The first thing Mara Ellis noticed about her blind date was that he had checked his watch four times in eleven minutes.
“And now?”
“Now you’re talking to Julian Moretti.”
Mara hated that he was right.
She reached across the table, picked up his mask and held it out.
“Put it back on.”
Julian stared at her.
“What?”
“Put it back on.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian Moretti is making dinner weird. The masked stranger hates truffles and has terrible taste in movies. I liked that guy.”
“You liked the movie.”
“Completely irrelevant.”
He looked at the mask.
Then at her.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
Julian took it.
Slowly, the most intimidating man in the restaurant put his mask back on because a woman he had known less than two hours told him to.
Mara immediately replaced hers.
She settled into her chair.
“Better.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
“Everyone already knows who we are.”
“I don’t care about everyone.”
Julian went still.
Mara realized what she had said and cleared her throat.
“I mean…”
“I know what you meant.”
“Good.”
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
She pointed at him.
“Three useless questions.”
“We already did three.”
“New round.”
“Why?”
“Because I just discovered my blind date may be one of the most dangerous men in Chicago, allegedly, and I haven’t decided whether that ruins dinner.”
Julian leaned forward.
“So the questions decide?”
“No.”
She smiled beneath the mask.
“They decide whether you get another twenty minutes.”
His phone buzzed.
Neither of them looked at it.
Julian said one word.
“Ask.”
By the time the restaurant began dimming its lights, Mara knew Julian Moretti could cook exactly four meals, hated pigeons for reasons he refused to explain, had broken his wrist at thirteen after jumping from a garage roof, and knew every word to “Careless Whisper.”
That last revelation nearly destroyed him.
“You threatened me into answering.”
“You agreed to useless questions.”
“This information is not useful.”
“Future blackmail.”
“You’re threatening me with George Michael.”
Mara grinned.
“Are you frightened?”
Julian considered it.
“Possibly the safest threat I’ve received.”
She laughed.
He checked the time.
Then checked it again.
His body went still.
Mara followed his gaze.
11:43 p.m.
She slowly smiled.
“What?”
“I was supposed to leave at 8:20.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“You allocated twenty minutes to me.”
“I allocate time for everything.”
“Breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Exercise?”
“Yes.”
“Phone calls?”
“Yes.”
“Fun?”
Julian opened his mouth.
Stopped.
Mara’s smile widened.
“That explains your face.”
“My face?”
“Very efficient.”
Outside, the black sedan waited.
Julian opened the rear door.
Mara stopped.
“Are you trying to put me inside a mafia car?”
“It’s a sedan.”
“That’s exactly what a mafia car would want me to think.”
“I’ll have Daniel drive you home.”
“I can call a cab.”
“It’s late.”
“I’ve survived late before.”
“I know.”
Something in his tone made her look at him.
He wasn’t commanding her.
He was concerned.
That was harder to resist.
She pointed at him.
“No mysterious detours.”
“Agreed.”
“No warehouses.”
“I had no warehouses scheduled.”
“No making me disappear.”
Julian looked at her.
“That would make a second date difficult.”
Mara froze.
“Was that you asking?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m going to ask properly.”
He took out his phone.
Mara stared.
“You are standing directly in front of me.”
“I’m aware.”
Her phone buzzed inside her purse.
She looked down.
Julian Moretti: Do you have twenty minutes tomorrow?
Mara looked up.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Is that a no?”
She typed.
His phone buzzed.
Julian smiled.
The next afternoon, Mara arrived at a small coffee shop expecting bodyguards.
She found none.
At least none she could identify.
Julian sat near the window wearing dark trousers and a black sweater instead of a suit.
Mara stopped beside the table.
“Who are you?”
“Julian.”
“Suspicious.”
He pushed a coffee toward her.
She looked at it.
“You ordered for me?”
“You complained about the restaurant coffee for six minutes.”
“It was terrible.”
“You said two sugars.”
Mara sat.
Took a sip.
Perfect.
Annoying.
She checked her watch.
“Seventeen minutes.”
Julian nodded.
“Understood.”
They talked about nothing useful.
A terrible movie sequel.
People who stopped in doorways.
Why restaurants served food on pieces of wood instead of plates.
