The restaurant was warm, elegant, and undeniably romantic—soft candlelight flickered against polished wood, the hum of conversation low and intimate. Caspian had chosen it deliberately. Not because he was trying to impress Laura. But because he wanted the night to feel different.
She sat across from him, her posture more relaxed than he was used to, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced around.
“This is weird,” she admitted, picking up her wine glass. “Sitting down. Not rushing back and forth between tables.”
Caspian smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Uncomfortable being served for once?”
Laura huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe. I’m not used to it.”
She ran her fingers along the stem of her glass, shaking her head. “I keep looking around, thinking I should be checking on so
