Scarlett’s POV
“Scarlett…” His voice was low, almost reverent.
“Welcome home,” I said, my tone playful but shy.
“You did all this?”
I nodded.
He stepped closer, lips parted as though trying to find the right words.
“I just wanted to make tonight… special,” I added. “Because you’ve been there. Showing up. And I noticed.”
He didn’t say anything.
Instead, he closed the distance and kissed me, slow, sure, not rushed.
After dinner, after he told me it was the best meal he’d had in a long time, after the dessert practically melted in our mouths, after we both lingered longer than needed at the table, the whispers began.
The staff.
They were not subtle.
They whispered behind half-closed pantry doors, peeked from the hallway, smiled too knowingly when they passed.
Something about the