At minute sixteen, Mara checked her watch.
Julian noticed.
“Time?”
“Yes.”
She stood.
He looked surprised.
“You’re actually leaving.”
“You gave me seventeen minutes.”
“You gave me seventeen.”
“Exactly.”
Mara put on her coat.
“Apparently I’m better at schedules.”
She reached the door.
Then turned.
“Tomorrow?”
Something changed in his face.
“Twenty minutes?”
“Don’t get greedy.”
The next twenty-minute coffee lasted seventy-four minutes.
A twenty-minute walk beside the river lasted almost an hour.
A twenty-minute lunch ended with Mara realizing she had missed the beginning of a book delivery.
Julian followed her to Ellis & Paige Books, the independent bookstore she owned with her friend Paige.
The shop was small, warm and chronically overcrowded.
Books filled shelves, windows, tables and occasionally chairs customers might otherwise have used.
Julian looked around.
Mara watched him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You have your judging face.”
“I have a judging face?”
“Several.”
He pointed toward a display leaning noticeably left.
“That is going to fall.”
“It’s artistic.”
“It’s unstable.”
“Art often is.”
Julian removed his coat.
Mara frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing it.”
“No. It has personality.”
“It has gravity.”
He touched the display.
Three books fell.
Then six.
Then an entire upper row collapsed.
A customer quietly stepped away.
Mara folded her arms.
Julian stared at the wreckage.
She nodded sympathetically.
“The most feared man in Chicago has been defeated by historical fiction.”
“I barely touched it.”
“I built it.”
Julian immediately crouched.
“Then I withdraw my criticism.”
“Too late.”
He started gathering books.
Mara joined him.
“You’re terrible at normal jobs.”
“I have other skills.”
She looked at him.
“That sounded illegal.”
“Allegedly.”
Mara laughed so hard she had to sit on the floor.
Julian looked at her.
Then laughed too.
For one strange, perfect minute, there was no frightened manager, no black sedan, no whispered surname.
Only Julian holding a biography upside down.
Mara reached over and turned it.
“Books usually work better this way.”
“I knew that.”
Their hands touched.
Neither moved.
The laughter faded.
Julian looked at her.
Mara felt the moment change.
Warm.
Quiet.
Dangerously easy.
She pulled her hand back.
“You should probably go.”
The words came too quickly.
Julian noticed.
He always noticed.
Still, he stood.
“Tomorrow?”
Mara smiled.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Fine.”
He reached the door.
“Mara.”
“Yes?”
He looked at the demolished display.
Then at her.
“We both know it’ll be longer.”
She smiled despite herself.
“Probably.”
He left.
Mara watched him disappear down the sidewalk.
Then she looked at the clock.
Almost two hours.
Her smile faded slightly.
She had spent years becoming very good at endings.
She could feel them before they arrived.
A delayed reply.
A canceled plan.
A man who once touched her constantly suddenly keeping both hands around his coffee.
A boyfriend saying “busy week” instead of “Friday at seven.”
She knew how affection cooled by degrees.
So Mara had developed a system.
Leave first.
End the call first.
Make the joke first.
Say, “You should go,” before anyone had the opportunity to announce they wanted to.
Twenty minutes was safe.
Nobody could abandon you in twenty minutes.
But that Thursday, a twenty-minute takeout dinner ended with Julian sitting on the floor of her bookstore at 10:30 p.m.
Between them was an open pizza box.
Around them sat stacks Mara had promised to inventory.
Very little inventory had occurred.
Julian held up a romance paperback.
“This is terrible.”
“You read twelve pages.”
“Eleven were enough.”
“You skipped the dedication.”
“Was the plot hidden there?”
“No.”
“Then eleven were enough.”
Mara snatched the book from him.
“It’s romance.”
“It’s a hostage situation.”
“They’re in love.”
“They’ve spoken four times.”
“Chemistry.”
“He stole her horse.”
“Passion.”
“He lied about his identity.”
Mara stopped.
Slowly, she looked at him.
Julian realized his mistake.
“Interesting criticism,” she said, “from a man who concealed his identity on our first date.”
“You were wearing a mask too.”
“I wasn’t secretly Julian Moretti.”
“Neither was I.”
She stared.
He almost smiled.
