Sophia
Noah arranged the dinner carefully, choosing a quiet, warmly lit restaurant rather than anywhere that might feel too formal or intimidating for what he described as a genuinely nerve wracking prospect for both of us.
"He's really looking forward to this," Noah assured me as we walked toward the entrance, though I could hear the slight nervousness in his own voice despite the reassurance. "I promise, he's different now. Genuinely different."
"I believe you," I said, squeezing his hand gently, though my own nerves hadn't fully settled either, memories of everything Richard Hargrove had once represented still lingering somewhere in the back of my mind.
Richard was already seated when we arrived, standing immediately as we approached the table, and something in his expression, warm
