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Vivian’s POV

"Seriously, Gem?" I muttered under my breath, resisting the urge to throttle my cousin. She had sworn up and down that we’d have a fun night out with friends, yet here I was—alone, standing outside an Irish restaurant downtown, my breath fogging up in the cool night air.

I’d only agreed to come after her relentless badgering, and now, after making the effort, I was stood up. Typical.

Just as I debated whether to cut my losses and leave, my phone rang. Gemma. Of course.

"Relax, babe," she cooed the moment I picked up. "I promise this will be worth it. Who knows? Maybe your Prince Charming is inside, waiting to sweep you off your feet."

I rolled my eyes skyward. "Don't try to sweet-talk your way out of this. I'm genuinely annoyed, Gem."

"Annoyed now, grateful later," she chirped, unfazed. "Vina, if you don’t open yourself up to love, how will it ever find you? There are plenty of fish in the sea, but you’ll never catch one if you don’t cast your line—"

I cut in, deadpan, "You hate seafood. Need I remind you of the sushi disaster on your twenty-fifth birthday?"

She shuddered dramatically. "Ugh. PTSD from that spicy tuna roll. But that’s not the point."

"Then what is the point? Because this feels suspiciously like a setup."

Silence. Then, a hopeful, “So… you’re in?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "We are still discussing why I’m mad at you!"

"Oh, come on," she teased. "It wouldn’t kill you to get some action. When was the last time, Vina? Hmm? Are your legs practically rusted shut?"

My eyes darted around, checking that no passersby had overheard that little gem. I lowered my voice. "It’s been… a while."

Gemma shrieked so loudly I had to yank the phone away from my ear. By the time she was done, I was seriously reconsidering our familial bond.

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Look, I know you think I'm some lost cause—"

"I don’t," she interrupted, her voice softer now, sincere. "I just want you to be happy, Viv. Radiantly happy. And it’s been so long since I’ve seen that spark in your eyes. That monster of an ex-boyfriend snuffed it out, and I’m determined to help you find it again."

A lump formed in my throat, and I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle deep.

"A blind date isn’t going to fix me," I admitted. "I’m starting to worry that nothing can."

"Don’t say that," she said firmly. "I love you, and everything will be okay. You just need to take a leap of faith. That’s what this is—jumping into the unknown."

I glanced up at the glowing bar sign, skeptical. "Jumping into the lion’s den, more like it."

But deep down, I knew she had a point. I had spent so long running, hiding, convincing myself that solitude was the safest option. And yet, here I was, lingering. Maybe it was time to do something different.

“What does this guy look like?” I asked, half-expecting regret.

Gemma gasped in delight. "Tall, sexy, and handsome. You can’t miss him. He should be waiting inside, at the restaurant next to the bar. His name is Brennan."

Curiosity got the best of me. I moved toward the window, careful to stay inconspicuous, and peered inside. The place was lively—couples laughing over drinks, families chatting animatedly, servers weaving between tables. But my gaze caught on one figure in particular.

Seated alone in the corner, he stood out like a sore thumb. His massive frame, broad shoulders, and dark, slightly disheveled hair made him impossible to miss. The candlelight flickered against the sharp planes of his face, casting deep shadows across his strong jawline.

But it was his expression that held me captive.

At first glance, he seemed irritated—bored, maybe. But as I studied him, I saw something else. Something familiar.

There was sadness in the way his gaze flickered down to his watch, in the rigid line of his posture. A quiet kind of sorrow that pressed against my own chest, mirroring the ache I carried.

Then, as if sensing me, he suddenly looked up.

Our eyes locked.

A jolt shot through me, and I inhaled sharply, lips parting in surprise. There was no way he could actually see me—not through the darkened glass, not from this distance. And yet, it felt like he could. Like he was staring right into my soul.

The weight of it stole my breath.

Time stretched between us, thick and heavy. The restaurant’s noise faded to nothing, the world narrowing down to just him and me.

Then, panicked, I tore my gaze away. My pulse fluttered wildly, and a strange shiver coursed through me, entirely unrelated to the cool night air.

"Viv?" Gemma’s voice snapped me back to reality. "You still there?"

"Yeah," I murmured, still shaken. "I just saw..."

"Saw what?"

I hesitated. How was I supposed to explain that?

"Never mind," I said instead. "I’m… I’m going to do this. I’ll call you after."

Before she could say another word, I ended the call.

Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders, giving my reflection a final once-over in the window. Then, with a new sense of resolve, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.