The familiar scent of antiseptic and clean linens greeted Anabella as she and Noah entered the hospital. Nurses and doctors moved efficiently through the corridors, but as soon as they spotted Noah, the energy subtly shifted.
Conversations quieted, glances were exchanged, and before long, one of the senior nurses approached them with a polite but slightly wary smile.
"Mr. Vale," she greeted, her tone respectful but edged with familiarity. "What brings you here today?"
Noah’s signature warm smile erged, softening his sharp features. "Just visiting Clair. Is she in her office?"
"Yes, of course," the nurse responded quickly. "Right this way."
Anabella followed, feeling increasingly aware of how easily doors seed to open for Noah. The staff’s efficiency wasn’t out of courtesy—it was sothing deeper, sothing instinctive. Respect...or fear. She couldn’t tell which.
______
Clair’s office was small but ticulously organized, her personal touches scattered throughout—photos of friends, a soft throw draped over her chair, and a delicate lavender plant on the windowsill.
The mont they entered, Clair looked up from her desk, surprise flashing in her hazel eyes before her face lit up with joy.
"Noah! Anabella!" she exclaid, rising to her feet and crossing the room in a few quick strides. She pulled Noah into a familiar hug, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her tightly in return.
Anabella looked away, her chest tightening at the easy intimacy between them. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her—it wasn’t envy, not exactly. It was...a longing. A wistful ache for sothing she’d never had and probably never would.
Clair turned to Anabella with a warm smile, pulling her into a hug just as fiercely. "It’s so good to see you. I wasn’t expecting visitors today."
"We thought we’d surprise you," Noah chid in, still holding Clair’s hand. "Hope you don’t mind."
"Of course not!" Clair laughed, guiding them further into the office. "Co sit."
They settled into the small seating area near the window, Noah casually resting his arm on the back of the couch behind Clair. Anabella perched stiffly on the edge of the chair opposite them, feeling out of place despite Clair’s welcoming presence.
After catching up for a while, Clair suddenly clapped her hands together. "Let’s go out! We could grab sothing to eat."
Anabella’s stomach clenched. "Oh, I—" she began, but then stopped herself.
She couldn’t refuse. She’d left her card and cash back at her apartnt in her rush to leave with Noah earlier. Her only options were relying on them or walking ho—hours away on foot. The realization hit her with a wave of helplessness she hated.
She quickly lowered her gaze, forcing her expression to remain neutral. Stay calm. They can’t know.
But when she glanced up, she saw the brief flicker of understanding in Clair’s eyes, the tightening of Noah’s jaw. They knew.
Anabella braced herself for the inevitable offer—the charity she dreaded—but it never ca.
"Great idea," Noah said smoothly, standing up and stretching. "I know a place you’ll love, Anabella."
Clair bead. "Perfect! I’m starving."
Relief washed over Anabella, though she couldn’t quite et their eyes. Thank you, she thought, even if she couldn’t say it out loud.
The ride to the small restaurant was filled with light chatter. Clair animatedly recounted a funny story about one of her patients, while Noah occasionally added teasing remarks that made her laugh. Anabella listened quietly, letting their warmth wrap around her like a familiar blanket she didn’t deserve but couldn’t push away.
When they arrived, the restaurant was charming and cozy, with wooden beams and soft lighting. A hostess led them to a private corner table, and Noah ordered for the table with ease, selecting dishes he sohow knew Anabella would like.
As the food arrived, Anabella found herself relaxing despite her earlier anxiety. The al was delicious, and Clair’s gentle presence made the conversation flow naturally. For the first ti in a while, she felt almost...normal.
After dinner, as they walked back to the car, Anabella found herself falling a few steps behind, watching Clair and Noah ahead of her. Their fingers intertwined naturally, their laughter mingling with the cool night breeze.
Her heart ached again, but this ti she let herself feel it. She did envy them—their connection, their unwavering support for each other. It was sothing she’d never experienced, sothing she’d never thought she needed...until now.
As if sensing her thoughts, Noah glanced back, his gaze locking with hers. His dark eyes softened, filled with sothing unreadable but deep. Anabella quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her coat.
They reached the car, and Noah opened the passenger door for her with a small, knowing smile. "Ready?"
Anabella nodded, sliding into the seat, her heart still unsteady. As they drove back, she couldn’t shake the feeling that—despite everything—being with them felt safe.
And that terrified her more than anything.
As they approached the familiar city streets, Noah glanced at Anabella through the rearview mirror. Clair, sitting beside him, gently touched his arm, signaling her shared concern.
"Anabella," Clair began softly, "do you want us to drop you off at ho?"
Anabella’s whole body tensed at the question, her fingers curling into the fabric of her coat. She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.
"No," she said quickly, her voice firr than she intended. "Just...drop where you picked up."
Noah frowned but didn’t press. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as he navigated the quiet streets. Clair exchanged a worried glance with him but stayed silent, respecting Anabella’s need for space.
The car ride continued in strained silence until they reached the bakery’s entrance. Noah put the car in park and turned to face her. "Are you sure you’ll be okay?" he asked gently.
"I’m fine," Anabella insisted, already reaching for the door handle. "Thank you...for today."
Before either of them could respond, she stepped out, her coat wrapped tightly around her as if shielding herself from more than just the cold.
Noah watched her retreating figure, a deep sadness settling in his chest.
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