Chapter 53

KAIA

The next morning, I woke up to a text that made my stomach twist.

Callum: Dinner tonight? Pick you up at 7.

I stared at it for a long time, just... staring.

This was it. The date. The one where he'd probably ask me again—this time for real—to be his girlfriend.

And instead of feeling excited like a normal girl would, all I felt was this tight, uneasy pressure sitting heavy on my chest.

I wasn't ready.

Hell, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be.

I spent the entire day going back and forth in my head, trying to come up with an excuse. Something believable, something easy. But every time I thought of one, I imagined the look on Callum's face and immediately erased it.

Nothing felt like a good enough reason not to go.

By the time I got back to my dorm that afternoon, my thoughts were still tangled and screaming.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside, already halfway planning how I could mentally survive tonight, when I stopped short.

Adrien was standing in the living room.

With Amy.

They were deep in conversation—like really deep. She was leaning in, her brows knit. He looked calm, like always, but there was something serious in his eyes.

They both turned to me the moment I stepped in.

"Hey," I said carefully, closing the door behind me. "What's going on?"

Amy straightened up in her seat.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Adrien just came by to check up on me."

I glanced at him. He gave me a soft smile.

I smiled back. Of course. After our talk yesterday about Amy and Nate, it made sense. He probably came by to talk to her, maybe warn her. Or... support her. I wasn't sure yet if it went well or horribly wrong.

I kicked my shoes off and started heading toward my room when Amy called out, "Hey, you doing anything tonight?"

I slowed. "Why?"

"I'm going out with a few friends. Adrien and his guys are coming too. You should come."

I forced a polite smile and shook my head.

"Can't tonight."

"Why not?" she pressed.

"I've got... other plans."

Amy raised an eyebrow, and I knew exactly where her brain was going.

"Ohhh," she grinned. "Are you going on a date with Callum?"

And just like that, the room shifted.

I felt it instantly. The heat of Adrien's gaze. The stillness. The way the air got heavy.

I didn't even look at him. I couldn't.

"...Yeah," I said, barely above a whisper.

Amy, being Amy, had no idea what kind of tension she was stirring up. She grinned like a devil and kept going.

"Ooooh! Okay, Miss Callum's Girl," she teased, nudging me. "You better not come back here walking weird tonight if he takes you out for dessert after dinner—"

"Amy!" I hissed, turning red.

But I glanced at Adrien.

And instantly regretted it.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

He was staring right at me, jaw clenched, eyes unreadable. That calm expression of his was gone. In its place was something sharper—something colder.

And it cut through me like glass.

I turned on my heel and disappeared into my room, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click.

Leaning against it, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

My heart was racing. My chest ached.

Why did it feel like I just did something wrong?

I sank onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling, hands knotted together in my lap.

Callum wanted to take me out. Callum had been clear about how he felt. He didn't play games. He wanted something serious.

So why did I feel like I was betraying someone?

Why did Adrien's reaction matter so much?

Why did it hurt to see him look at me like that?

I groaned softly and buried my face in my hands.

What the hell was I doing?

And more importantly—was going out with Callum tonight really worth risking the one thing that actually felt stable between me and Adrien?

OoO

I walked out of the dorm building, the chilly air nipping at my bare legs, my heels clicking against the pavement. My red dress clung to my figure just right, paired with a sleek black coat that kept me warm but still let the outfit shine. I'd curled my hair, glossed my lips, and forced a little extra shimmer onto my cheeks—just enough to look like I wasn't internally spiraling.

I spotted Callum leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, looking unfairly handsome. Like, movie-scene handsome. His dark blazer was perfectly fitted, hair tousled just enough to look natural, and when he saw me, his face lit up.

Okay, Kaia. Look excited. Smile.

"Hey," I said, hoping my voice didn't give away how tense I was.

"Hey, gorgeous," he replied, and before I could say another word, he kissed me.

It wasn't rushed—it was slow, purposeful, like he was trying to make a point. That I was his tonight.

He pulled back just a little, eyes running over me.

"You look... incredible."

I smiled and thanked him softly as he opened the car door for me.

"You're not looking too bad yourself," I teased.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet in a sweet, comfortable way. Callum never let go of my hand, his thumb brushing gentle strokes against my skin. Every time I glanced at him, he was already looking at me.

When we pulled up, I blinked in surprise.

The place was called Velluto—one of the most elegant restaurants downtown, the kind you usually only hear about in whispered gossip or Instagram stories with no location tag. The kind of place where a dinner bill could murder your bank account.

The outside had this sleek, modern marble finish with gold accents and warm lighting. Inside, everything was dim and ambient, with velvet curtains, gold chandeliers, and tables draped in white linen. There was soft jazz playing in the background, and the scent of fresh herbs and buttery pasta drifted through the air.

I didn't ask how much this place cost. I didn't want to know.

Callum stepped up to the front desk and gave his name.

"Callum Morris. 7PM reservation."

The woman behind the desk smiled politely and gestured toward a tall waitress who appeared out of nowhere. She was dressed in all black and glided like she was on wheels.

"Right this way."

She led us through the restaurant until we reached a table tucked into the farthest corner of the room. The entire wall beside us was glass—a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city skyline glittering under the night sky.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect.