Unexpected Tenderness
Aviana
Cade is pacing the room, his movements sharp, restless. It’s starting to worry me, but then he halts, suddenly staring out the window as if he’s seen something—something that makes his entire body tense. “Dammit!” he growls, his voice filled with frustration.
“Avi, can I ask you something… without you getting upset?” His tone is careful, like he’s walking on thin ice.
“I mean… I guess.” My words come out slowly, unsure.
“Can you stay away from him… until we figure out who he is?” He says it like it’s simple, but it hits me like a punch to the chest.
“We?” I repeat, my voice faltering. Who’s ‘we’?
“I’m not taking this to the police, Aviana. It doesn’t seem like he’s hurt you… yet. But I need to do some digging. I’ll find out who he is, and if I uncover anything, I’ll let you know.”
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, a mix of confusion and frustration bubbling up. “And how do you plan on doing that?” My voice cracks, sharper than I mean it to be.
“I told you, I have a friend—”
“Yeah, that detective,” I cut him off. “But how are you going to get any information from him when I don’t even know who he is?” I can’t help but feel the doubt creeping in, questioning his plan.
“I don’t know yet, Avi, but… can you just trust me? Please? ”
My defiance kicks in. “He hasn’t hurt me, so what’s the problem?”
“Avi, please.” His voice softens, a desperate plea that cuts through my resistance.
I remember our conversation about Scarlet, the way Nightshade talked about Cade. The words from that conversation twist and burn in my mind, and I turn them on him. “You’re jealous of him, aren’t you? That’s why you want me to stay away from him. You know he hasn’t hurt me, and you’re scared I’ll fall for him. You’re scared he’ll help me heal from everything. You want that ‘award,’” I emphasize the word with air quotes.
“Avi, it’s not …” he says, sitting down next to me on the couch where I’ve retreated, the distance between us thick with unsaid things.
“Then what is it?” I look down at my feet, unable to meet his eyes. Why won’t he just tell me the truth?
He reaches for my hands, his grip firm but gentle, like he’s trying to hold me steady, keep me grounded. “What if I told you… I am jealous?” he whispers, the words almost lost in the air between us.
I feel my breath catch, stunned by his honesty.
“Avi…” he continues, his voice full of vulnerability, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not just the way you look. It’s your smile—it can light up any room, even when there’s pain behind it. Your hair… it reminds me of childhood summers, running through the wheat fields on my grandparents’ farm. And your laugh… it’s like a melody. I’d love to hear it more, if you’ll let me.”
His words are tender, raw, and everything I didn’t expect. And just like that, the tension in the room shifts, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been too focused on my own fears to see what’s right in front of me.
He keeps going, his words slipping deeper into my heart with every sentence. “That one dimple on your left cheek, the one that shows when you smile… it calls out to everyone. And yo ur eyes,” he pauses, his gaze locking with mine, “they’re the window to your soul. If someone looks closely enough…” He shifts a little closer, his knee brushing against mine, and his voice drops to a soft whisper. “They’ll see the hurt that lingers, but they’ll also see the strength of the hope inside you. You carry yourself with this quiet confidence that… it’s magnetic.”
I can’t help but laugh softly, my chest tightening with something I can’t quite name. “Tell that to Claire and Hannah,” I tease, trying to deflect the weight of his words.
“Who?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“My best friends back home,” I explain with a small shrug. “They think I make myself seem small, like I’m hiding or something. They don’t see any confidence at all.”
His expression softens, and there’s something almost protective in his eyes. “Did you ever think that maybe they say that because you hold yourself better than they do? Aviana, you’ve been hurt over and over again, but your loyalty never wavers. I saw it when you were nervous about telling me about Nightshade. I saw how you didn’t want to betray him. You felt like it was something sacred between the two of you, didn’t you?” His words are a steady rhythm, each one peeling back a layer of the walls I’ve built around myself. “You are so much stronger than you realize. And even though you lie sometimes, you don’t let it consume you. The honesty that comes from you is… it’s something people need, something they crave.”
I feel a lump form in my throat, a rush of warmth spreading through me at his unexpected tenderness. And for the first time in a long while, I’m not sure if it’s the words themselves or the way they make me feel—seen, understood, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit stronger than I believed.
His fingers brush gently against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch is so soft, yet it feels like a spark, a tension that’s been building between us. But then, reality rushes in, and I pull back slightly, my breath catching in my throat. “Cade,” I gasp, my voice trembling, “we can’t do this. You’re my therapist. ”
He looks at me, his eyes intense, yet filled with something soft—something that doesn’t fit the usual boundaries of our relationship. “I am your friend, Avi.”
“But… policies,” I protest weakly, the word coming out like an excuse, like something that should matter but suddenly feels so far away.
He leans in closer, his breath mingling with mine, and before I can say another word, he gently presses his lips to mine. It’s like the world pauses—the weight of all our unspoken words, the tension, the fear, the longing, all melting away in that single moment. His kiss is gentle at first, tentative, like he’s waiting for me to pull back, to stop him. But I don’t. Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my hands reaching up to pull him closer. But my body tenses, stiffening for a moment, as though it's not sure how to react. I feel a flicker of guilt twist in my stomach, but I ignore it, trying to focus on the way his lips press against mine. The connection between us deepens, though something inside me stirs, uncertain.
For that one breathtaking moment, everything else fades—the rules, the doubts, the hesitation. It’s just us, and nothing else matters.