The next morning, at exactly eight, Elara set the breakfast where Adrian had sat the night before.
"Good morning," she said softly. "French toast on the right plate and salad on the side."
He reached out, his movements deliberate.
"You can lift the toast with your hand. The fork for the salad is on your right," she added.
"Thanks." His fingers found the toast. He took a slow bite.
She watched him for a second. He moved with calm precision. No awkwardness. No hurry. Only control.
"Anywhere you want to go today. I can take you," she asked, keeping her tone light.
Adrian paused. "I want to visit Chinatown."
Elara smiled. "Great. We can leave at ten."
At ten, Adrian was already waiting on the sofa, dressed neatly.
"Should we call a taxi," she asked.
"Do you drive," he asked.
"I do."
"Use my car," he said and held out the keys.
She hesitated, then took them. His fingers brushed hers. Warm. Steady.
The drive began in quiet. The engine filled the silence. From time to time, Elara glanced at him. His expression stayed relaxed.
They arrived. Elara parked and came to his side.
"It is busy. May I hold your sleeve to guide you," she asked.
He nodded. She took his sleeve, her touch light yet sure.
They walked. Elara kept her words simple and practical. "Two steps up." "Curb to your left." "Bench ahead." She bought small snacks and passed each one to him. "Dumpling." "Sweet bun." "Fried dough twist." He tasted each in turn. When he smiled, something unsteady fluttered in her chest. Her pulse quickened. Heat touched her cheeks. She had never been this aware of a man.
"What made you want to come here today," she asked.
"No real reason," he said. "I have not been here in years. I can barely remember it now."
"My mother used to bring me. She always bought me cotton candy. It was my favorite when I was little." Her voice thinned on the last words.
"I am sorry for your loss," he said.
"Mrs. Vale told you about her," Elara asked.
He nodded. "She did."
"Do you want cotton candy today," he asked.
"I do," she said and tried to smile.
They stopped at a stall. Someone brushed past Elara too fast. She lost her balance and fell forward into Adrian.
Her palm landed on his chest. His arm came around her back and held steady.
"Are you all right. What happened," he asked.
"Someone knocked into me. I am sorry," she said, breathless. She stepped back at once.
"It is fine. Be careful," he said, voice low.
Elara looked up. Their faces were only inches apart. She was not sure if he sensed the nearness. For a moment they said nothing. The space between them felt delicate and full of something unspoken.
She cleared her throat and found his sleeve again. "Let us keep going," she said.
"Do you mind if I take a few photos of you and show them to Mrs. Vale? I just want to ease her worry," Elara asked as she took out her phone.
"Sure," Adrian said. His tone was calm, but his thoughts lingered on her words. She had asked for permission and she respected him.
That was new. Different from the way others treated him before.
Maybe he could trust her. Adrian thought, and for the first time in a while, the idea of trusting a stranger didn't feel impossible.
Later, as they turned back toward the car, Adrian spoke. "Elara, come to the office with me tomorrow. Wear something formal."
Elara blinked. "Understood," she said. The request surprised her. So did the way he said her name. It was the first time he had called her directly. Something small and bright fluttered in her chest.