Nadine

Nadine
Nadine
"Oh my, my! What a relief to see a familiar face—away from Hardin," I say with a playful grin as I pull Kayla into a warm hug.
Hardin dramatically places a hand over his chest like he’s been wounded. I just roll my eyes at him.
"Kayla, you’re glowing! Seriously, it’s so good to see you," I say, taking a step back to admire her.
"You think so?" she laughs, looking between me and Hardin. "It’s really good to see you too!"
"My bad," I say, realizing I should introduce them. I pull her closer. "Kayla, meet Hardin. Hardin, meet Kayla."
I notice the way Kayla is waiting for me to explain more about who Hardin is to me, but honestly, I’m not in the mood. Let them guess.
"Nice to meet you," they both say at the same time.
Kayla chuckles. "I was about to leave, but I had to stop by when I saw you."
"Okay," I replied casually. I don’t ask who she was with—just like I didn’t explain who Hardin is to me. It’s only fair.
"Alright, take care," she says, giving me a look, then darting her eyes toward Hardin.
I know what she’s thinking, but I don’t owe anyone an explanation. It is what it is.
As she walks away, Hardin and I are left alone again, continuing our conversation.
"Where have you been all my life?" I tease, finishing off my glass of wine.
Hardin leans back in his chair, watching me with amusement. "Yes! I’m glad my charm is finally working.
I want to make up for all the lost time with you, sis. And I’m glad I left an impact." He reaches across the table, taking my hand.
"Aww," I coo dramatically, making him roll his eyes.
Hardin is a cool-headed guy, always composed no matter the situation. Even though he’s three years older than me, he never acts superior.
His mother passed away while giving birth to him, so it’s always been just him and Gabriel—our father.
When Gabriel told him about me and Nathalie, he was thrilled. He had always felt lonely, and suddenly, he had siblings.
"Let’s be on our way. I have a meeting with a client," he says, rising to his feet and helping me up.
Hardin works as a cybersecurity expert, and he takes his job seriously.
"Okay," I say, gathering my things as we leave the restaurant. He walks beside me, his steps naturally falling in sync with mine.
In the car, he opens the door for me before I get in. But instead of shutting it immediately, he lingers for a moment.
"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"You have something in your mouth," he says, reaching out to gently wipe it away.
"Thanks," I mumble, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"I think I’ll make sure you get home first before heading to my meeting," he says, turning to get into the car.
His protective instincts are always on high alert, and honestly, I can’t blame him for that.
The drive home is quiet. I’m exhausted—the therapy session drained me emotionally, and I thought dinner was a nice distraction.
But I’m grateful for Hardin. His moral support, his effort to take me out, and just his presence mean everything.
When we arrived, I let out a tired yawn, stretching my arms before turning to him.
"Thank you so much for today." Without thinking, I throw my arms around him, and he pulls me into a warm hug.
"Anytime, Nadine," he says softly.
I pull back and playfully roll my eyes. "Okay, my overprotective big brother."
He chuckles. "Go inside before I carry you in myself."
Smiling, I step out of the car and head toward the house, feeling just a little lighter than before.
I make my way toward the elevator, offering a small smile and a quick "Hi" to George as I step inside. The ride up feels longer than usual; my body is weighed down with exhaustion.
The moment I step into my apartment, I sink onto the couch, too drained to carry my weary body up to my room.
The silence is almost deafening—it’s the weekend, so the place feels emptier than usual.
After a few minutes of just sitting there, I finally forced myself to move. A hot bath is exactly what I need to relax my aching muscles.
In the shower, I let the warm water cascade down my body, closing my eyes as the steam wraps around me.
I allow myself to breathe, to let go of the weight of the day.
Therapy was intense, but I feel lighter—like a burden I didn’t realize I was carrying has started to lift.
A small smile tugs at my lips as I think about my next session. Maybe, this is the start of something good.
Once I’ve had enough of the warmth, I step out and wrap a towel around myself, heading to my room.
Since I’m home alone, I opt for a very skimpy nightie—something soft and barely covering much. I just want to be comfortable, to feel free.
As I settle into bed, an unexpected restlessness washes over me. Sleep no longer seems like an option.
Instead, an urge builds inside me—to talk to my son. But to do that, I’d have to call Logan.
I shake my head. No. It’s his turn to have Shawn. I need to respect that, to let him have his time with our son without interruptions.
Sighing, I place my phone down, but just as I do, it dings with a message.
My face lights up when I see it’s from Hardin.
"Have a beautiful night’s sleep, sis."
Smiling, I sent him a heart emoji in response.
Just as I’m about to check that everything is in place before finally settling in for the night, the elevator dings.
I freeze.
My brows furrow. ‘Did Hardin come back?’
Slowly, I rise from the couch and make my way to the entrance. As the doors slide open, my eyes widen in shock.
He’s here. Standing in flesh and blood, looking right at me.
My pulse quickens. My heart races.
‘What is he doing here?’The question echoes in my mind, but my lips refuse to form the words. I’m numb.
His gaze slowly takes down my body, and suddenly, I feel self-conscious about what I’m wearing.
Finally, I find my voice, though it’s barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"
But before I can finish the sentence, he crashes his lips onto mine, stealing the breath straight from my lungs.