The café door clicked softly behind them, the final notes of jazz music fading away as the night unfolded. The world outside had already begun to quiet down — the city's usual hustle slowing to a gentle hum. Twilight settled over the streets, painting the buildings in a soft lavender glow, while streetlights flickered on one by one, casting warm halos on the pavement.
Catherine hugged her coat tighter around her, her cheeks flushed, but not from the food. Not entirely. There was something about being in Collin's company that made her heart beat a little faster. Or maybe it was the quiet comfort of just being around someone who didn't expect anything from her.
Collin walked beside her, his pace leisurely, as if he had no obligations — no schedule. Just the moment.
"You always take the train home?" he asked casually, glancing sideways at her.
Catherine nodded, the evening air brushing against her face. "Yeah. It's peaceful, mostly. Gives me time to think."
Collin smirked, eyes twinkling with amusement. "To think? That sounds dangerous."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "More like exhausting."
Their footsteps were in sync, the rhythm comfortable. No rush. No need for anything but the quiet hum of their surroundings.
As they neared the corner where the buses split from the train station, Collin slowed, his gaze flicking over to her with something almost apologetic. "I'd feel like a terrible human being if I let you take public transport this late," he said, his voice low but sincere. "Let me drive you home. It's not far."
Catherine opened her mouth, ready to protest, but there was no pressure in his tone. Just a genuine desire to make sure she was okay. The offer didn't feel like a favor; it felt like a quiet care.
"Okay," she said softly.
When they reached his car, she slid into the passenger seat of his sleek, black Audi, taking in the faint scent of cedarwood and bergamot that seemed to hang in the air. She leaned back, letting herself settle into the warmth of the interior. It was comfortable. Secure.
They pulled onto the road, the car moving smoothly through the night. Collin tapped the steering wheel once, his voice casual as he spoke again. "So… I was thinking," he said, glancing at her. "Don't judge me, but there's this old arcade I used to go to as a kid. Still around. Retro games. Neon lights. The air hockey tables are insane."
She turned her head toward him, smiling, her interest piqued. "Are you trying to impress me with your childhood?"
"No," he replied, deadpan. "I'm challenging you."
Catherine raised a brow. "To what?"
"A Mario Kart battle. Loser buys ice cream."
She burst out laughing, her voice light and free in a way she hadn't felt in so long. The sound caught her off guard, but in a good way.
"You're joking."
"I never joke about Mario Kart," he said with mock seriousness. "It's a sacred competition."
She grinned, feeling a playful warmth spread through her. "You should know, I'm ridiculously good."
He put a hand to his chest in exaggerated distress. "Well, this is how I go out, then."
Their laughter mingled, a soft rhythm in the car as they cruised through the quiet streets. There was something comfortable about the way Collin made her feel — like she could just be herself, no pretenses, no expectations.
As they neared her building, the familiar sight of the entrance made her chest tighten with some unnameable emotion. The car slowed to a stop at the curb, and she reached for the door handle, but before she could open it, she looked at him.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice sincere. "For everything. For dinner. For the ride. For just… being here."
Collin met her gaze, his expression open, unguarded. "I'm happy to be here," he said quietly. "I'm glad you let me be."
She smiled, but there was a certain sadness in her eyes as she lingered in the moment. The weight of everything that had happened recently still clung to her — her father's passing, Maverick's betrayal, the loneliness that settled like dust in her chest. It felt like a lot for anyone to bear, let alone her. But having someone like Collin — someone who was steady, who didn't push, who simply was — made it easier to breathe.
Catherine turned slightly in her seat, her thoughts suddenly swirling in a way they hadn't before. "I'm glad you're here too," she said, her voice a little softer. "But how are you doing? You've been… a little distant lately, like there's something on your mind."
Collin paused, glancing over at her, his face briefly shifting as if caught off guard. For a moment, he said nothing, his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel. He wasn't used to talking about himself — not like this.
He had so many things he could say. So many things he should say. Things that would explain why he was quieter, why he'd been pulling back a little. But there was something in her gaze, something soft and caring that made him hesitate. He didn't want to burden her with his own mess, not when she had her own battles to fight.
Instead, he shrugged, keeping his tone light. "It's just work. The usual," he said, his voice guarded. He didn't mention Maverick. Didn't mention the partnership that was suddenly on the table — the one that could change everything for him and his company. The one that could very well involve Maverick, and by extension, Catherine. He didn't know if it was the right time to bring that up. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have tonight.
Catherine studied him, her brow furrowing just slightly. She could tell there was more behind his words, something he was holding back. But she didn't press. Not now. She understood the feeling of wanting to keep things buried for a while.
"Well," she said after a pause, "if it helps, I think you're doing better than you realize."
Collin smiled faintly, grateful for her understanding, though there was still a heaviness in his chest. The tension of his secret, the unspoken deal hanging over him like a shadow, gnawed at him.
There was a long silence, the kind that stretched comfortably but held unspoken words. Catherine sighed, looking out at the streetlights flickering past.
"Thanks for being so… easy to be around," she said quietly. "You know, I've had some of the worst months of my life, but I'm still thankful for the friends I have. Aina, especially. And… you."
Collin's chest tightened at her words. He knew what she was going through. The loss, the betrayal. He could see it in her eyes — the exhaustion, the fragility she was trying to hide. And yet, she was here, still standing, still smiling.
"Yeah," he said softly, his voice low. "I'm glad I'm here too."
She looked back at him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I know we don't know each other that well… but I'm glad we crossed paths, Collin."
There it was again — the feeling, subtle but unmistakable. That look between them. The kind of look that said, I want to be here for you. That said, maybe we could be more than just passing strangers.
But Collin wasn't sure he was ready to cross that line. Not yet.
With a deep breath, he reached over and gently opened the car door. "I'll text you," he said, his voice steady. "For that rematch. You know, so I can defeat you properly this time."
She grinned. "We'll see about that."
As she stepped out into the night, their eyes met one last time, and for a moment, time seemed to still.
The night was full of possibilities — unanswered questions and unspoken feelings. And for once, neither of them was running from it.