’t dramatic. There was no visible conflict in her expression, no sharp intake of breath. Just a quiet pause. A measured second where her mind weighed impulse against caution.
A walk.
At night.
With a man she had known for barely two days.
He didn’t rush her. Didn’t add pressure to the silence. He simply stood there, hands loosely clasped in front of him, waiting as though her answer— whatever it would be— was perfectly acceptable.
Amelia exhaled.
“Alright,” she said finally, her tone light but deliberate. “A short walk.”
The way his face brightened caught her off guard.
It wasn’t smugness. It wasn’t triumph. It was something almost boyish, like a child whose carefully folded paper plane had actually taken flight.
“Great,” he said, unable to mask the small gr
