The sunlight hit differently that morning.
It filtered through the gauzy bedroom curtains in soft gold streaks, painting the room in a light Hazel hadn't noticed before. Maybe it had always looked like this. Or maybe… something had shifted.
She stretched slowly, her limbs tangled in the silky sheets, and blinked at the ceiling with a faint smile.
No panic.No ache in her chest.Just breath. Warmth.
And—
She turned.
Adrian wasn't in bed.
Of course not.
He still hadn't gotten that far.
But his jacket was on the chair in the corner. Which meant he hadn't slept in the guest room, or the couch. He'd stayed close.
And for once, that was enough.
Hazel rolled out of bed, pulling on a robe, and padded barefoot into the kitchen.
The smell of coffee was already in the air.
She paused in the doorway.
Adrian stood at the counter, pouring coffee into two mugs.
Two.
Hazel blinked.
He turned slightly, offering her the second cup.
She took it.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He gave her a small nod.
No words. But then again, he didn't need them this time.
She took a sip and almost choked. "Oh my God. You added sugar."
Adrian looked at her.
"You never add sugar," she teased, pointing her spoon at him. "You drink your coffee like it's punishment."
He tilted his head.
She narrowed her eyes. "Was this an accident or… are you trying to impress me?"
A pause.
Then—slowly—he raised an eyebrow.
Hazel gasped, hand to chest. "A reaction?! From you?!"
He turned away to hide his smile, but it was too late.
She saw it.
A real smile.
Tiny. Barely-there.
But real.
Hazel beamed.
⸻
After breakfast, they found themselves in the garden.
It wasn't planned. Adrian had stepped outside to take a call, and Hazel had followed, still holding her mug.
They walked side by side through the winding stone path in silence.
Not awkward.
Just quiet.
Peaceful.
When they passed the bonsai tree near the fountain, Hazel stopped.
"Do you still trim it yourself?" she asked.
Adrian nodded.
"Can you teach me?"
He looked at her, surprised.
"I mean, I'll probably mess it up," she added. "But if you stand behind me and act mysterious, I feel like we'll look very zen."
That almost-smile came back.
He walked to the small table beside the tree and handed her a pair of shears.
She took them, then hesitated.
"What if I cut off something important?"
He tapped a low branch gently. The signal: start here.
Hazel bit her lip and trimmed a single leaf.
Adrian didn't flinch.
Encouraging.
She clipped another.
Then another.
And soon, she was humming quietly, the tension gone from her shoulders.
Adrian watched her. Not the tree. Not the sky.
Her.
And Hazel felt it.
That gaze.
That warmth.
That slow, deliberate attention that said more than any words ever could.
⸻
Later that afternoon, they ended up in the library.
Hazel sprawled on the couch, a novel in one hand, a chocolate bar in the other.
Adrian sat nearby, reading something thick and serious.
She glanced at him over the pages.
"Hey," she whispered. "You ever think we're just two weirdos pretending to be married?"
Adrian didn't answer, but his eyes flicked toward her.
Hazel grinned. "You're the strong silent type. I'm the emotionally chaotic gremlin. Together, we're unstoppable."
He stared at her.
She blinked.
"What?"
Adrian reached forward.
Hazel stilled.
He gently took the chocolate bar from her hand.
Broke off a piece.
And handed it back.
She accepted it with wide eyes.
"Did we just… share food?"
Adrian didn't react.
Hazel gasped. "Oh my God. Are we bonding?"
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
Her jaw dropped. "Did you just laugh? You almost laughed!"
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for a brief second, like he was trying not to let her win.
Hazel grinned wildly and leaned toward him, whispering, "I'm wearing you down, Mr. Blake."
His eyes opened.
Met hers.
And for the first time—
He didn't look away.
⸻
That evening, as Hazel wrote in her journal, she paused mid-sentence.
Then flipped to a fresh page.
Things Adrian did today that made my heart do weird flippy things: • Made coffee for two • Smiled • Let me murder bonsai leaves • Gave me chocolate • Looked at me like I was a person—not a ghost in Erin's body
She stared at the list.
Then added:
I think he's starting to trust me.I think… I'm starting to trust him, too.