YURI

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dinner was the usual—light chatter, shared laughter, and the comforting hum of clinking cutlery. We all talked about our day, though I noticed mom smiled a little more tonight, as if she wanted to keep the atmosphere warm and easy for everyone.

When we were done, I walked her to her room, supporting her gently by the arm. She eased herself onto the bed, and I tucked the blanket around her the way she used to do for me when I was a child.

“Goodnight, baby,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, mom,” I replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning off the bedside lamp.

I stepped out of her room quietly, closing the door just enough to let a sliver of light in from the hallway. Then, feeling the weight of the day settle in, I headed outside.

The cool night air wrapped around me like a quiet embrace. The sky was a deep shade of navy, scattered with stars that blinked lazily. I took a deep breath, letting the crisp scent of the garden fill my lungs. Out here, away from the noise of the house, everything felt still—yet my mind kept wandering back to a certain pair of eyes I swore I wasn’t thinking about.

I think I stayed outside too long—long enough for the cold to creep through my sweater and make my fingers numb. I was just about to head in when a blanket settled softly over my shoulders.

The moment the hand brushed against my skin, the butterflies I’d spent the whole evening trying to ignore came rushing back in a wild swarm.

I froze, my heart thudding hard in my chest. And when I turned my head and saw him, I was so shocked that I jumped up from my seat. The blanket slid right off me and landed on the ground.

We both bent down to pick it up at the same time, and *thunk!*—our foreheads collided.

“Ow!” I winced, pulling back quickly and rubbing my head.

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and warm, while I took an awkward step back, still clutching my forehead.

“I thought you went back to New York… for a meeting or something,” I blurted, my voice a mix of surprise and suspicion.

His lips quirked in the faintest smile as he straightened, the moonlight catching the sharp line of his jaw. “Change of plans.”

Damn. His voice.

It wasn’t fair—how a simple arrangement of sound could stir the pot in my already chaotic mind. One second I was standing there under the moonlight, and the next, my brain had betrayed me—whisking me away into an entirely different universe.

A universe where his hands weren’t holding a blanket, but holding *me*. Where his lips were against my neck, where he was breathing hard, and where my name tumbled from his mouth in a way that made my knees weak.

I swallowed hard and shook my head ever so slightly, snapping myself back to reality before my cheeks gave away the movie playing in my head.