Mihai
MIHAI
T he engine hums beneath us as I steer the sleek black SUV down one of the winding roads on the Willow Bridge estate. The place is massive, practically its own little city, and I know all its ins and outs like the back of my hand. But for Maddy, everything here is still new.
She sits quietly in the passenger seat, looking out the window as the scenery rolls by—dense forests giving way to sprawling fields, the sun breaking through the trees and dappling the road ahead.
“You good over there, baby?” I ask, glancing at her.
She turns to me with a small smile, her cheeks faintly pink. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s beautiful here.”
“Beautiful, sure,” I say with a shrug. “But also boring as hell when you’ve been here long enough.”
“I’m guessing you’re not exactly the stay-at-home type,” she teases, her accent wrapping around the words with that quirky lilt I’ve come to love.
I smirk, glancing at her again. “Nah. I like movement. Thrill. Things that make me feel alive.”
Her smile falters just a bit, but she quickly hides it by turning her attention back to the window. I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that head of hers.
I clear my throat, steering us onto a smaller path that leads toward one of my favorite spots on the estate.
“Thought we’d stop for a coffee,” I tell her, nodding toward the little café coming into view. It’s tucked away among a grove of trees, quaint and quiet—the perfect place to just… breathe.
Her face lights up a little, and the sight makes something in my chest tighten. “Coffee sounds perfect,” she says softly.
I park the car and lead her inside. The café’s rustic charm is a stark contrast to the luxury of the estate—a cozy space with mismatched chairs and tables, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It’s empty except for the barista, who greets us with a polite nod.
I order for both of us—two coffees and some pastries she’s chosen—then guide Maddy to a corner table by the window. She sits across from me, her hands wrapped around her mug, and for a moment, we just sit there in comfortable silence.
“So,” I start, leaning back in my chair. “Tell me about your family.”
Her gaze drops to her coffee, and I can see the hesitation in her eyes. I reach out, resting my hand on hers.
“You don’t have to if it’s too much,” I say softly.
She shakes her head, offering me a small smile. “No, it’s okay. It’s just… I haven’t really talked about them in a while.”
I nod, giving her the space to gather her thoughts.
Her fingers tighten slightly around her coffee cup, but she doesn’t shy away from the question. “My mum… she was the strongest person I’ve ever known. She always made things work, no matter how hard it got. After my dad died, she didn’t break—not in front of me or my sister, at least. She just… kept going.”
I don’t push, letting her take her time. She looks up at me, her brown eyes glistening. “My little sister, Isla… she was my best friend. The sweetest, most curious little thing. She’d follow me everywhere, asking a million questions about everything.”
Her voice cracks, and she takes a shaky breath. “She idolized me, you know? Always wanted to do what I was doing. And that day…” She trails off, looking away.
“Maddy,” I say gently, my voice low. “You don’t have to carry that guilt. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You sound like , the therapist.”
I chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I am full of surprises. But seriously, Maddy—you didn’t put them in harm’s way. You just happened to be caught in the crossfire.”
She looks at me, her expression filled with gratitude and sadness. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I nod, giving her hand a small squeeze before leaning back in my chair. “So, you and Isla were close, huh?”
She nods, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She was my shadow. Always wanted to be part of whatever I was doing. Drove me mental sometimes, but I loved her for it.”
I smile at the thought, picturing a younger Maddy with her little sister trailing behind her. “Sounds like she had a good role model.”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her mug. “I hope so.”
I tilt my head, smirking. “Oh, I’m pretty sure. But we can get to you later. Tell me about your dad.”
Her smile falters, and for a moment, I think she’s going to shut down. But then she takes a deep breath, her voice quiet but steady.
“He was… everything. The kind of dad who always made time for us, no matter how busy he was. He used to take us on these little adventures—picnics, hikes, sometimes just driving aimlessly until we found a new spot to explore. He called it ‘making memories.’”
Her voice catches, and she looks down at her coffee, her fingers tightening around the cup. “When he died, it was like… like the world shifted. Nothing felt right anymore. That’s why Mum thought it’d be good for us to be close to her family. A fresh start.”
I nod, my chest tightening as I watch her. “And was it?”
She shrugs, her smile bittersweet. “It was different, and I never really got along with Mum’s side of the family. Timi?oara is beautiful, and we found our rhythm there. But it was never the same. We missed him every day.”
“Sounds like he was a hell of a man,” I say, my voice soft.
“He was,” she murmurs, her gaze distant. “The best.”
We sit in silence for a moment, but I don’t push her to say more, sensing that she’s already shared more than she’s used to. Instead, I decide to shift the conversation, give her something lighter to focus on.
“What about you?” I ask, smirking. “What were you like as a kid?”
She laughs softly, the sound like music. “Oh, I was a proper terror.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “A terror, huh? Do tell.”
She grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s just say I had a knack for getting into trouble. Climbing trees, sneaking into places I wasn’t supposed to be… My mum was always saying I had too much energy for my own good.”
“Still true,” I tease, earning a laugh from her. “Little Rebel seems to be the perfect nickname for you.”
“Maybe,” she admits, shrugging. “But I like to think I kept life interesting.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “I’ll bet you did.”
We spend the next hour talking, trading stories and learning more about each other. She tells me about her favorite places in Timi?oara, her dream of traveling the world, and I soak it all in, every word, every smile, every laugh.
“So,” I say, leaning forward, “if you could go anywhere, do anything, what would it be?”
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly as she thinks. “I’d want to see places I’ve only read about. Greece, Italy, Japan… anywhere and everywhere.”
I nod, my lips quirking up. “Good choices. Greece especially. I’ll take you there one day.”
Her eyes widen slightly, her cheeks flushing. “You will?”
“Sure,” I say casually, though the idea already feels like a promise. “You deserve to see the world, Maddy.”
She looks away, her smile soft but shy. “Thank you, .”
I reach out, tilting her chin back toward me. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. Just stick around long enough, and I’ll show you everything you’ve ever wanted to see.”
Her breath hitches slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a moment, the world goes still, the noise and chaos fading into the background. It’s just us, sitting in this little café, and I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.
“Deal?” I ask softly.
She nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Deal.”