Not all about...
688 Words
What does it feel like to have dinner with someone you truly like?
It feels… magical.
Even something as simple as salad tastes like something richer, warmer—like comfort itself.
Caitlin felt that magic.
Because tonight, she wasn’t just sitting with Raffelo—
She was seeing a different side of him.
When she confessed her feelings earlier, he didn’t rush into anything. Instead, he gently kissed her forehead.
That surprised her.
Because Raffelo always seemed like a man driven by desire, by intensity—but this version of him?
This one felt softer.
Safer.
And she liked it.
It made her believe that maybe he wasn’t just about physical connection—
Maybe he could offer care, warmth… something real.
---
They were so lost in conversation that they forgot to open the champagne.
Raffelo stood up, picked the bottle, and started opening it.
Caitlin stood beside him.
And then—
He shook it slightly.
The champagne burst open, spraying everywhere.
Across them.
Across the moment.
She gasped.
He smirked.
It was intentional.
Of course it was.
The liquid ran down her skin, catching the light.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Close enough to feel her breath.
Close enough to make her wait.
Because he didn’t kiss her.
Not yet.
He was teasing her.
And she knew it.
So she didn’t wait anymore.
She held his face—
And kissed him.
This time, she initiated.
But Raffelo responded instantly.
His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer, while the other held her firmly as the kiss deepened—intense, consuming, full of everything they had been holding back.
---
They moved toward the rooftop.
A tent-like private space had been set up there.
Soft lights.
Quiet air.
Just them.
Inside—
The distance disappeared.
Hands moved freely.
Clothes slowly came off.
And soon—
There was nothing left between them.
They gave in completely.
To passion.
To desire.
To each other.
---
SIX MONTHS LATER
Things had changed.
Not just between them—
But within them.
Caitlin wasn’t just drawn to Raffelo anymore.
She was used to him.
His presence.
His care.
Because he did care.
On her bad days, he showed up with her favorite coffee.
On her quiet days, he stayed without asking questions.
And slowly—
She stopped questioning him too.
At least… most things.
---
Except one.
The child.
And the woman connected to him.
Every time she asked, his answer remained the same.
RAFFELO
“The baby is mine… but not biologically. His mother is my ex. I know it sounds complicated, but you just have to trust me.”
And she did.
Or at least—
She tried to.
After a while, she accepted that some things about Raffelo would always remain unclear.
---
They spent time together often.
Long drives.
Quiet evenings.
Even dancing in the woods—
Not wild, not reckless—
But real dance.
The kind that made them feel connected.
---
One day, while they were out, Raffelo suddenly collapsed onto the sand, exhausted.
Caitlin rushed to him, lifting his head into her lap.
She gently massaged his head, worried.
His phone kept ringing.
Again.
And again.
He wasn’t in a state to respond.
So she picked it up and disconnected the call, placing it aside.
Then she noticed—
Messages.
An office group.
But she hadn’t been added.
She frowned slightly.
Maybe it was nothing.
So she ignored it.
---
The next day—
Caitlin sat in the cafeteria, sipping her coffee, waiting for Raffelo.
Usually, they spent time together whenever she was free.
But today—
He was in a meeting.
So she went to his office.
His assistant asked her to wait inside.
---
Caitlin wasn’t someone who could sit still.
She looked around.
Then—
Her eyes fell on his tablet.
Curiosity.
Just a little.
She picked it up.
Raffelo trusted her enough to share his passwords.
So unlocking it was easy.
The screen lit up.
And she saw—
“......”
---
And in that moment—
Something inside her shifted again.
Because sometimes—
Love feels safe.
Until it doesn’t.
- Writer
