The Bennet Scandal

A Restless Heart

Gabriel Westbrook stepped through the front door of his home, his mind still preoccupied with the events of the day.

"Where is everyone?" he muttered to himself as the dim light of the foyer greeted him.

He glanced around, but the living room was empty.

"Natasha?" he called out, setting his briefcase on the sofa and loosening his tie.

He took a breath, and the familiar scent of lavender floated through the air, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps.

"In here!" Natasha's voice echoed from the bedroom, slightly strained.

Gabriel followed the sound, finding her in front of the mirror, neatly dressed, her hair pinned back. She was finishing her makeup.

Leaning against the doorway, Gabriel's eyes tracked her every graceful movement as she stood at the vanity, carefully applying a final coat of lipstick. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm hue over her, making her look effortlessly stunning. But for Gabriel, it wasn't just her beauty that captivated him—it was the growing distance between them that gnawed at him. Tonight, he couldn't let that distance go unaddressed.

Quietly, he pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room, stepping behind her with a soft, deliberate approach. His fingers gently grazed her shoulders, trailing down her arms as he leaned in close.

"You look incredible tonight," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. He caught her gaze in the mirror, hoping to see a flicker of the connection they once had.

Natasha met his eyes briefly, smiling, but it was quick, almost distracted. She returned her focus to fixing her hair.

But Gabriel wasn't ready to let it go. He slid his hands down to her waist, pulling her gently against him.

"Natasha, I've been thinking about you all day," he murmured, his voice low and warm. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, then the back of her neck, letting his lips linger just long enough to send a shiver through her.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

She sighed, tilting her head slightly but still keeping her attention on the vanity.

"Gabriel, I told you—I'm running late."

His hands tightened a bit around her waist, pulling her closer as he gently turned her to face him.

"Five minutes," he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. "Just five minutes, Nat. Let's forget everything for a moment. I miss you." His voice cracked slightly, filled with longing.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly, hoping she'd melt into him. His fingers grazed gently under her ears, sliding toward the nape of her neck as he kissed her with a tenderness he hadn't shown in a long time, hoping she'd let her guard down—even just for a little while.

Natasha hesitated, her breath catching for a moment as if she felt the weight of his emotions. For a second, she softened, leaning into the kiss, her hand resting on his chest. But just as quickly, she pulled back, breaking the moment.

"Gabriel..." she murmured, biting her lip.

"I can't. Not tonight." She glanced down, adjusting her dress, her hands slipping from his chest. "I have to go."

He exhaled, trying to hide the disappointment tightening in his chest. He stepped back, letting go of her waist, but not before catching her hand, holding it a moment longer.

"You're always going," he said quietly, his eyes searching hers, still hoping she'd change her mind. "What about us?"

She squeezed his hand lightly before pulling away. "We'll talk later, I promise. It's just... not a good time."