Sunday morning, Ayana's phone buzzed at 6 AM.
Nelson: We need to be more careful. Last night was too close.
She stared at the text, her chest tight. Typed back: I know. I'm sorry.
Nelson: Don't apologize. Just... we can't do that again. Not at the centre. Not anywhere public.
Ayana: Then where?
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally: I don't know. But I'm not giving you up.
She smiled despite the anxiety curling in her stomach. Good. Because I'm not going anywhere.
Nelson: Your father just invited me to Sunday dinner. After church.
Ayana: Can you handle it?
Nelson: I have to. Saying no would raise questions.
Ayana: Then I'll see you there. And Nelson?
Nelson: Yes?
Ayana: I love you.
The response took longer this time. When it came, it made her heart ache: I love you too. God help us both.
---
Church was agony.
Ayana sat in the family pew, hyperaware of Nelson three rows back. She could feel his gaze on her during hymns, during prayers, during her father's sermon about honesty and integrity. The irony wasn't lost on either of them.
After service, during the coffee social, Raven materialized beside Ayana with predatory grace.
"Beautiful service," Raven said, smiling. "Your father really has a gift for speaking to people's consciences."
"He does."
"Must be hard, though. Being the pastor's daughter. Everyone is watching, expecting perfection." Raven sipped her coffee. "I imagine you feel a lot of pressure to maintain appearances."
"I'm used to it."
"Of course. Though I noticed you seemed... distracted last night. At the fundraiser. Disappeared for a bit during the evening." Raven's eyes were sharp, calculating. "Everything okay?"
Ayana's pulse jumped. "Just needed some air. Crowds aren't really my thing."
"Mm. Nelson seemed distracted, too. Actually, now that I think about it, you both disappeared around the same time." Raven laughed lightly. "Funny coincidence."
"Hilarious." Ayana kept her voice steady. "If you'll excuse me, my mother needs help with something."
She walked away, feeling Raven's eyes drilling into her back.
Catherine caught up to her in the kitchen. "What did Raven want?"
"To let me know she's watching."
"Shit." Catherine glanced toward the door. "Ana, this is getting dangerous. Maybe you and Nelson should cool it for a while."
"We can't." The words came out more desperate than intended. "Cat, I love him. Really love him. And he loves me. We're trying to be careful, but—"
"But you're terrible at it," Catherine finished. "The way you two look at each other? Everyone's going to figure it out eventually."
"Then we'll deal with it."
"Will you?" Her sister's expression turned serious. "Because when Dad finds out, it's going to break him. And Mom will never forgive you. And the church will crucify you both."
"I know." Ayana's voice cracked. "I know all of that. But Cat, what am I supposed to do? Stop loving him? Pretend this isn't real?"
Catherine pulled her into a hug. "No. I'm just saying be ready. Because the fallout's going to be nuclear."
---
At Dinner
Nelson sat across from Ayana, maintaining perfect composure while her father discussed church business. Her mother served pot roast, and Catherine made meaningful eye contact that screamed. Be careful.
"So, Nelson," her mother said, refilling wine glasses. "Any prospects on the romantic front? It's been so long since Sarah. Surely you've considered dating again?"
Nelson's fork paused midair. "I've been focused on my work."
"Work isn't everything. You need companionship. Someone to share your life with." Her mother's gaze slid meaningfully to Ayana. "Perhaps someone who shares your values. Someone from the community who understands your dedication."
Ayana's stomach dropped. Was her mother... matchmaking?
"Mom," she said carefully. "I don't think—"
"What? I'm simply saying Nelson deserves happiness. And you're both single, both dedicated to service work." Her mother smiled innocently. "You'd make a lovely couple."
The silence was deafening. Nelson's knuckles were white around his fork. Her father looked confused. Catherine looked like she might burst.
"Lorraine," her father said gently. "Nelson's old enough to be Ayana's father. I don't think—"
"Age is just a number when it comes to compatible values," her mother countered. "Isn't that right, Nelson? You see potential where others see obstacles."
Nelson's eyes met Ayana's across the table—desperate, terrified, wanting.
"I think," he said carefully, "that Ayana deserves someone her own age. Someone without my... complications."
"Nonsense. You're a catch. Any woman would be lucky to have you." Her mother turned to Ayana. "Don't you think so, dear?"
Every eye at the table turned to her. Catherine's were pleading. Her fathers were curious. Her mother's were testing. And Nelson's—Nelson's were breaking.
"I think," Ayana said slowly, "that Nelson deserves to choose his own path. Without pressure from well-meaning friends."
"Well said," her father agreed, oblivious. "Now, Nelson, tell me about the board's decision on the expansion proposal."
The conversation shifted. But under the table, Ayana felt something brush her foot—Nelson's, deliberate, desperate. A silent acknowledgement of the insanity, the impossibility, the unbearable tension of pretending they were nothing while being everything.
She pressed back. Heard his sharp inhale across the table.
They held that contact throughout dessert, that tiny rebellion, that secret connection while discussing budgets and programs and community plans.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
But it was all they had.
---
After dinner, Nelson helped clear dishes—a transparent excuse to get moments near her. In the kitchen, with her mother distracted by coffee preparations, he whispered, "Tomorrow. My place. Eight o'clock. We need to talk about what happens next."
"Okay."
"And Ayana?" His voice dropped lower. "Be careful. Raven's suspicious. Your mother's playing matchmaker without knowing she already won. We're running out of time to control this narrative."
"I know."
"But I'm not giving you up." His hand brushed hers over the dish towel. "Whatever happens, remember that."
"I will."
They separated before her mother turned around. But the touch lingered, electric and dangerous and worth every risk.
---
That night, lying in bed, Ayana's phone buzzed.
Sara: Coffee tomorrow? Haven't seen you properly since you got back.
She hesitated, then typed: Sure. Morning?
Sara: Perfect. Miller's Diner. 10 AM.
Another text came through. Nelson: Can't sleep. Keep thinking about you across that table. Your mother has no idea how right she is.
Ayana smiled. Or how complicated.
Nelson: Come here. Now. I need to hold you.
Ayana: I can't. My parents would hear me leave.
Nelson: Then I'll spend another night awake, wanting you.
Ayana: Only a few more hours until tomorrow night.
Nelson: An eternity.
She fell asleep with her phone clutched to her chest, dreaming of a time when they wouldn't have to hide, when loving him wouldn't require lies, when wanting each other wouldn't feel like betrayal.
But morning came with reality: her mother's suspicious questions, her father's oblivious pride, Catherine's worried glances, and somewhere in town, Raven Cole watching, waiting, piecing together a puzzle that would destroy them both when completed.
The clock was ticking. And neither of them knew how much time they had left.