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Zara moved around the kitchen, trying to focus on the task at hand—cracking eggs, heating the pan, and grinding coffee beans.

But her mind kept drifting back to Tess’s words, playing them over like she was trying to decipher a code. ‘So that’s where we are.’ It was simple, clear, but it left a lot unsaid. Zara was trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She poured the coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl in the mug, and thought about Tess’s hesitation.

Zara had tried to make it easier, brushing off her own need for clarity, but she couldn’t help feeling a little unsettled by how quickly Tess had shut down the conversation.

Maybe Tess was right to keep things vague, to keep her distance. After all, Zara had a way of charging into things.

If Tess seemed determined to move at a different pace, Zara would need to slow down if she wanted to talk next to her.

The eggs sizzled in the pan. She’d thought she’d be more nervous waking up next to Tess, but it had felt… right. Easy. And that was what had caught her off guard—how natural it had all felt until they started talking.

She’d wanted to tell Tess that she wasn’t looking for some intense, headlong rush into a relationship, but she also wasn’t interested in pretending this was nothing.

Yet Tess had made it clear she didn’t want to dig any deeper, and Zara wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Did it mean Tess wasn’t ready? Or that she wasn’t interested?

She looked at the door to the bedroom, half-expecting it to open, and half-dreading that Tess would just walk out, fully dressed, acting like this hadn’t been more than a blip.

That was the problem—Zara couldn’t tell where Tess’s boundaries were or if she was already bumping up against them.

She picked up the spatula, flipping the eggs. She wanted to believe Tess’s words last night had been honest, that she liked Zara, that she wanted to see where this went.

But there was a tightness in Zara’s chest that hadn’t been there before, a flicker of doubt she was trying to ignore. She’d spent the night figuring Tess out, getting to that rare, soft place beneath her sharpness, but now she was back to guessing.

The toast popped up. Zara decided how to handle Tess. She had to keep things light, easy—as Tess had asked. This could be enough, she told herself, if she let it.

Zara plated the eggs and toast, then paused, glancing at the bedroom door one more time.

She could hear the faint sound of Tess moving around, and she almost didn’t want to know what was going through her head right now.

It was easier, in a way, to keep this moment suspended, to keep Tess in her bed instead of facing whatever uncertainty was waiting beyond it.

But then the door creaked open, and Tess appeared. She was indeed fully dressed. Zara felt fear, but she smiled anyway, lifting the plate. ‘Breakfast?’

Tess hesitated, then returned the smile, though there was something cautious about it. ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

Zara watched her cross the room, taking in every detail—the way Tess moved, the way she avoided looking directly at her.

She wasn’t sure if she should say something more, something to break the quiet tension, but Tess had already settled down at the table, picking up her fork and starting to eat.

Zara sat down across from her, still trying to decipher the sphinx that was Tess Fitzgerald. Maybe this was just Tess’s way of keeping things simple.

Or maybe it was a way of avoiding what was bound to be messy. Either way, Zara knew she had to follow Tess’s lead. For now.