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“I don’t think so.” I put the next spoonful in my mouth. The soup warmed me from the inside out. The cold inside me that had taken hold regardless of the temperature outside vanished.

“Why did you run away in the summer?” I wanted to know.

Ruben furrowed his brow and shrugged. “Is that really important?”

Sighing, I put the spoon back and dabbed my mouth with the napkin.

“Yes. We’re here and . . . ”

He shrugged. “Can’t we forget what happened and look forward?”

He had lowered his head slightly and furrowed his dark eyebrows, which made him look frustrated and a bit angry. His long black eyelashes brushed against his white skin with every blink.

He had unbuttoned the blue shirt he was wearing so far that the light-colored shirt underneath was clearly visible. His chest rose and fell rapidly. The wool sweater he had draped over his shoulders, as if he didn’t know whether he was warm enough, reminded me of an embrace. Although I didn’t understand him. I wanted to hug him. His whole manner, whether he was worrying about me with food or challenging me stark naked, attracted me. But he wouldn’t let me get close to him.

I exhaled slowly and dragged my spoon through the soup. Or rather, the bowl I had eaten it from.

“Do you want some more? I could also bake some baguette, or what else do you usually eat your soup?” Ruben changed the subject.

I watched him. As soon as the conversation turned to food, he let down all his walls and blossomed. What did I actually know about him? Not that much. At first, I had thought he was another casual hookup. Although I had realized after the first night that things with him were much more complex., I hadn’t made the effort to get to know him better. Above all, I had thought I had much more time. Not that he would disappear without a trace after one week.

“No, thank you. The potato pieces in the soup are filling. And I wouldn’t have thought that a Michelin-star restaurant as the resort’s would serve star-shaped pasta,” I joked.

I lifted a spoonful of soup and poured it into my bowl.

Ruben ran his free hand over his face. “We don’t actually have any.” He laughed softly, his dark eyes sparkling behind his fingers. “I had to get them from our plongeur, Madeleine, our kitchen assistant. She lives with her daughter in the family apartments. If necessary, I would’ve had to serve it without noodles. But I’m glad I was able to add that special bling factor.”

We both laughed, and I didn’t know why, but I felt more cared for than I ever had by any lover before. I ladled more soup with one hand and held his fingers, which were still resting on the tabletop, with the other.

This kind of calm between us was new. Since I had arrived, there had been tension between us. I had watched him with yearning I couldn’t hide. We had avoided each other and sized each other up from a distance.

Our walk had initiated a change. But where would it lead us?

Would Ruben run away again if I asked more questions? Could I prevent him from running if I held his hand tight enough? I wanted to know what problem he had with me.

He moved his fingers under my hand, but he didn’t pull them away. My eyes drifted to his face, and I followed his gaze. He was staring at our intertwined hands.

“Maybe we can be real friends, without the baggage from the summer,” he muttered.

Friends? Not what I had in mind.

“Maybe,” I conceded. But maybe that’s not enough for me either.