The park was fragrant with roses and freshly cut grass, the late afternoon sun filtering golden light through the trees. Emma walked slowly with her fingers nervously twisting at the hem of her blouse. Rayne was strolling beside her, calm as ever, hands in pockets, each step of his feeling deliberate—everyone was measured.
She had dressed fairly simply: she wore jeans, a pale pink blouse, and sneakers. It wasn't very impressive, but looking at the way his eyes lingered on her clothing for a beat longer than necessary, she wondered if it even mattered to him.
"Is it always like this quiet?" he asked, breaking the quietness.
"It is when you know where to walk, really. Most people go to the main field."
"I like it here better," he said, gesturing to their surroundings. "It feels like a secret."
She nodded, feeling a bit lost about what to say next.
"So," Rayne said, glimpsing at her. "What's the real reason you agreed to meet with me?"
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "I don't know. Was I curious? Did I want to see if the rich boy with a notebook was just messing around?"
"And?" he said, although he was surprised.
"I'm still deciding."
A smile curved his lips which was something she hadn't seen too much of, "Fair enough."
They began walking again; it was a soft breeze that came past them. Emma tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and glanced at him, caressing the air between them. "So why me? Really."
Rayne exhaled heavily. "You're not scared of me."
"I don't know you well enough to be scared," she said plainly.
"No," he said. "Not that. You're not scared of what I represent—to people, anyway. Even status. Scandal. Pressure. Most people either like the name or are afraid of it."
She paused. "You say that like it is a burden."
"It is."
Once again, they were silent, lost in thought as the weight of his words sunk in and weighed down the air between them.
"Do you like your life?" she suddenly asked.
He looked surprised by her question.
"Parts of it," he admitted honestly. "I like to build. I like strategy. Otherwise? The expectations. The politics. The lies. Ugh. No, I don't like that part."
Emma nodded. She could understand. Not the wealth, but the expectations. Her whole life thus far had been a quiet act of rebellion against the hand fate dealt her.
"I want something real," he said quietly.
She looked up at him; his tone was not suggestive; it wasn't even romantic. It was earnest. It was longing.
"And you think you'll find that with me?" she asked.
"I think I already did."
Emma's heart fluttered.
Rayne demanded to walk her to the bus stop after their evening stroll. The fading sky revealed the first stars as he spoke words which would remain in her mind throughout the following days.
He declared to her that fate was something he refused to believe in. He believes that destiny brings people into our lives at the precise moment we need them.
She blinked up at him. "Is that another line you use?"
He smiled faintly. "No. Just the truth."
The bus arrived at the stop. She paused for a moment longer than necessary before boarding the bus. She watched him from the moving bus window as he stood there with his hands in his pockets while his face displayed an unreadable expression.
It felt like the beginning of something. Something dangerous. Something beautiful.
Kate requested the complete story from Alisha during their library visit the following morning.
Kate refused to accept Emma's attempt to focus on her notes.
"Come on, don't play coy. I noticed your face turn red when you entered the room. Did he kiss you?"
"No!" Emma hissed. "It wasn't like that."
"So… he confessed his undying love and you ran away dramatically?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "We just talked."
"Uh-huh. And did he say he likes you?"
"…Yes."
Kate laughed. "Girl, I told you. You're going to get to a mansion and drink wine on the balcony with three little dimpled babies in your arms.
"Stop, " Emma laughed. "It's nothing like that. His family.. Kate, they're— intense.
"Usually rich people.
No, You don´t get it. They are strong. The kind that can make anyone vanishes when they try to make a problem out of it.
Kate smile to warm and dim a bit. "Scared?"
Emma hesitated. "Not for him. What being with him could signify."
You always wanted a life of ease.
"I do."
Maybe this is where you should start to look at what simple actual means…" Kate whispered, gently.
---
Next time she ran into Rayne.
On the way home from the pharmacy a nice black car stopped for her and followed her.
"Hey- can you use a lift?" he called as he smiled from the window.
Half the table rolled her eyes, half in twatting and more. "You never give up of course.
Nope, when it really counts.
She got in.
It smelled like leather and very expensive cologne in the car. The soft jazz played through the speakers.
They never really chatted (maybe one or two times in between but it was not a bad talk). I mean, it was… relaxing.
He didn't so much as move to open the door when they pulled up in front of her building.
"Can I walk you up?
She hesitated. "My grandma's home."
He nodded, not pushing it.
"Maybe another day," she said.
He smiled. "I'll hold you to that."
As she stepped out, he reached for her hand, just for a moment. Just enough to send a ripple through her chest.
"Goodnight, Emma."
"Goodnight, Rayne."
And for the first time in a long time, she fell asleep smiling.
She hesitated. "My grandma's home."
He just nodded, he was not forcing.
"Maybe another day," she declared.
He smiled. "That I will."