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The Awkward Romantic

Hypothetical Question: You have five seconds to decide between only being allowed to eat savoury foods or only sweet foods for the rest of your life.

Nate

I pace the living room like a madman, my boots scuffing the hardwood floor in a rhythm that probably sounds like Morse code for, “Help, I’m panicking.” The tension in my chest tightens with every turn, and I glance at the clock for the hundredth time. Carina should be back any minute. I sent her out with Kai—not because I don’t enjoy her company but because the woman has the observational skills of a hawk and would’ve sniffed out my plans in two seconds flat.

She turned twenty-nine while being held captive by her father, a fact that still makes my stomach churn like I ate bad seafood. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and while I can’t time-travel to punch her father and bring her a cake, I can at least try to make her smile tonight.

The living room looks like a Pinterest board exploded in here. Plush blankets are spread out across the floor with the precision of someone who Googled “How to be romantic without looking like a lunatic.” Rose petals are scattered everywhere, because apparently, romance is 70% flowers and 30% emotional vulnerability.

Twinkling fairy lights wrap around every surface, making the space glow like the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie. A bottle of Italian wine chills in a cooler, next to strawberries expertly dipped in chocolate—by Enzo, not me. If I’d done it, they’d look like one of my crime scenes.

My stomach churns as doubt creeps in. Shit. What if it’s too much?

Too cheesy?

Maybe I should’ve gone with something simpler, like, I don’t know, just saying, “Hey, happy birthday, Princess. Hope your dad rots in hell,” and handing her a cupcake. Romance isn’t really my thing—I’m more of a ‘solve problems with violence’ kind of guy—but this is what Carina needs.

The sound of the front door clicking open snaps me out of my spiralling thoughts. My breath catches as I turn toward it.

Carina steps inside, her pink sundress brushing just above her knees. The warm spring air outside has allowed her to start dressing lighter, and though she’s still thin from the months she spent locked away, there’s a healthier glow to her now. Enzo’s relentless mission to fatten her up with pasta is starting to pay off.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene.

“Nate…” she breathes, her voice soft with awe.

Kai gives me a subtle thumbs-up before dragging a reluctant Enzo out the door. I owe them.

“What is this?” she asks, turning to me.

“Happy birthday, Princess,” I say, stepping toward her.

Her brow furrows. “My birthday was months ago.”

“I know.” I shrug. “But I wasn’t there. So, we’re making a new one. You can be like the Queen. She had two.”

Her lips twitch, and then a laugh bursts free—a real one. The sound is like a balm to the ache that’s been gnawing at me for weeks. Her smile lights up her face, making her look more like the woman I fell for, the woman I know is still fighting to claw her way back to the surface.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she mutters, stepping closer until she’s standing right in front of me.

I take her hand and guide her to the floor, where we settle onto the soft blankets. “I’d do literally anything for you,” I admit, trying to sound romantic but probably coming off like I’d rob a bank for her. (Which, to be fair, I would.)

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. “I know,” she whispers. Her fingers curl around mine, but there’s something hesitant in her touch. Her gaze drops, her other hand fidgeting with the edge of a blanket.

I tip her chin up gently. “Hey.” My thumb brushes her jaw. “You’re not broken, Carina.”

Her breath catches. For a second, I see it—a flicker of belief. But then doubt slams into her like a tidal wave.

“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I know you’re struggling, and God knows you have every reason to. But I’m here. I won’t let you fall.” I repeat my earlier words, praying she believes them. “You are not broken, Carina.”

Her breath hitches, and I see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

“I know you feel lost,” I continue. “Now that your vengeance is done, it’s like you don’t know who you are anymore. But that fire? That strength? It’s still there. And it doesn’t have to end here.”

She swallows hard, her eyes searching mine as if looking for something solid to hold onto.

“I already have a spot open for you at Haven,” I tell her. “You can help other women who’ve been through what you did. You can give them the hope and strength they need to fight their way back.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. She blinks rapidly like she’s fighting something—memories, ghosts, maybe the fear that she doesn’t know who she is without the rage.

“And if that’s all you want to do, that’s fine,” I say softly. “But if you ever want more—if you ever want to stand by my side in my version of justice—you can.”

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for mine, her fingers lacing through mine.

“Nate…” Her voice cracks. She shakes her head, trying to find the right words but can’t.

I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You don’t have to decide now. Just know that I believe in you. I always will.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, her shoulders relax—not completely, but enough. The weight she’s been carrying for months, maybe years, doesn’t vanish, but tonight, she lets me hold some of it.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with so much emotion that it makes my chest ache.

The world outside disappears, and for tonight, it’s just us. Me, the awkward romantic, and her, the woman who deserves every happiness.