A Step Closer
977 Words
Chapter Four
Morning came too soon.
Audrey barely slept, twisting in her thin sheets, trying to will her thoughts away. But it was useless.
Her mind kept circling back to him.
To the quiet way he had said maybe. To the look in his eyes before he turned and walked away. To the fact that, despite everything, some foolish part of her was already expecting him to come back.
She groaned, throwing an arm over her face.
This was ridiculous.
He was just a man. A man with too much money and too many options, probably just toying with whatever amusement had caught his eye for the moment. And yet—
Would it be so bad if I came back again?
She exhaled sharply and sat up. Enough.
Her feelings, whatever they were, didn’t matter. She had work to do.
Rising from the bed, she crossed the small room to splash cold water on her face. The reflection staring back at her in the cracked mirror looked tired but determined. That was good. Determination, she could work with.
She dressed quickly, tying a scarf around her head before stepping out into the morning air.
The market was waiting.
---
Blessing was waiting, too.
"You look like someone who spent the whole night thinking about a certain rich man," she teased, grinning as Audrey unloaded a basket of oranges from the wooden cart.
Audrey shot her a glare. "I look like someone who’s about to hit you with a yam."
Blessing only laughed. "That would be so convincing if you weren’t blushing."
"I’m not blushing."
"You so are."
Audrey scowled, lifting another crate onto the stall, pretending she wasn’t thinking about the same thing Blessing was.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t.
Men like Adrian didn’t stay in places like this. They didn’t belong here, just like she didn’t belong in whatever glass castle he had been raised in.
"I don’t care if he comes back," she muttered.
Blessing snorted. "Liar."
Audrey ignored her and focused on arranging the fruit. The market was already waking up around them—the calls of traders, the smell of roasting corn, the clatter of people setting up for the day. It was loud, familiar, and safe.
And if she threw herself into work hard enough, maybe—just maybe—she could forget about him.
For now.
---
Adrian knew he shouldn’t go back.
He told himself that as he sat through breakfast, listening to his father talk about future investments, his mother reminded him about an upcoming dinner with Isabella Delacroix’s family.
He nodded at the right moments, answered when necessary, but his mind was elsewhere.
He thought of the market. Of the girl who had looked at him not as a prince, not as a future king, but just as a man standing in front of her stall.
It was unsettling. It was freeing.
And it made him reckless.
By the time the sun hung high in the sky, he found himself back in his car, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he stared at the winding roads that led toward town.
He had work to do. Meetings. Responsibilities. A life that had already been mapped out for him.
And yet, here he was.
Driving back to the market.
---
Audrey saw him before he even reached her stall.
She had been in the middle of counting change when a strange hush settled over the noise around her. She looked up, and there he was, weaving through the crowd like he had done it a thousand times before.
Her stomach flipped before she could stop it.
So much for not thinking about him.
Blessing sucked in a breath beside her. "Oh, this is getting interesting."
"Shut up," Audrey muttered, straightening and bracing herself as Adrian reached them.
He stopped in front of the stall, hands in his pockets, that familiar amused look playing at the corner of his lips.
"You’re back," Audrey said flatly.
"I was in the area."
"Convenient."
His smile deepened. "I thought so."
Blessing elbowed Audrey not-so-subtly. "I’ll just—go check on something. Far, far away."
Before Audrey could grab her, she was already slipping into the crowd, leaving her alone with Adrian.
She crossed her arms. "So, are you actually here for fruit, or is this some kind of game?"
Adrian tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Would it be bad if it were?"
Audrey narrowed her eyes. "That depends."
"On?"
"On what you expect to happen."
Adrian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he picked up a mango from the crate, turning it over in his hands as if considering something deeper than just the fruit.
"I don’t expect anything," he said finally. "But maybe I just wanted to see you again."
Something flickered in her chest, and she hated that it did.
"You don’t even know me," she pointed out.
"Maybe I’d like to change that."
She should tell him to leave. Should tell him that whatever curiosity he had would wear off soon, that there was nothing interesting about a market girl selling fruit.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, she said, "One mango. That’s it. And you better take your change this time."
Adrian chuckled, pulling out his wallet. "No promises."
Audrey rolled her eyes but bagged the fruit anyway, handing it to him with a firm look. "Take your change."
He held her gaze for a moment before reaching out—not for the money, but for her hand, pressing the bills into her palm.
His fingers brushed against hers, warm, deliberate.
"Until next time, Audrey," he said softly, before turning and walking away.
Audrey stood frozen, staring after him, the money still clutched in her hand.
She exhaled shakily, pressing her lips together.
Blessing was going to have a field day with this.
And worse?
She didn’t even care anymore.
- Writer