“Technically.”
Mara threw a napkin.
Julian caught it.
“Violence.”
“Allegedly.”
He laughed.
And there it was again.
That laugh.
Mara liked causing it far too much.
She looked at the clock.
10:37.
“You should probably go.”
Julian looked up.
“Why?”
“It’s late.”
“Yes.”
“You have work tomorrow.”
“So do you.”
“I open at eight.”
“I have a meeting at seven.”
“Exactly.”
Julian put down the book.
But he didn’t stand.
Mara frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is clearly something.”
He reached for another slice of pizza.
Mara stared.
“Did you miss the part where I politely released you back into society?”
“I heard it.”
“And?”
“I don’t want to go yet.”
Something warm entered her chest.
Her body reacted before her mind could stop it.
She stood.
“Well, I’m cleaning.”
Julian watched her gather napkins that did not need gathering.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
“Bossy.”
“Please sit down.”
“Worse. Now you’re polite and bossy.”
He waited.
She sighed and sat.
He handed her the last slice of pizza.
She looked at it.
“You wanted this.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
“You’ve been staring at it for four minutes.”
“I was evaluating structural integrity.”
Julian nodded solemnly.
“Of course.”
They ate quietly.
That was another thing she liked.
Julian didn’t fear silence.
He didn’t reach for his phone every thirty seconds.
He didn’t manufacture conversation because stillness made him insecure.
Silence beside him felt occupied.
When Mara finished, she realized he was watching her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You do that a lot.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me.”
Julian’s expression barely changed.
“I like looking at you.”
Mara forgot the joke she had prepared.
“That’s inconvenient.”
“Why?”
“I had something funny to say.”
“Say it.”
“It’s gone.”
“Tragic.”
She looked at him.
He seemed closer.
Or maybe she had moved.
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
Her heartbeat changed.
Julian lifted one hand slowly.
Slow enough for her to stop him.
She didn’t.
His fingers brushed a curl from her cheek.
Mara stopped breathing.
He leaned closer.
And panic arrived.
Not fear of him.
Something much worse.
Hope.
She stood abruptly.
“You should go.”
Julian didn’t move.
The moment shattered.
Mara walked toward the counter.
“I need to finish inventory.”
Silence.
Then Julian said, “You’re doing it again.”
She stopped.
“Doing what?”
“Telling me to leave.”
“I told you it’s late.”
“Last Sunday it was because I had an early meeting.”
“You did.”
“Tuesday my driver was waiting.”
“He was.”
“Yesterday I looked tired.”
“You did.”
Julian stood.
“And tonight you have work.”
“So do you.”
“We established that.”
He came closer.
Not threatening.
Not crowding.
Simply close enough that pretending became difficult.
“Why do you keep telling me to leave?”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I’m considerate.”
“I didn’t ask you to be.”
Mara frowned.
“That’s rude.”
“It’s honest.”
“You can’t stay forever.”
The sentence escaped before she could catch it.
Julian went quiet.
Mara stared at the books.
There it was.
The real thing.
His voice softened.
“No.”
Her throat tightened.
“I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
“But that isn’t what we’re talking about.”
“It is to me.”
He waited.
Mara hated that.
Most people rescued her from uncomfortable silences.
Julian let silence demand an answer.
She lasted twelve seconds.
“I don’t like goodbyes.”
“Most people don’t.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t like waiting for them.”
Julian said nothing.
Mara looked down.
“It’s easier when I know exactly when something ends.”
“Twenty minutes.”
She looked at him.
He understood.
Of course he did.
She gave a weak laugh.
“Twenty minutes is excellent.”
“Why?”
“You know what you’re getting. You know when it’s over.”
Julian’s expression changed.
“Who left?”
Mara stiffened.
“That is not a useless question.”
“No.”
“I’m not answering.”
“All right.”
She blinked.
“That’s it?”
“You said you’re not answering.”
“You’re terrible at dramatic interrogation.”
“I’ll practice.”
A small smile betrayed her.
Then disappeared.
“It wasn’t one person,” she finally said.
Julian remained silent.
“Just enough people.”
Her voice softened.
