Chapter 2 The Space Between Us

The next few days passed by in a blur of routine, like the world around Aria was moving at a pace far too quick for her to keep up. The diner had its usual rhythm-clinking plates, the low hum of chatter, the smell of burnt coffee and frying eggs. She found solace in it, or at least, she used to. But now, each time the bell over the door chimed, her breath caught in her throat, as if she were waiting for him. For Damian Voss.

She hated the way her thoughts kept circling back to him, like a stubborn itch that couldn't be scratched.

It wasn't just the strangeness of their encounter or the eerie calm of his presence that unsettled her. No, it was something else. Something far more unsettling. Something about the way he saw her-like he was aware of the things she didn't even know about herself. It was as though he could peel back the layers of her life with just a single look, like there were no walls she could hide behind.

She tried to forget him. After all, what could a billionaire like Damian want with someone like her? A waitress scraping by, living paycheck to paycheck, with nothing more than dreams of a better life that seemed a thousand miles away.

But even when she tried to push him from her mind, the memory of his eyes-cold, calculating, yet strangely warm-kept slipping into her thoughts, uninvited.

The second time she saw him wasn't a coincidence. Not that she thought it would be.

It was a Tuesday. Another dreary afternoon when the air was thick with humidity, and the skies threatened to spill over at any moment. Aria had just clocked out, exhausted from a double shift, when she stepped out into the street. She didn't know where she was going, only that her legs were carrying her somewhere, anywhere, just to break free from the suffocating monotony of her life.

Her feet took her to a small café a few blocks from the diner. A hole-in-the-wall spot with chipped mugs and an aroma of fresh-baked croissants that made her stomach growl despite her exhaustion. She usually didn't have the luxury to sit and relax-time was a rare commodity for her-but today, she needed it. She needed a moment of quiet.

Aria ordered a cappuccino, sitting at the farthest corner of the café, away from the few scattered patrons. She pulled out her notebook, intending to catch up on some coursework she'd been neglecting. But her mind wasn't on the assignments.

She didn't even hear the door open, but she felt the shift in the air as soon as he walked in.

Damian.

Her pulse quickened in an instant, and her stomach twisted, a familiar mix of unease and... something else. Something that made her heart stutter in her chest.

She didn't dare look up. Not yet. She couldn't afford to look like she was waiting for him, even though she was. Waiting, hoping, praying that he wouldn't notice her. That he would just walk past and disappear like he did before.

But he didn't. Of course, he didn't.

"Aria."

His voice was like a gentle breeze, cutting through the noise of the café, and even though it was soft, it made her stiffen in her seat.

She froze, her pen still in her hand as her mind scrambled to come up with a response. How does he know my name?

She looked up.

There he was. Standing by the counter, his hands clasped behind his back, staring directly at her with an unreadable expression. His sharp jawline, the tousled dark hair, the immaculate suit-everything about him screamed authority. Power. Control.

And yet, here he was, in a place that had no right to hold someone like him.

"I didn't expect to find you here," he continued, his eyes scanning the room as though everything in it were beneath him. "But then again, I should have. You strike me as someone who prefers quiet places."

Aria swallowed the knot in her throat. Her mouth went dry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving slightly. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, Aria." His voice was still soft, but there was an undeniable edge to it, something calculated in the way he spoke.

"I'm not uncomfortable," she lied, forcing herself to stand up. She gathered her things, avoiding his gaze. "I think you've got the wrong idea. I don't have time to-"

"I know you don't," he interrupted gently, stepping closer to her, the air between them growing heavy. "I know you're always running, always pushing forward, never stopping long enough to ask yourself what you really want." His gaze softened, but only for a moment, and then it was gone, replaced with that impenetrable mask of control. "You're not the first person I've seen like that, Aria."

She blinked, her breath caught in her throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You live your life on autopilot, don't you?" he asked, his voice almost teasing. "You keep your head down, get through the day, the shift, the paycheck. But inside, you're waiting for something to change, something to wake you up."

Aria stared at him, taken aback by his insight. Who the hell does he think he is? No one had ever looked at her like that. Like they could see through every mask she'd carefully built to protect herself.

"Look," she began, her voice shakier than she intended, "I don't know what kind of game you think this is, but-"

"No game," he interrupted again, more serious now. He stepped back, giving her space, but there was still something in his eyes, something that was impossible to ignore. "I'm not here to play games, Aria. I'm here because I think you need to stop running."

She blinked rapidly, her mind racing. Stop running? From what?

"Listen, I don't need saving," she finally said, her voice defensive. "I'm just fine on my own. I don't need anyone."

For a moment, his expression softened, but it didn't stay there long. Instead, it hardened again, like he was hiding something behind that perfect, unreadable mask.

"You're wrong, Aria," he said, his tone soft but firm. "Everyone needs someone. Even the ones who pretend they don't."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving her standing there, staring after him in a haze of confusion and frustration.

What was it about him? What was it about the way he looked at her that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something-something she couldn't yet name but was so close to discovering?