They leave the coffee shop together, the door swinging closed behind them with a soft chime.
The night is cool but not cold. The kind of evening that feels like it’s cooperating.
They walk side by side toward the park across the street. Not close enough to touch. Not far enough to feel distant. Their steps fall into rhythm without effort, neither of them leading.
Jude slows slightly as the park entrance comes into view. Selah feels it before she sees it. She looks up at him.
Jude clears his throat, eyes still forward. “Are you sure you want to walk through the park at this hour?” A brief pause. “I mean—I’ve seen movies.”
Selah smiles instantly.
“Have you seen the one where the badass hot girlfriend fights off the werewolf?”
Jude laughs. A real one. “Do you always do that?”
“What? Fight werewolves?” she asks, half-smiling.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Give witty comebacks.”
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“I hear you,” he says. “I’m sure your boss loves it when you do that.”
She glances at him sideways. “I am the boss. Not the boss boss, but close enough.”
Jude pauses.
“Of course you are.”
They step into the park. The path curves gently, lit by lampposts spaced just far enough apart to keep the darkness honest. The city noise fades to a low hum behind them.
A young couple approaches from the opposite direction. Late teens, maybe early twenties. The girl struggles with a bottle cap while the guy scrolls his phone, distracted.
His phone rings. He stops walking to answer it, animated, oblivious.
Jude gestures toward the bottle.
The girl looks up, surprised, then smiles. She hands it to him. Jude twists the cap open easily and hands it back.
“Thanks,” she says, smiling wider.
“No problem,” Jude replies, already stepping back into stride.
Selah notices everything. She says nothing at first. A few paces later, she turns her head slightly. “Are you always like that?”
“Like what?”
“A gentleman,” she says. “Thoughtful. Charming.”
Jude chuckles. “Oh. You mean the bottle.”
“That,” she says. “And the waitress earlier. And the cashier. And, and, and–”
“I was just being polite,” he says. “That’s how my mom raised me. She was from the South.”
“I see,” Selah says. “I bet your bosses love that.”
Jude smiles. “I am the boss. Not the boss boss, but close enough.”
They laugh together, steps still aligned.
Up ahead, a bench sits beneath a lamppost. Well-lit. Empty. Waiting.
They both speak at the same time.
“Do you want to—”
“Should we—”
They stop, look at each other, laugh again.
They sit. Close. Not touching.
Then Selah shifts. She rests her head on Jude’s shoulder, wraps her arm around his. Her eyes close almost immediately, as if her body made the decision before her mind could catch up.
It feels unremarkable in the way only right things do.
Jude stills, then relaxes. His thumb makes slow, absent circles against her sleeve.
The park hums softly around them.
A familiar sound approaches. Footsteps. Voices.
The young couple from earlier passes behind them now, heading back the way they came.
Selah opens one eye. “Your friend’s back,” she murmurs.
Jude turns his head slightly, confused for a moment, then sees the girl smiling at him again. He smiles back—soft, brief.
As the young couple passes, she says brightly, “Thanks again! Have a nice night.”
The two walk on. A few steps later, the guy’s voice floats back.
“Wait. What are you thanking him for? Do you know him?”
Selah smiles into Jude’s shoulder. “If that werewolf comes,” she says quietly, “she’s gonna rescue you before him.”
Jude lets out a soft laugh. One corner of his mouth lifts. His attention stays with Selah.
Another quiet stretch.
Then, still looking ahead, Jude speaks. “I really want to thank you,” he says. “For this. Tonight.”
Selah lifts her head, looks at him for a moment, then rests it back on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she says. “I needed this.”
The words settle between them. Silence returns, deeper now. Selah breaks it gently, eyes still closed.
“What’s on that mind of yours?”
Jude exhales slowly.
“Selah… I want to ask you something,” he says. “And I really hope you don’t find me strange for asking.”
She lifts her head again, slower this time. She meets his eyes. “Ask me whatever is on your mind,” she says. “I’ll decide later if it’s strange.”
He smiles. For a second.
“Can I just…look at you for a moment?”
She doesn’t answer with words.
Instead, she studies his face—the kindness, the restraint, the care she’s been noticing since the bookstore.
Then she stands, taking his hands. She steps back, straightens her sweater slightly, eyes never leaving his.
Jude looks. Not searching. Not consuming. Just witnessing.
Her hair. The curve of her profile. The way she turns, slow and deliberate, offering herself without performance.
When she sits again, she rests her head on his shoulder once more.
A few breaths pass.
“Selah,” Jude says quietly. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. And that isn’t even close to what I like most about you.”
She lets the words settle. Then she finds his hand. Interlocks their fingers.
They sit like that, beneath the lamppost, the night holding them gently.
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