“Enough dates where you can feel somebody becoming disappointed. Enough men who acted surprised that I was actually the size I looked in my photos. Enough relationships where plans became less frequent. Messages became shorter. ‘Good night’ came earlier. ‘Friday’ became ‘maybe Friday.’ Then ‘maybe’ became silence.”
She swallowed.
“So I learned how to leave first.”
“That doesn’t sound pathetic.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You were thinking it.”
Mara looked at him.
“You’re irritating.”
“I’ve heard.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You’re honest about everything that doesn’t matter.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll tell me my favorite movie is terrible.”
“It is.”
“You’ll tell me my tie makes me look like a funeral director.”
“It did.”
“You’ll tell me exactly how bad restaurant coffee is.”
“It was criminal.”
“But when you actually want something…”
He paused.
“You open the door.”
Mara’s throat tightened.
“That’s very poetic for someone who called a romance novel a hostage situation.”
“I contain contradictions.”
“Apparently.”
Julian glanced at the front door.
Then back at her.
“If you want me to leave, say it.”
“I already did.”
“No. You said I should leave.”
“Same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
Mara stared at him.
Julian spoke calmly.
“Say, ‘Julian, I want you to leave.’”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
His face softened.
Mara became angry because anger was easier.
“This is manipulative.”
“Possibly.”
“You look like you’re enjoying it.”
“This is just my face.”
“Your face is extremely irritating.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She almost laughed.
He didn’t let her hide inside it.
“If you want me gone, I’ll go. But I want it to be your decision.”
Mara looked at him.
Not his schedule.
Not his driver.
Not tomorrow’s meeting.
Hers.
“And if I don’t want you to go?”
“Then say that.”
“You make everything sound simple.”
“It isn’t.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because if this is difficult for both of us, I feel less ridiculous.”
Julian smiled.
“It is.”
For one second she considered the door.
Then she looked at him.
No masks.
No excuses.
“Stay.”
He didn’t move.
She frowned.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
“I wanted to know if you meant it.”
Her pulse jumped.
“I want you to stay.”
Something in him softened.
“How long?”
Mara gave him a nervous smile.
“Let’s not become reckless. Twenty minutes.”
“Only twenty?”
“Start there.”
Julian reached toward her.
Then stopped.
His hand remained suspended between them.
Another choice.
Mara looked at it.
Then placed her hand in his.
And pulled him closer.
This time, when Julian kissed her, Mara did not open the door.
Three weeks later, Julian canceled dinner.
Mara was closing the bookstore when her phone rang.
She smiled before she saw his name.
The fact that she smiled annoyed her.
“You’re early.”
Julian was silent for half a second.
“I need to cancel tonight.”
The smile vanished.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No problem.”
“Mara.”
“It’s fine.”
“It isn’t.”
She straightened a perfectly straight stack of novels.
“You have things to do.”
“Something came up that I can’t move.”
“Julian, seriously. It’s fine.”
He went quiet.
She hated his silences now because he had taught her to hear herself inside them.
“I can come tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Sure.”
Another silence.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“You’re doing something.”
“I’m organizing.”
“Not the books.”
Her hand stopped.
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“You don’t have to do that either.”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“I want to.”
Mara closed her eyes.
“Okay.”
They hung up.
Nothing had happened.
One canceled dinner.
Julian had called.
He had apologized.
He had explained.
He had suggested tomorrow.
A reasonable woman would have gone home, eaten leftovers and watched television.
Mara’s brain spent the next three hours reopening every graveyard it could find.
One canceled dinner.
Then another.
A reply after three hours instead of three minutes.
A weekend that became “crazy.”
A man saying, “I’m just dealing with a lot right now.”
Tomorrow.
Next week.
Soon.
Maybe.
Silence.
At 9:32, Julian texted.
Still awake?
Mara stared at the screen.
Yes.
Can I call?
She typed, You don’t have to.
Deleted it.
Typed, Fine.
Deleted that too.
Finally she wrote, I’m tired. Tomorrow.
His response came immediately.
Of course. Sleep well.
That should have reassured her.
It didn’t.
The next evening, Julian appeared at the bookstore at six carrying a paper bag.
Mara was helping a customer.
He waited quietly near the history section until she finished.
When the door closed behind the customer, Mara looked at him.
“You didn’t say you were coming.”
