Chapter 170 Without An Agenda

Chapter 170 Without An Agenda
Lyra woke before Cade for once, the sun barely up, and lay there a while just listening to him breathe beside her.

She got up carefully, not wanting to disturb it, and made her way to the kitchen. The apartment felt different this morning.

She put the coffee on and stood at the window, watching the street below slowly wake up, an old woman walking a small dog, a delivery truck idling at the corner.

Ordinary things, she found herself grateful for ordinary things in a way she hadn't fully appreciated before this week.

Cade wandered in twenty minutes later, hair a mess, still half asleep, and dropped into the chair at the table like his legs had made the decision without consulting the rest of him. "You let me sleep again," he said.

"You needed it again."

"I could get used to this," he said, accepting the coffee she handed him. "Waking up slow, no emergencies waiting."

"Don't jinx it."

"Too late, probably." He took a long sip, some color returning to his face. "What's the plan today."

"No plan," Lyra said, sitting across from him. "That's the plan."

Cade looked at her like she'd suggested something radical. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," she confirmed. "No club, no ledgers, no Dante, no Garza. Just today."

"I don't know if I remember how to do that."

"Then we'll figure it out together."



They ended up walking without a destination, something they hadn't done in longer than either of them could easily recall.
"This feels strange," Cade admitted, hands in his pockets, matching her slow pace. "Walking somewhere with nowhere to be."

"Strange good or strange bad?"

"Strange good," he said, after considering it. "Just unfamiliar."

They passed a small bakery, the smell of fresh bread pulling them both toward the door without much discussion, and ended up sitting at a tiny table inside with pastries neither of them had planned on buying.

"When's the last time we did something like this," Lyra asked, breaking off a piece of something flaky and sweet. "Just walking with no agenda."

Cade thought about it seriously. "Honestly? Before the fire, maybe. Before all of it really picked up speed."

"That's a long time."

"It is." He looked at her, something soft in his expression. "I don't want it to be that long again before the next one."

"Then let's make sure it isn't."

They sat there a while longer, the small bakery quiet around them, sunlight coming through the front window in warm, lazy stripes across the table.

"Can I ask you something," Cade said eventually.

"Always."

"The boutique. Do you still think about it? With everything else going on."

Lyra considered the question honestly. "More than I probably let myself admit lately," she said. "It got harder to think about once everything with Sofia and Garza took over, but it's still there."

"What would it take," Cade asked. "To actually start it. For real, not just sketches."

Lyra looked at him, surprised by the directness of the question. "Money, mostly, a location. Time I haven't had much of lately."

"What if some of that changed."

"Changed how?"

Cade was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"If you take whatever Dante's offering, there'd be real money behind it. More than either of us has had access to before. You could use some of that toward the boutique, alongside whatever you're doing for the club."

Lyra sat with that, turning it over slowly. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Doesn't mean you have to," Cade said quickly. "I just want you to know the options are wider than they were a few months ago. Whatever you decide with Dante, the boutique doesn't have to stay just a dream because there's no money for it."

Something warm settled in Lyra's chest at that, the quiet practicality of it, Cade thinking through her future the way he thought through everything, methodical and careful. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what."

"For remembering it matters. Even with everything else happening."

"It matters because it matters to you," Cade said simply. "That's enough reason for me."

They spent the rest of the morning wandering without direction, stopping wherever caught their interest, a small bookshop that smelled like old paper, a park bench where they sat and watched a group of children chase each other across the grass, laughing in the uncomplicated way only children managed.

"Do you ever think about that," Lyra asked, watching the kids. "Having something like that eventually."

Cade followed her gaze, something thoughtful crossing his face. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Not in detail, just as a general feeling, something for later."

"Later meaning what."

"Meaning once things are actually settled," he said. "Once Garza's not a threat anymore, once the club's found its footing with whatever Dante's building it into." He glanced at her. "Do you think about it?"

"Sometimes," Lyra admitted. "Mostly in the same vague way you just described, a feeling more than a plan."

"Maybe that's enough for now," Cade said. "Just knowing it's something we both think about eventually."

"Maybe," Lyra agreed, leaning into him slightly as they sat.



By early afternoon they'd made their way back toward the apartment, unhurried, stopping once more for something to eat, the whole day carrying the unfamiliar rhythm of having nowhere urgent to be.

"I needed this," Cade said as they climbed the stairs. "More than I realized until we were actually doing it."

"Me too," Lyra said. "It's easy to forget what ordinary feels like when everything's been so loud for so long."

"Let's remember it more often."

"Deal."

Inside the apartment, Cade dropped onto the couch and pulled Lyra down beside him, both of them tired in the good way now.

"Tomorrow we go see Dante," Lyra said, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah." Cade agreed. "Today was just for us."

"Today was perfect," she said, closing her eyes.