Compromise
899 Words
Rylee didn’t let it become awkward.
That, Hunter realized later, was part of her talent.
She didn’t interrogate him after the kiss. Didn’t demand explanations or apologies. She simply smiled, took his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and led him away from the crowd when the party started to thin.
“Walk with me,” she said. Not a question.
They moved through the garden paths, the noise of the party fading behind them. The night air was warm, heavy with jasmine and something unspoken.
“You look like you’re trying not to disappear,” Rylee said lightly.
Hunter let out a breath. “Something like that.”
She stopped, turning to face him fully now. Up close, she was even more striking—confident, open, alive in a way that felt easy to be around.
“You don’t have to be on all the time,” she said. “You know that, right?”
He hesitated. “It’s kind of my job.”
She smiled, softer this time. “Not right now.”
Her hand slid into his jacket pocket, fingers curling around his like it had always belonged there. Hunter felt the pull immediately—the simplicity of it, the lack of history, the freedom from rules that had nothing to do with contracts.
When she leaned in this time, he didn’t stop her.
The kiss was slower. Exploratory. Careful where the last one had been reckless.
He allowed it.
And when she pulled back, eyes searching his face, he didn’t step away.
“Dinner tomorrow,” she said. “Just us. No entourage. No security-mode stoicism.”
He should have said no.
Instead, he thought of Violet’s empty driveway. Of the silence he’d chosen. Of the ache that hadn’t eased no matter how far he’d gone.
“Okay,” he said.
Rylee’s smile widened—not triumphant, just pleased.
Over the next week, it became something unspoken but understood.
Drinks after long days. Quiet dinners that turned into lingering walks. Kisses stolen where no one was watching. Nothing reckless. Nothing that crossed the final line he refused to step over.
He didn’t sleep with her.
But he let her close.
Let her laughter fill the empty spaces. Let her warmth distract him when the nights stretched too long. Let himself believe—just a little—that this was harmless.
It’s just dates, he told himself.
Just kisses. Just enough to breathe again.
Rylee didn’t ask for more.
And Hunter didn’t offer it.
Still, sometimes—when she smiled up at him, or traced a thumb along his jaw before leaning in—his mind betrayed him.
Red hair. Freckles. Blue eyes.
He pushed the thought away every time.
Because this wasn’t Violet.
And that was exactly the point.
A month in, everyone thought they were together.
Which meant they were doing a very good job hiding it.
Rylee and Hunter didn’t hold hands in public. Didn’t sit too close at dinners. Didn’t give anyone anything they could point to and say there. What they did instead lived in quiet spaces—behind closed doors, late nights, stolen hours no one tracked.
It wasn’t nothing.
Kisses that lingered too long. Hands that learned each other’s comfort. Warmth shared in the dark without crossing the one line Hunter refused to step over.
He liked her.
That was the truth of it.
Rylee was fun in a way that didn’t ask much of him. Bright. Unafraid. She laughed easily, pulled him out of his head, made him feel wanted without history weighing every look down.
But when he lay awake afterward, staring at the ceiling of a room that still didn’t feel like his—
The ache was still there.
She didn’t fill it.
He’d hoped she might.
He hated himself a little for that.
Rylee sensed it sometimes. He could tell by the way she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The way her kisses occasionally slowed, searching for something he didn’t know how to give her.
“You’re far away,” she said once, tracing idle patterns on his arm.
“I’m right here,” he replied.
She smiled, accepting it.
For now.
**VIOLET’S POV**
Back home, Violet had learned how to say no without apologizing.
It surprised her how easily it came now.
A man at the mall—older than her, polite, confident—had smiled and asked if she wanted to get coffee sometime. Nothing wrong with him. Nothing wrong at all.
She’d felt the familiar flicker of flattery.
Then she’d seen Hunter’s face in her mind, uninvited and immediate.
“I’m not really looking to date,” she’d said, gentle but firm.
He’d nodded, wished her a good day, and walked away.
Violet stood there longer than she needed to, heart heavy with the realization she hadn’t told him the whole truth.
She wasn’t looking to date anyone else.
The house still felt quiet in ways that had nothing to do with sound. She avoided the kitchen in the mornings now. Stopped reaching for the top shelves altogether.
Some nights, she caught herself wondering if Hunter had filled the silence she’d left behind.
If someone else stood close to him now.
If someone else laughed with him.
If someone else kissed him the way she never had.
The thought hurt more than she expected.
- Writer
