As our dinners were served, Dad was ever so excited to talk about what inspired him to go all Asian with the dinner. I never paid heed to that. But then no one did. He was like a radio, speaking in the background, when all we wanted was to stuff our faces with food.

His speech came to a painfully slow stop, and we all dug in, as a routine of chatters and passing the dishes across the table began. Chloe was sitting right across me, so it made me her primary target for gossip.

And although I nodded to every word she said, my ears were strained sideways, towards my right, where it was way too quiet.

I picked my glass of water, raised it to my lips and tilted my head up, purposefully trying to steal a glance at Miss. Quiet.

With the spoon loosely clasped between her fingers, she moved the food around the plate, looking lost somewhere far beyond the chattering around the table. Her eyes were down, long eyelashes fanning her flushed cheeks. It was only then that I noticed a little scar below her ears, running down the length of a vein on her neck. It had mostly faded into the tone of her skin, but if you focused close enough, you could make out the little mark.

I shuddered to think how she got it.

Is that why she is always wearing her hair down?

Maeve’s eyes shifted from her plate, as she leaned back in her chair and I quickly brought down the glass, which was now empty. I didn’t realize when I gulped it all down, or for how long I was holding an empty glass up in air.

That wasn’t even the worst part.

When I set the glass down, Chloe was staring at me, left eye slightly narrowed then the right, looking…suspicious.

I narrowed my eyes back at her and quickly looked away. There was no way out of every person seated at the table right now, I would tell her about all this.

But the eye battle didn’t end like I thought it did, because soon I felt a kick to my feet under the table.

I bit down a hiss and looked up.

Chloe was giving me a ‘What are you trying to hide?’ look. Her eyes quickly trailing to Miss. Quiet, then back at me.

I ignored her and lowered my eyes. She kicked me again.

I huffed out a breath. Another kick.

That’s it.

I pulled my legs away from her in a swift motion, to dodge her shoes. But the next moment, I stiffened. Someone beside me, stiffened too. And I– God.

My right foot had pushed through–what I could feel were–Maeve’s feet.

My. Leg. Was. In. between. Her. Feet.

I looked up. She looked up. Our eyes met. And I quickly pulled back my feet.

Dammit, Cole.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered an apology without looking at her, biting the inside of my cheek to gulp down a groan.

Damn you, Chloe.

I suppressed the urge to kick her back. But the stirring anger faded away when I heard a snicker from my right side.

I looked up, and Maeve was biting down on her bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile.

That mouth is very distracting.

“It’s okay.” she said, the volume of her voice imitating mine.

Did I amuse her? Or was she straight away laughing at me? Either way, I liked the way her tensed face relaxed.

Laugh on me more, please.

And as the conversation had already begun, it was hard to keep my mouth shut. She had a beautiful voice and I really wanted to keep hearing her talk.

Say something, Cole. Say something…

“Why don’t you try and eat something?”

…nice.

Her smile faltered, and eyes moved down to her plate.

Nicely fucked up.

I internally groaned, and cleared my throat. “I meant you haven’t touched the food. Is it not up to your liking?” The words rolled off my tongue in a guilty mumble. I didn’t mean to steal that smile from her face.

Maeve softly shook her head. “I am not picky. Just, not used to this.” She said, and a little frown set her lips into a straight line.

“Not used to what?”

She looked up, not at me, but around the table at everyone. “Being around a…” Her voice trailed off.

“Crowd?” I followed her gaze, and silently sighed, realizing Chloe was no more looking over at us.

“A family.” Maeve said, and something in the tone of her voice, begged my attention.

I turned to her, and she was already staring at me, but as soon as our eyes met, she looked away. I was itching to hear more. To ask why she said that. To know more about her family, about the scar under her ear.

But instead, something totally unexpected came out of my mouth.

“You’re always welcome here, Maeve.” We were whispering to each other now, keeping the conversation away from the ears of everyone else. And I liked it too much for any good. “What did Chloe whisper in your ear?” I ignored her surprised look at my previous statement, and focused on her eyes.

Christ, her eyes...

The corners of her lips twitched into one of her almost-smiles. “Considering she whispered it in my ear, you should take the hint that it wasn’t something meant for you to know.”

Oh, Miss. Quiet bites back.

I tried not to gape at her. But her witty replies were such a turn on.

Wait what?

I shook my head and pulled on a determined face. “No worries. Just in case you change your mind, you can tell me next time.”

There would be a next time?

Hearing those words, she smiled. Genuinely smiled. “You might want to reconsider inviting your patients to your family dinners.” She said, but her amused expression betrayed the seriousness of that statement.

There would be a next time.

I frowned. “I am inviting you as my sister’s friend. Not my patient.”

