Midnight Rain. Novella

I shouldn't like her.

Astrid is the kind of person who lights up a room just by walking into it - not because she wants to be noticed, but because she doesn't care if she is.

And yet, every time I walk into that bar, I hope she'll look at me. Just once. Like I'm not wearing this damn uniform. Like I'm not everything she's right to avoid.

She doesn't talk to officers. I respect that. Hell, I admire it. But it makes it worse that I'm
me - Kriegsmarine captain, stiff as hell, and haunted in all the wrong ways.

She smiles at everyone but me.

I don't think she hates me. If she did, I could live with that. Hate is easy. But she dodges me - like if she stares too long, she might see something in me she doesn't want to understand. And I wouldn't blame her.

Because I'm not the kind of man women like her fall for.

I'm the kind they regret trusting.

But I can't stop coming back. Can't stop sitting at the end of the bar, pretending not to notice how close her hand comes to mine when she reaches for a glass. Pretending I'm not waiting for her to say my name like it means something.

I shouldn't like her.

But I do.

And every day, it gets a little harder to pretend I don't.