“You said tomorrow.”
“I didn’t mean literally.”
“I did.”
He lifted the bag.
“Dinner.”
Mara looked at it.
“You didn’t need to bring anything.”
Julian slowly lowered the bag.
Recognition crossed his face.
Not anger.
Recognition.
“All right.”
Mara turned toward the register.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Normally she would have laughed.
She didn’t.
Julian became still.
“We probably shouldn’t keep doing this.”
Silence.
Mara had expected a question.
He gave her one eventually.
“Why?”
“You’re busy.”
“Yes.”
“This started as one blind date.”
“One blind date that became several dates.”
“Exactly.”
Julian placed the bag on the counter.
“So what was it?”
Mara forced a smile.
“Fun.”
“Fun.”
“Yes.”
“That’s all?”
She hated the question.
“It can be enough.”
“For you?”
Mara crossed her arms.
“Why are you making this difficult?”
“I’m asking questions.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
His voice stayed calm.
“I don’t.”
Mara looked away.
Julian waited.
She wished he would become angry.
She knew how to leave angry men.
Calm men were dangerous.
They made you answer yourself.
“Is this because I canceled dinner?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then why today?”
“Timing.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“You’re interrogating me.”
“You’ve accused me of that before.”
“And you’re still terrible at it.”
“Apparently.”
She nearly smiled.
Julian noticed.
“Why are you trying so hard not to enjoy me being here?”
Her expression tightened.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Silence.
Mara immediately regretted it.
She inhaled.
“I like you.”
“I know.”
“That’s arrogant.”
“You kissed me.”
“Once.”
“Four times.”
She stared.
“You counted?”
“Apparently I schedule kisses now.”
Despite herself, Mara laughed.
Only once.
Then fear returned.
“I like you too much.”
All humor left Julian’s face.
“And yesterday you canceled.”
“Yes.”
“I know you had a reason.”
“I did.”
“I know.”
“Then what are we doing?”
Mara pressed her lips together.
Julian waited.
Finally she said the sentence that had been poisoning her thoughts since the phone call.
“I know how this goes.”
“How what goes?”
“This.”
She gestured between them.
“At first somebody wants twenty minutes.”
“That was me.”
“Then they want hours.”
“Also me.”
“And then suddenly they’re busy.”
Julian understood.
She saw the realization happen.
He stepped closer.
“I canceled once.”
“I know.”
“I called you.”
“I know.”
“I asked to see you today.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you ending something I haven’t ended?”
Mara had no answer.
Julian looked at her for a long moment.
Then said quietly, “You keep leaving before anyone can choose to stay.”
The words struck exactly where she had protected herself.
“That’s unfair.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“You told me to leave every time you wanted me closest.”
“That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Then tell me.”
Mara opened her mouth.
Nothing.
Julian nodded slightly.
There it was.
The silence where her truth should have been.
He glanced toward the door.
“Do you want me to leave?”
Her throat tightened.
The last time he asked, she had eventually said stay.
Tonight, fear was louder.
“This isn’t about tonight.”
“It is for me.”
He looked directly at her.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“You should.”
Julian exhaled.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Disappointed.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Julian…”
“If you want me gone, say it.”
Her eyes burned.
“You can’t promise this will work.”
“I haven’t.”
“You can’t promise you’ll always want to stay.”
“I haven’t done that either.”
“Then what are you offering?”
His answer came immediately.
“Today.”
Mara stared.
“Today?”
“Today I came here.”
He indicated the bag.
“Today I brought dinner. Today I want to stay.”
“And tomorrow?”
“I’ll decide tomorrow.”
Pain flashed across her face.
Julian continued.
“So will you.”
She stared at him.
It was not the romantic answer.
Not forever.
Not some impossible promise that he would never disappoint her, never change, never leave.
That was why it terrified her.
It was real.
Julian stepped back.
“I won’t spend every day proving that yesterday wasn’t secretly the beginning of the end.”
Mara’s eyes filled.
“And I won’t ask you to stay with me because you’re afraid I’ll leave.”
His voice softened.
“If you choose me, choose me.”
She blinked rapidly.
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll respect it.”
That hurt most.
Because Mara had spent years believing love meant convincing someone not to leave.
Julian was giving her something harder.
