The night air felt different when Lana stepped outside the restaurant.
Not colder.
Not warmer.
Just… charged.
She had expected to feel light, giddy, flattered — the predictable aftermath of a successful date with a charming man. Instead, something quieter lived in her chest. A thoughtful stillness. A question without words.
Thomas noticed her silence as they walked to the car, but he did not rush to fill it.
He simply opened the passenger door for her, his movements calm and unhurried.
“Thank you for tonight,” he said as she settled in.
His tone carried no assumption.
No claim.
Only appreciation.
“The pleasure was mine,” she replied softly.
And she meant it.
—
The drive back unfolded beneath a canopy of city lights. Soft music played low from the speakers, barely more than a
