Chapter Thirty: The Distance She Allows
Nikolai’s POV
He followed her.
Not closely.
Not possessively.
Just… enough.
Four or five paces behind.
Far enough that he wouldn’t cast a shadow on her heels.
Close enough to see her hair lift slightly in the wind.
It wasn’t metaphor anymore.
It was repetition.
Every time she walked away from him now, he had a choice.
Step forward too soon and lose her again.
Or stay steady.
And maybe—just maybe—be allowed to stay.
**
The café had smelled like burnt espresso and rain.
Their conversation had lasted minutes.
But he would replay it in his mind for hours.
Not because she’d told him what he wanted to hear.
Because she hadn’t told him to leave.
And in the world of Lena Marceau, silence was the rarest invitation.
He didn’t walk beside
