Veiled Hearts

Twelve

The night had a way of drawing her in deeper than she expected, and before she knew it, Violet found herself walking through the doors of La Traviata a quaint, upscale Italian restaurant tucked away from the bustling city streets. The warm golden glow from the chandeliers, the scent of garlic and fresh herbs filling the air—it was intimate, almost too intimate for what she had intended.

Dr. Langston was already seated at a secluded table in the corner, a glass of red wine cradled between his fingers as he glanced over the menu. His eyes flicked up the moment she stepped inside, that familiar smirk playing at his lips.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said as she slid into the chair across from him.

"I wasn't sure either," she admitted, taking in the low-lit room. It felt far too private, too removed from the outside world. But something about this place—about him—made it hard to leave.

He raised his glass toward her. "To spontaneity."

She hesitated for a moment before picking up her own glass and clinking it lightly against his. "To... spontaneity."

The wine was rich, smooth, the kind of taste that lingered on your tongue, just like Dr. Langston's presence. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her, and she could feel it—a subtle pressure that made her feel exposed, even though she was sitting fully dressed in a public place.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low, as if he could read the thoughts racing through her mind.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

He nodded slowly, setting his glass down. "You're wondering what you're doing here. Why you're even entertaining this... whatever this is."

Violet swallowed hard, feeling her pulse quicken. He wasn't wrong.

"But you also can't deny you're intrigued," he continued, his tone smooth, deliberate. "Something about me has your attention, and it's not just the wine."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. He was bold, far bolder than anyone she had ever encountered. He spoke what others only hinted at, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

She shifted in her seat, her gaze dropping to the table. "I'm not... it's not that simple."

"It never is," he said, leaning forward slightly. "But you're overcomplicating it. We're two people, having dinner. Enjoying the moment. Don't think too far ahead."

She glanced up at him, feeling the weight of his words. He made it sound so easy, so simple. But it wasn't. Not when Jason was still a question mark in her life, and Dr. Langston was so clearly willing to push the boundaries.

"I've heard about you, you know," she said, her voice soft but direct.

He smiled, not surprised in the least. "I'm sure you have."

"I know how you operate," she added, her tone firmer now. "I know the kind of man you are."

He didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching her with amusement. "And what kind of man am I, Violet?"

She hesitated, her heart racing as she met his gaze. "The kind who gets what he wants."

His eyes darkened slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intense. "You're right. I usually do."

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. There was no arrogance in his tone, just a matter-of-fact certainty that left no room for argument.

"But I'm not forcing anything," he added, his voice softer now. "You're here because you want to be. No one's holding you captive."

She swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. He was right—she was here by choice. She could have stayed at the ball, she could have gone home, but instead, she had come here. And that terrified her because it meant she wasn't as in control as she wanted to believe.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted quietly, more to herself than to him.

Dr. Langston's gaze softened, and for a moment, the intensity between them seemed to ease. "That's okay. You don't have to decide right now."

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. The touch was fleeting but electric, sending a jolt of energy through her. She pulled her hand back instinctively, her mind racing.

"I think I need some air," she said abruptly, standing up from the table before he could respond.

She walked out of the restaurant, her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped onto the quiet street outside. The cool night air hit her skin, and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. What was she doing? This wasn't her. She wasn't the kind of person who got swept up in something like this—especially not with someone like Dr. Langston.

But there was something about him, something undeniable that made it hard to walk away. And that scared her more than anything.

Just as she was about to turn back inside, the door swung open, and Dr. Langston stepped out. His expression was unreadable, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that caught her off guard.

"I didn't mean to push you," he said softly, stepping closer. "I just... wanted to spend some time with you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "It's not that. I just... I don't know where this is going."

He took another step toward her, his voice low. "It doesn't have to go anywhere right now. Just... enjoy the moment, Violet."

She looked up at him, her heart still racing. Part of her wanted to run, to retreat into the safety of what she knew. But another part of her—an increasingly louder part—was tempted to stay, to see where this could lead.

Before she could stop herself, she found herself nodding.

"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll stay."

His smile returned, softer this time, and he offered his arm. "Shall we?"

She hesitated for only a moment before slipping her arm through his. They walked back inside together, the tension between them still palpable but different now—more controlled, more mutual.

As they sat back down at the table, the conversation flowed more easily. Dr. Langston talked about his travels, his passion for medicine, and even shared a few humorous stories about his early days in the hospital. Violet found herself laughing, feeling more at ease than she had in days. There was something disarming about him, something that made her forget the world outside.

But underneath it all, that same uncertainty lingered—the feeling that she was walking a fine line, one that could easily be crossed if she wasn't careful.

Still, for now, she let herself enjoy the moment. The future could wait.

For now, she was here, with him.