Chapter 6 #2
Her mouth curved, faint but there. “You might regret saying that later.”
“I honestly doubt it.”
Their food arrived, and they ate, talking between bites. The room carried on without them. The pianist’s music segued from one song into another.
“So after you finish all six years,” he said, “what then? Working in a clinic, hospital, or your own practice?”
“That depends,” she said. “Wherever there’s an opportunity, I guess. I haven’t given it much thought beyond my residency. I have over half a decade to figure it out.”
He studied her face—focused, steady, a woman already living like the next six years were crouched just offstage. “You’ll end up exactly where you belong.”
She didn’t answer right away. She cut another bite instead, clean and precise. “We’ll see.”
He didn’t push. Some truths needed room, not pressure.
“Dessert?” the waiter asked when their plates were cleared.
Chuck looked at Marie. “Shall we split something?”
“Sure.”
The waiter rattled off a list of decadent options, and they decided on cheesecake to go with their coffee. When they took their first bites, they agreed it’d been the right choice.
He put down his fork. “Can I ask you something without things getting too heavy?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“The other night—when you said you’d see where this could go—were you being polite or honest?”
“Honest,” she said with conviction. “If I didn’t mean it, Chuck, I wouldn’t have said it.”
“Good.” He kept his voice even. “Because I really want to see you again. I know it won’t be easy—between my job, my mother, and your residency, but.
..” He turned his hand palm-up on the table, and she set hers on it without hesitation.
Her skin was so soft as he rubbed his thumb over it.
“I’ve never met another woman like you, and I’m afraid to let you slip through my fingers. ”
Her gaze melted as if his words had warmed her heart. “I want to see you again too. Yes, it’ll be difficult. But walking away from something that feels right because it’s not convenient?” She gave the slightest shake of her head. “That would be the real mistake.”
Something in him let go—a tightness in his gut that he hadn’t realized was there. “You feel it too—this thing between us?”
A faint blush spread across her cheeks. “I do.”
He nodded once, more to steady himself than to persuade her. “Then if one of us has to put our priorities first—your hours, my mom—we don’t take it personally. We just pick back up when we can and learn the rest along the way.”
“Agreed.”
After he paid the check, they left the restaurant.
The temperature was a little warmer than it’d been over the weekend.
Instead of putting on her coat, she just draped it across her shoulders.
The cloudless sky allowed the stars to shine, and a half-moon hung low to the south.
Chuck wasn’t ready to end the date. “Care to take a walk?”
“Sure.”
They didn’t go far—just a block over and into Independence Park.
They talked about nothing that mattered and everything that did.
Chuck felt like he’d known her forever, yet it wasn’t enough.
Images of them in the future filtered through his mind—getting married, having kids, supporting each other’s careers, and traveling the world.
It was all so clear that he could almost reach out and touch it.
When an owl hooted overhead, they stopped and searched the trees for it.
Unable to spot it, Chuck let his gaze fall to the woman beside him, only to meet her own.
Seeing his desire mirrored in her eyes, he closed the distance between them and slowly lowered his head, giving her time to retreat if she needed to. She didn’t.
The kiss hit him harder than expected—a jolt of electricity lighting up every cell in his body.
Her lips were soft, warm, and certain. A hand settled on his lapel for balance.
He kept one palm at her waist, not pulling, just there, and the other hovered before he gently cupped the back of her head, holding her in place.
The city went distant and quiet, leaving them in their own cocoon.
She deepened the kiss first, brushing her tongue across his bottom lip.
Something low in his chest answered. He kissed her back and let the heat build without giving it the reins.
She tasted like coffee and wine and the beginning of something he already wanted more of.
For a beat, nothing else in his life had a name.
When they finally broke apart, the evening air rushed between them, doing nothing to cool his desire. She touched her fingertips to her mouth, as if marking the place where his lips had devoured hers. He drew a steady breath, the first one that didn’t feel stolen.
“Okay,” she said. Not a question.
“Okay.”
He pulled her in, not gently so much as inevitably, needing the feel of her against him to steady what the kiss had stirred.
She came without resistance, her head finding his shoulder like it already knew the place.
They stayed like that for several moments, the night still and hushed around them.
Her breath brushed across his neck in soft puffs.
“So, dinner on a Wednesday was a good idea for a first date.” Her voice was low against him, a smile living inside the words.
His chuckle was deep and genuine. “Sometimes I have those—I meant the good ideas, not the first dates.”
“Well, keep having them—the ideas.”
“I intend to.”
Reluctantly, he released her, and they continued their walk, this time, hand in hand. The sounds of the city came back into focus again—balanced, breathing, and alive—made more so by the woman beside him.
Chuck didn’t know what his future held, only that it began with her.