A door unlocked from both sides.
He picked up his coat.
Mara’s pulse exploded.
Here it was.
The moment she normally controlled.
The goodbye.
The doorway.
His hand touched the handle.
“Julian.”
He turned.
Mara opened her mouth.
Stay.
The word reached her throat.
Fear strangled it.
She looked at him.
He waited.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Julian held her gaze.
“So am I.”
Then he left.
The bell above the door rang once.
Mara stood motionless.
For the first time, saying “You should go” had not made her feel safe.
It had made the bookstore feel enormous and empty.
She looked at the paper bag of untouched dinner.
Then at the door.
Julian did not return.
He did not call that night.
He did not send dramatic messages.
He did not demand another chance.
He did not show up in the rain.
He did exactly what she had asked him to do.
For two days, Mara told herself that proved she had been right.
On the third morning, even she became tired of hearing the lie.
Around noon, she picked up her phone.
Put it down.
Picked it up again.
Twenty minutes later, she was still staring at Julian’s name.
Mara laughed bitterly.
“Very brave.”
Then pressed call.
He answered on the second ring.
“Mara.”
Just her name.
No accusation.
No anger.
That somehow made everything harder.
“Are you busy?”
“Yes.”
Her old instinct came immediately.
“Never mind. Sorry. I’ll call—”
She stopped herself.
Closed her eyes.
For once, she did not open the door.
“I want to see you.”
Silence.
Her heart pounded.
Finally Julian spoke.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Mara looked at the black mask sitting beside the register.
She had taken it home after their first date.
“The restaurant.”
He understood.
“What time?”
“Eight.”
“I’ll be there.”
Mara arrived first.
Same restaurant.
Same table.
No mask.
Julian entered six minutes later.
The room noticed him.
Mara barely did.
She was too busy noticing the black mask in his hand.
He sat across from her.
Neither spoke.
Then Mara looked through the window.
The black sedan waited at the curb.
Engine running.
She almost laughed.
“You kept the car running.”
“Old habit.”
“Planning an escape?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“You.”
Julian placed his mask on the table.
Mara placed hers beside it.
Two black masks.
Neither reached for one.
“You wanted to see me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mara inhaled.
She had practiced this conversation twelve times.
Every version had sounded intelligent.
None survived his face.
“I was wrong.”
Julian waited.
She frowned.
“You could help.”
“You called me.”
“Right.”
Mara straightened.
“I thought if I ended things first, I’d feel better.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Good?”
“You wanted honesty.”
“You’re enjoying this slightly.”
His mouth moved.
Mara looked down at her mask.
“You were right. I keep deciding things for other people.”
Julian said nothing.
“I decide they’ll leave.”
Her fingers traced the edge of the mask.
“So I leave for them.”
She looked at him.
“I did that to you.”
“Yes.”
“And you left.”
“You asked me to.”
“I know.”
Mara gave a shaky laugh.
“That was extremely inconvenient.”
“I considered ignoring you.”
Her eyes lifted.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because then staying wouldn’t mean anything.”
Mara became still.
Julian leaned back.
“You needed to decide whether you wanted me here.”
“Without you convincing me?”
“Yes.”
“Without chasing me?”
“Yes.”
“Without appearing dramatically outside my apartment in the rain?”
Julian frowned.
“It didn’t rain.”
“You are terrible at romance.”
“You came back.”
“Unfortunately.”
His mouth curved.
Mara breathed easier.
Then she glanced at the waiting sedan.
“How long do I have?”
Julian’s smile disappeared.
He understood the question.
Their first night.
Twenty minutes.
Engine running.
Escape planned.
“That depends on what you want.”
Three days ago, Mara had been unable to say it.
Tonight there was no bookstore counter.
No joke.
No mask.
“I want you to stay.”
Julian remained motionless.
Mara gave a nervous laugh.
“You seriously need to stop making me repeat difficult things.”
“How long?”
She met his eyes.
“Longer than twenty minutes.”
Julian reached for his phone.
Mara’s face fell.
“Seriously?”
He typed.
“That is incredibly rude timing.”
Then placed his phone facedown.
Outside, the sedan’s headlights switched off.
A few seconds later, the engine stopped.
Mara stared through the window.
