The morning sun crept through the curtains, but Racheal hardly noticed. Her diary still lay on the bedside table, its pages heavy with ink and emotions she hadn't dared to say out loud. Sleep had been restless, filled with fragments of Declan's voice echoing in her mind.
By the time she finally dragged herself out of bed and prepared for class, her heart was still unsettled.
Just as she stepped out of the lecture hall later that day, a familiar voice called her name.
"Racheal!"
She turned, spotting Mia jogging toward her with her usual lively smile. The sight of her friend instantly softened Racheal's mood.
"I was hoping to catch you," Mia said, slightly out of breath but grinning wide. "Listen, my family's having dinner tonight, and I want you to come. No excuses this time."
Racheal blinked, startled. "Dinner? With your family?"
"Yes," Mia said brightly, looping her arm through hers. "My mom's been asking about you for weeks, and besides… my brother will be there too." She winked playfully.
Heat rushed to Racheal's cheeks at the mention of Declan, though she quickly looked away. "Mia, I don't think—"
"Nope!" Mia cut in, shaking her head firmly. "Don't even start with excuses. You've met them before in bits and pieces, but this time I want you to see the whole picture. My family's not scary, I promise."
Racheal hesitated. Her chest tightened at the thought of sitting across the table from Declan, pretending like her heart wasn't in complete turmoil. But Mia's hopeful expression made it hard to refuse.
"Fine," Racheal finally sighed. "But only because you won't stop pestering me."
Mia squealed and hugged her arm tighter. "That's the spirit! I'll text you the address. Be ready by seven."
As Mia skipped off, Racheal stood rooted to the spot, anxiety curling in her stomach. Dinner with Mia's family meant facing Declan again. And after last night, she wasn't sure if she was ready.
Yet part of her—some stubborn, fragile part—wanted to go.
................
That evening, dressed neatly in a pale blue blouse and dark jeans, Racheal stood in front of the Garcia family home. Warm golden lights spilled out through the windows, contrasting with the storm in her chest. She smoothed her sleeves for what felt like the tenth time before finally raising her hand to knock.
The door opened, and there he was. Declan.
His eyes flickered with surprise, then something softer. "You came."
Racheal swallowed hard, her voice unsteady. "Mia invited me."
Declan's lips curved into a faint smile. "And you accepted."
Before she could answer, Mia appeared behind him, all energy and excitement. "There you are! Come on, dinner's waiting!" She grabbed Racheal's hand and tugged her inside.
The house was warm and welcoming, with the comforting aroma of roasted chicken and spices filling the air. Framed family photos lined the walls, laughter echoing faintly from the dining room.
"Mom!" Mia called. "She's here!"
A gentle-looking woman emerged from the kitchen, her smile kind and her apron dusted with flour. "So this is the famous Racheal," she said warmly, wiping her hands before pulling Racheal into a light embrace. "Mia talks about you all the time. You're very welcome here, dear."
"Thank you, ma'am," Racheal said softly, touched by the woman's warmth.
They all moved into the dining room, where the table was already set. To Racheal's surprise, Gideon—Declan's friend—was lounging in a chair, grinning like he owned the place.
"Well, well," Gideon teased as Racheal sat down. "Look who finally decided to join family night. I was beginning to think you were avoiding us. Or maybe…" his gaze flicked to Declan with mischief, "…avoiding someone in particular."
Racheal nearly choked on her water. "I—I'm not avoiding anyone," she stammered quickly.
Declan shot Gideon a sharp look. "Don't start."
But Gideon only chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, man. I'm just saying it's nice to finally see you two in the same room without her bolting out the door."
Mia rolled her eyes, smacking Gideon's arm. "Ignore him, Racheal. He lives to tease people."
Dinner began, filled with light chatter. Mia's mom asked about school, Mia kept the conversation lively, and Gideon never missed an opportunity to throw in sly comments that made Racheal blush and Declan scowl.
But in between the teasing and laughter, there were quiet moments too—like when Racheal glanced up to find Declan watching her, his gaze steady but unreadable. Or when his hand brushed against hers as he passed the salt, and a strange spark shot through her veins.
By the time dessert was served, Racheal's nervousness had softened into something else. Something warmer.
For the first time, she felt like she wasn't standing on the outside looking in. She was part of something—this family, this table, this moment.
And deep down, that scared her most of all.