The Innocent

The Possibility of Love

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And suddenly, I was back.

Back in my apartment. Back in the present. Back in the life I had spent so much time trying to build.

The memory of Ethan slowly faded, leaving behind that familiar heaviness in my chest.

I sighed and leaned my head against the back of my chair.

Why was I doing this?

Daniel had looked at me.

That was it.

He had spoken to me, noticed me, asked about my day. He had been kind.

And somehow, my mind had taken that tiny moment and dragged me five years into the past.

I laughed quietly at myself.

“Get a grip, Ariana.”

I stood up and walked toward the kitchen, deciding that I needed something to eat. Anything to stop my brain from wandering back to places I didn't want to visit.

But as I opened the refrigerator, another thought slipped in.

Daniel.

I closed my eyes.

No.

Not again.

Except this time, I didn't fight it.

I let myself think about him.

Really think about him.

The way he looked at me when he spoke. The calmness in his voice. The slight curve of his mouth when he smiled. The way he seemed to notice little things without making a big deal about them.

I had spent so much time convincing myself that I shouldn't notice him that I hadn't stopped to ask myself a much simpler question.

What if I wanted him to notice me?

The thought made my stomach flutter.

I leaned against the counter.

What would it be like?

Not to be loved.

Not yet.

Just to be wanted.

To have someone look at me and not see the quiet secretary behind the desk.

To have Daniel look at me the way I had secretly imagined.

My cheeks warmed.

“Ariana.”

I shook my head, but I was smiling now.

It was ridiculous.

I barely knew the man.

And yet my imagination had already decided to become irresponsible.

I imagined being alone with him after work.

Not in the office, surrounded by ringing phones and people rushing past.

Somewhere quiet.

Maybe a restaurant with dim lighting. Maybe his apartment. Maybe mine.

Somewhere we could talk without pretending that every conversation had to be professional.

In my imagination, Daniel sat across from me, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up.

He looked different outside the office.

Softer.

More relaxed.

His eyes stayed on mine.

“You're quiet tonight,” he said.

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not when you're comfortable.”

I smiled.

“And how do you know I'm comfortable with you?”

“Because you look at me differently.”

My heart skipped.

I looked down, suddenly shy.

“What if I do?”

He would smile.

That slow, knowing smile.

And then he'd move closer.

Not too close.

Just enough for me to feel the warmth of him.

I imagined his hand reaching for mine.

His fingers brushing against my skin.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing rushed.

Just a touch that would make every sensible thought disappear.

My breath caught.

I opened my eyes.

Oh.

My.

God.

I actually laughed.

“What is wrong with me?”

But the fantasy had already taken hold.

I imagined Daniel standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.

His eyes would move from mine to my lips.

And for once, I wouldn't look away.

I'd let him.

I'd let myself enjoy the feeling of being desired without immediately searching for a reason it would end.

His hand would settle gently at my waist.

I'd feel my heartbeat against his chest.

And then—

I stopped myself.

My face was burning.

I covered it with both hands.

This was insane.

I hadn't even been on a date with him.

I didn't know what his favorite food was. I didn't know what music he listened to. I didn't know whether he liked mornings or hated them.

For all I knew, he could be completely uninterested in me.

But that was the strange thing about fantasies.

They didn't need permission from reality.

They simply needed imagination.

And maybe that was what I liked about it.

For a few minutes, I didn't have to be the woman who had been left.

I didn't have to think about Ethan or Liam.

I didn't have to remember five years of promises or wonder where I had gone wrong.

I could simply be Ariana.

A woman who found a man attractive.

A woman who wanted to be kissed.

A woman who wanted to feel butterflies again.

A woman who wanted love.

My smile faded slightly.

Love.

There it was.

The word that had always frightened me and tempted me in equal measure.

I wasn't ready for another relationship.

I knew that.

At least, I thought I did.

But maybe wanting something wasn't the same as being ready for it.

Maybe I could simply allow myself to feel something without immediately turning it into forever.

Maybe I could enjoy a conversation.

A smile.

A little flirting.

A possibility.

Without giving someone my entire heart.

I walked back to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

Daniel's face appeared in my mind again.

This time, I didn't push it away.

I smiled.

Maybe there was something about him.

Or maybe there was something about the way he made me feel.

Seen.

Interesting.

Beautiful, perhaps.

I wasn't sure.

But for the first time in a long time, I found myself looking forward to tomorrow.

And that feeling scared me more than anything.

Because hope had always been my weakness.

But maybe...

Maybe this time, hope wouldn't destroy me.

Maybe this time, I will learn how to hold it carefully.

I lay back against my pillow and stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, I will see Daniel again.

And for the first time, the thought didn't make me nervous.

It made me smile.

I closed my eyes.

And somewhere between reality and sleep, I allowed myself one last little fantasy.

Daniel looking at me.

Me looking back.

And neither of us pretending not to feel it.