Then at Julian.
“You told him to turn off the car.”
“Yes.”
“What about your schedule?”
Julian shook his head.
“I changed it.”
“For me?”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“For myself.”
He reached across the table.
Mara placed her hand in his.
“For a long time,” Julian said, “I knew exactly when I was arriving and exactly when I was leaving.”
His fingers closed around hers.
“Then I met a woman who gave me seventeen minutes.”
“Very generous woman.”
“Terrifying.”
“Careful.”
“She threatened me with George Michael.”
Mara laughed.
Julian smiled.
Then his expression softened.
“I don’t want to know when this ends.”
Her laughter disappeared.
He squeezed her hand.
“I just want to be here while it’s happening.”
Her eyes filled.
She immediately pointed at him.
“That was suspiciously romantic.”
“I’ve watched Love at Second Sight seven times.”
“Nine.”
“Seven.”
“You’re lying.”
“My attorney advised me to.”
Mara laughed through tears.
Julian stood and came around the table.
She looked up.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
He offered his hand.
She took it.
He pulled her gently to her feet.
Mara glanced at the two masks.
“I don’t think we need those anymore.”
“No.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why unfortunately?”
“You were easier to insult when I couldn’t see your face.”
“You still insult me efficiently.”
Julian touched her cheek.
Mara leaned into his palm.
Then kissed him.
No countdown.
No waiting driver.
No planned exit.
No promises about forever.
Just tonight.
And the possibility of tomorrow.
Months later, Julian stood inside Ellis & Paige Books holding a box of new arrivals.
Correctly.
He had improved.
Slightly.
Mara turned the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.
“Those go on the center shelf.”
Julian looked toward it.
“The unstable one?”
“It has personality.”
“It remains structurally irresponsible.”
“Don’t start.”
He carried the box across the shop.
His phone buzzed.
Julian checked it.
Mara watched him.
“Work?”
“Yes.”
“You should go.”
The sentence escaped automatically.
Julian looked at her.
Mara froze.
For one second, the old instinct stood between them.
Then she smiled.
“No.”
She walked toward him.
“That isn’t what I mean.”
Julian waited.
Mara wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I want you to stay.”
His hands settled around her waist.
“How long?”
Mara pretended to consider it.
“Twenty minutes.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
She kissed him.
Then whispered against his mouth.
“And after that, we can choose another twenty.”
Outside, no black car waited with its engine running.
Inside, the two masks from their first date rested in a small wooden box beneath the register.
Mara kept them not because she missed hiding.
She kept them because they reminded her of something she had spent most of her life misunderstanding.
Love was not finding someone who could promise never to leave.
No one could promise that.
Love was not holding the door open before the other person reached it, pretending rejection hurt less when you performed it yourself.
It was not shrinking your needs until abandonment became impossible.
And it certainly was not being chosen once and assuming the choice would last forever without care.
Sometimes love was far less dramatic.
It was a man turning off the waiting car.
A woman saying stay when every old instinct told her to say go.
An apology without humiliation.
A boundary without punishment.
Dinner brought after disappointment.
Another conversation when silence would have been easier.
Choosing someone today without stealing tomorrow’s choice from them.
Mara had once believed twenty minutes protected her from endings.
Julian had once believed schedules protected him from chaos.
Neither had been entirely wrong.
They had simply mistaken control for safety.
Now, when Julian’s phone buzzed again, he reached into his pocket and switched it off.
Mara noticed.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“You might actually need to answer.”
“I might.”
She smiled.
“So responsible.”
“I’m growing.”
“Slowly.”
“Painfully.”
Mara rested her head against his chest.
For a while, neither spoke.
The bookstore settled around them.
The old pipes clicked.
A bus passed outside.
Somewhere in the building, a book slipped sideways on an overloaded shelf.
Julian looked toward the sound.
Mara tightened her arms.
“Don’t.”
“That shelf is unstable.”
“It has personality.”
“Mara.”
“Twenty minutes.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
And for once, Julian Moretti did not look at his watch.
Neither did she.
Because staying no longer felt like waiting to be abandoned.
It felt like what it had always been supposed to be.
A choice.
Made freely.
Repeated honestly.
Twenty minutes at a time.
THE END
