The restaurant wasn't overly crowded, just busy enough for the low hum of conversations to feel like background music. Soft golden lighting made the polished tables glow, and the scent of roasted garlic and fresh bread drifted between them like an unspoken invitation.
Travis sat across from Alice, his jacket draped over the back of his chair. He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, watching her with the kind of attention that made her cheeks warm even though she told herself she was used to it by now.
"You're smiling too much," he teased, a faint smirk playing at his lips.
"I'm allowed to," Alice replied, cutting into her pasta. "You know, for once, I don't feel like I'm pretending."
His brow softened. "You've never been good at pretending. You were just… surviving."
She nodded slowly, the fork pausing mid-air. "Exactly. I used to wake up and wonder if I'd make it through the day. Now I just… wake up." Her smile widened. "And you're there."