“Your sister’s friend?” Her face fully turned to me—not just the eyes—with a lazy look, and momentarily, I felt my tongue going paralyzed in my mouth. So beautiful–

I blinked. “As our friend.”

She arched a brow at me, then slowly nodded. “Fair point.”

That's it? Speechless Maeve. Now, that was a first. A relieved smile set on my lips as we continue with the dinner.

After dinner, even before she could get up from her chair, Chloe dragged Maeve away from the table, shooting me a look over her shoulder.

Oh God, what is she going to ask Maeve?

Not like I had anything to hide. Did I? Maybe? Jesus, I needed to think straight.

Michael and Niall sat with Dad in the living room and started discussing about a golf match next week, which my dad happened to sponsor. He was a man of keen interest in outdoor sports, but could not indulge in any himself due to his weak heart which didn’t allow him to run as much as a mile without passing out.

Deciding I didn’t want to be involved into their conversation, I slipped down the hallway and climbed up the flight of stairs, toward the balcony. I needed some fresh air after sharing almost half an hour in such a close space with her.

And vanilla.

I inhaled deeply as I stepped into the quieter side of the house. Three floor-to-ceiling windows occupied most of the wall, with only the center one having an extended balcony. I walked in through the center window, the beige curtains swaying in the night breeze, brushing past my shoulders. It was so serene here than most of my tired, restless nights. No case study, or continuous patient calls. It was not like I hated my occupation, but sometimes, it was all too much.

I believed everyone needed an escape once in a while. But also, someone to escape to.

“I thought I’d find you here.” I didn’t need to turn around to recognize her voice. Footsteps softly padded toward me, then a hand slid across my shoulder and rested at my back. “Who is it?”

“Who is who?”

“The girl who has stolen your calm and left you so restless.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, please…”

“What? Is it not a girl?” She eyed me, then gasped. “Don’t tell me…” I turned my head and she was holding a palm across her mouth.

I frowned. “What?”

“Is it a boy? Are you gay?”

My mouth gaped open, and a little chuckle broke through her, making it clear that she was trying to pull my leg.

I sighed. “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m as straight as the first letter of my name.” In Times New Roman. Bold.

“Aw, my love,” She tucked her arms into the crook of mine, and rested her head against my shoulder, staring into the empty night sky like me. “It’s high time you get over your past, isn’t it?”

There was that word again. Past.

I hated how everyone tried to portray my present situations as the outcome of my past. There was a lot that I did in my past, out of which very few made me reconsider my decisions. And I was definitely not regretting my past right now. I was not regretting anything. Just confused.

"I saw you looking at her.” Mom patted my back reassuringly, as if that was supposed to be consoling.

“Who?” Though I knew who she was talking about, I had to feign disinterest.

Mom chuckled, most probably sensing my pretense. She straightened. “I’ve never interfered in your life, Ian. Personal nor professional. And I still won’t. But you have to…to...” Her voice came to a choked halt, compelling me to look at her.

Her eyes were focused somewhere behind me, looking distracted. Then slowly, her mouth gaped. Wider, and wider, until I was concerned her jaws would fall off.

My brows furrowed in confusion, as I turn around to follow her eyes.

And froze.

My breath hitched in my throat as I watched at the other end of the hall way, Chloe clinging to Michael’s neck, their mouths sealed together in a frenzied lip-lock. His arms were around her, and hers fisted against the side of his shirt. It was hard to figure who was kissing whom, but my fingers curled into a fist.

What. The. Fuck?

A sudden shock ran through my spine, up to the back of my head, and it wasn’t because of the couple, but a lingering figure at the end of the staircase.

Maeve took a step back, eyes strained on the pair upstairs, looking like she had seen her worst nightmare come true. Like she had just seen the rest of her life crumble down to bits before her. Betrayal and hurt and confusion and so much more flashed across her face that I couldn't grasp anymore.

Another step back, then another, and she turned around on her heels.

No, she is leaving.

I had no time to check on Chloe and Michael situation, or even pause at my mother’s call. Because something about the look on Maeve’s face was moving my legs into her direction on their own.

She wasn’t supposed to see it. Hell, it wasn’t supposed to happen. What the fuck was Chloe thinking?

“Maeve!” I rushed down the stairs, missing one or two steps in between. There was only the loud click clack of her heels stomping across the floor, towards the door, and my own shallow breaths reaching my ears.

Never underestimate women, because even in those heels, she was running faster than me.

“Maeve, what happened?” Niall’s voice was muffled as I ran past him, but he grabbed my hand.

“Niall, later–”

“No, tell me. What is it? What happened?” He tightened his grip on my arm and I opened my mouth to tell him, but what was I supposed to say? I did not know where to begin from. My chest heaved with ragged breaths, as if I didn’t just run down the stairs but a whole damn marathon, and when a loud thud resonated throughout the hall, my eyes switched to the door.

She was gone.