Something in her voice made him believe it completely.
Their food arrived.
Randi studied it for a second—calculating, adjusting—before reaching for it.
Brew watched the moment carefully, aware of how easily it could shift into something she didn’t want – something embarrassing. It was a big step for her to accept his invitation and chance to make a fool out of herself. He wouldn’t think of her in that way - never.
She picked up the sandwich with her left hand, steady but not entirely comfortable, adjusting her grip until it worked. It wasn’t perfect. But it was enough.
He wanted so much to say so but didn’t want to embarrass her, acknowledging her effort at working her fingers.It was a great sign.
She took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Then, she gazed at him.
“Well,” she said, “no flying chicken this time.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“I’m relieved.”
“That makes both of us.”
The humor lingered, easing something that had been tight between them.
“You’ve been on my mind,” he said before he could stop himself.
The words settled between them. Immediate and unavoidable. It was something his heart told him needed to be shared.
Randi stilled slightly, not pulling away or moving closer either. It was precautionary. Something she did often in situations like this. It was a measure of pause.
“That’s not something you’re supposed to say to a former patient,” she replied softly.
“Probably not.”
“And yet…”
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Just… full.
She leaned back slightly, studying him.
“You don’t seem like someone who does things he’s not supposed to do.”
“I don’t.”
“And this?”
He held her gaze.
“This is different.”
The honesty in it caught her off guard, again.
Randi looked down at her hand, then back at him.
“You don’t know what you’re stepping into,” she said quietly.
