Brief Encounters

Timeline 1 (Part 14)

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I grabbed my phone. William's message lit up the screen: How about dinner?

I hesitated for a moment before typing back, Let me guess—you're cooking? His reply came almost instantly, You'll see.

 The black car pulled up outside my apartment less than an hour later, Patrick waiting by the passenger door with his usual quiet efficiency. I didn't need to peek through the blinds to know the press was still out there—flashes of cameras cutting through the evening gloom were enough. William had sent the car to shield me from the chaos.

Sliding into the backseat, I tried to relax, but Patrick's occasional glances through the rearview mirror kept pulling me out of my thoughts. His gaze wasn't its usual cool professionalism; there was something contemplative, almost searching, in his expression.

"Must be tough," he said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, thoughtful. "Having everyone watch your every move."

I shrugged, keeping my tone light. "Comes with the territory, doesn't it?"

Patrick's lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe. But not everyone signs up for it willingly."

Before I could respond, the driver chimed in, his tone lighter. "People in love find a way to make it work, though. Don't they?" He winked at me in the mirror, a knowing smile pulling at his lips.

Patrick chuckled, but the weight in the car didn't lift. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his mind clearly elsewhere. The conversation drifted into silence again as we turned onto a secluded road lined with towering hedges.

The estate came into view suddenly, glowing softly against the darkened sky. Lanterns illuminated the sprawling gardens, their warm light spilling over perfectly manicured lawns and glistening fountains. The car rolled to a stop, and Patrick stepped out to open my door.

"Enjoy your evening," he said, his voice smooth but carrying a faint note of something I couldn't quite place.

I stepped out into the cool night air, and there he was—William, standing in the entryway with that familiar, disarming grin.

"Glad you made it," he teased. "For a moment, I thought you might bail."

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. "Oh, I thought about it."

He laughed, offering his arm. "Come on. I promise, no weird waiters this time."

The cobblestone path we followed was lined with blooming flowers, their fragrance mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Lanterns dotted the way, casting a warm glow over the intimate setting.

When we reached the table—set beneath a canopy of stars—I stopped short. It was stunning. Crisp white linens draped over the table, candles flickering in the breeze, and soft music playing faintly in the background.

William gestured grandly. "Prepared all this myself. Well... supervised, anyway."

I smirked. "Full marks to your staff."

The meal was exquisite—filet mignon, truffle risotto, and a wine pairing that complemented everything perfectly. But as perfect as the setting was, there was an undercurrent of something unspoken. I could feel it in the way William's hand lingered on his glass, his gaze occasionally drifting to me as if weighing his words.

Finally, he set his fork down, leaning forward slightly. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his voice steady but laced with hesitation. "I know what the press is like. What they've been saying... and I hate that you have to deal with it because of me."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued, his tone growing more earnest. "If we keep seeing each other, the attention won't stop. There's only so much I can do to protect you from it. And I need you to understand what that really means."

His gaze held mine, and in it, I saw the weight of his position, the burden of his name. But there was also something else—something deeper.

"I've thought about that," I said quietly, my fingers tracing the edge of my wineglass. "And I won't lie, it's... overwhelming. But I also know it's not your fault. You didn't ask for this any more than I did."

A flicker of relief passed over his face, but it didn't erase the worry in his eyes.

"There's something I need to tell you," I added, shifting in my seat. "I'm leaving for a tour with Roe. After that, it's off to New York for a while. I just... thought you should know."

His expression faltered, a flash of disappointment crossing his face before he nodded. "I see."

I offered a small smile, hoping to ease the tension. "But for tonight, can we just enjoy dinner? No heavy conversations?"

His lips curved into a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "You're right. Let's just enjoy tonight."

After dinner, we wandered through the gardens, laughter mingling with the cool night air. We found ourselves by a quiet gazebo overlooking a small lagoon, the water shimmering under the starlight. I perched on the railing, my heart pounding as he stepped closer.

"Jeanna..." His voice was soft, his hand brushing against my waist as he drew me closer. His eyes searched mine, a thousand unspoken words passing between us.

And then, he kissed me. Slow, tender, and deliberate, as if the entire world had faded away, leaving just us beneath the stars.

For a brief moment, it felt like this—we—could be enough.