The drive back to the city was quieter than the journey there.
Not uncomfortable. Not awkward.
Just quiet.
Annie sat in the passenger seat with Auntie Mei’s snacks resting on her lap, staring through the window as the countryside gradually disappeared behind them. The familiar fields and narrow roads gave way to wider streets, busy shops, and the distant outline of the city.
She should have been thinking about how much she missed home.
Instead, she kept thinking about Brian.
More specifically, she kept thinking about the way he had sat in Auntie Mei’s kitchen without complaining. The way he had listened to every embarrassing story about Annie’s childhood. The way he had carried the heavy bags without making a show of it.
And the way he had held her hand before they left.
Annie glanced at him.
Brian was driving with one hand on the steering wheel, his expression calm and focused. His other hand rested near the center console, close enough that she could reach it if she wanted.
He didn’t ask her to hold it again.
He didn’t pressure her.
That somehow made it worse.
“You’re staring,” he said without looking at her.
“I’m inspecting you.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Very. Your face is suspiciously calm.”
Brian’s lips moved slightly. “You were the one who became quiet.”
“I’m reflecting.”
“On what?”
“Your behavior.”
“Have you reached a conclusion?”
Annie pretended to consider it. “You’re less unbearable than I initially thought.”
“That sounds like progress.”
“Don’t get excited. You’re still arrogant, controlling, and annoyingly handsome.”
This time, Brian glanced at her.
Annie immediately looked out of the window.
A faint smile touched his mouth. “You think I’m handsome?”
“I said annoyingly handsome. The annoyance is the important part.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t smile like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve won something.”
Brian returned his attention to the road. “I haven’t.”
“Good.”
“But I’m beginning to think you compliment me more often than you realize.”
Annie turned toward him. “You must have hit your head this morning.”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s your first problem.”
He laughed quietly.
The sound settled between them, warm and unexpected.
Annie looked away before he could notice how much she liked hearing it.
She had spent weeks insisting that Brian Starks was a difficult man. A man who made decisions too easily, spoke too confidently, and carried himself as though the entire world had been designed to accommodate him.
Yet lately, she had begun noticing the things beneath that image.
He remembered her favorite food.
He listened when she spoke about Auntie Mei.
He had driven her home without hesitation, brought gifts for the woman who raised her, and allowed himself to be teased by someone who had known Annie since childhood.
And, despite all his power, he had never once treated Auntie Mei as someone beneath him.
That mattered more than Annie wanted to admit.
“Are you hungry?” Brian asked.
Annie narrowed her eyes. “Are you?”
“I asked first.”
“Which means you’re avoiding the question.”
“I had breakfast.”
“You had half a sandwich.”
“You saw that?”
“I have eyes.”
Brian sighed softly. “I’m not hungry.”
Annie reached into the bag on her lap, pulled out a wrapped snack, and placed it on the center console.
“Eat.”
“I’m driving.”
“You have one hand free.”
“Annie.”
“Brian.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
His expression remained composed, but she could see the familiar discomfort beginning to gather around his eyes. It was subtle—something most people would overlook.
Annie didn’t.
“Your stomach hurts,” she said.
“It’s manageable.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
Brian said nothing.
Annie leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “Pull over.”
“I’m fine.”
“Pull. Over.”
“Annie—”
“If you refuse, I’ll call your mother and tell her you’ve been starving yourself again.”
Brian’s jaw tightened.
“You wouldn’t.”
Annie smiled sweetly. “Try me.”
For several seconds, he continued driving. Then he turned into a small roadside rest area and parked.
Annie immediately unwrapped the snack and handed it to him.
Brian looked at it.
Then at her.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“You’re aware that most people don’t order me around.”
“Most people have poor judgment.”
He took the snack.
Annie watched until he finished it, then handed him a bottle of water. Only after he drank did she settle back into her seat.
Brian studied her for a moment.
“What?” she asked.
“You worry too much.”
“About you? Unfortunately.”
“You could choose not to.”
“I could also choose to become a nun. Neither option sounds appealing.”
His gaze softened.
Annie noticed and quickly reached for another snack.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I said something meaningful.”
“You did.”
“I was insulting you.”
“You can do both.”
Annie fell silent.
She hated when he said things like that—simple statements delivered in that low, steady voice, as though he wasn’t aware of how easily they slipped past her defenses.
Brian restarted the car.
Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes.
But this time, the silence felt different.
It felt full.
By the time they reached the Samson residence, the sun had begun to sink behind the trees.
Eleanor was waiting in the entrance hall.
The moment Annie stepped inside, her mother hurried toward her and pulled her into a hug.
“Welcome home.”
Annie stiffened for half a second before relaxing into the embrace.
“I was gone for one day,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“You’re acting as if I returned from another country.”
Eleanor smiled against her hair. “I missed you.”
Annie’s chest tightened.
She had never been accustomed to being missed.
Not like this.
Not by someone who had spent eighteen years searching for her.
Annie pulled away and held up the bag in her hand. “Auntie Mei sent snacks.”
Eleanor’s face softened. “She did?”
“She said you should eat properly.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She also said you look too thin.”
Eleanor turned toward Brian, who had just entered behind Annie. “Did you hear that?”
Brian nodded. “She said it several times.”
Annie pointed at him. “Traitor.”
Eleanor laughed.
William appeared from the sitting room, followed by Emily and Nicholas. Nicholas took one look at the bags in Brian’s hands and raised his eyebrows.
“Did you two rob a supermarket?”
“Auntie Mei gave us things,” Annie said.
“Then why does Brian look like he’s returning from a business acquisition?”
“Because he can’t do anything normally,” Annie replied.
Brian handed one of the bags to Margaret Lewis, who had approached to help.
“Please put these in the kitchen,” he said. “The fresh items should be refrigerated.”
Margaret glanced inside. “You bought all this?”
“Some of it was from my family.”
Nicholas leaned closer. “Your family sent enough food to feed a small village.”
“Then you should be grateful,” Annie said. “You eat like one person with the appetite of three.”
Nicholas placed a hand over his heart. “I’m being attacked in my own home.”
“Your home?” Emily asked. “You don’t live here.”
“Emotionally, I do.”
“Unfortunately,” Linda said from the staircase.
Nicholas looked up. “You wound me, Linda.”
“Good.”
Annie burst out laughing.
Brian’s gaze moved toward her, and for a moment, he simply watched her laugh with his family.
Something in his expression changed.
It was brief, almost invisible.
But Annie caught it.
He looked content.
The realization made her laughter fade slightly.
Brian Starks, who rarely appeared satisfied with anything, looked as though he had found exactly where he wanted to be.
And she was standing in the middle of it.
Later that evening, Annie sat at the dining table with Eleanor and Emily while Margaret arranged the snacks Auntie Mei had sent.
William had gone to his study, and Nicholas had disappeared after receiving a call from a colleague. Linda sat at the far end of the table, reviewing something on her tablet.
“So,” Emily said casually, “how was the visit?”
Annie reached for a piece of dried fruit. “Auntie Mei interrogated Brian.”
Emily smiled. “Did she?”
“She asked whether he made me happy.”
Eleanor looked up.
Linda’s fingers paused over her tablet.
“And what did you say?” Emily asked.
Annie chewed slowly, suddenly aware that everyone was watching her.
“I said I think he does.”
Eleanor’s expression softened.
Emily smiled but didn’t tease her.
Linda, however, lowered her tablet.
“Do you?”
Annie looked at her. “Do I what?”
“Think he makes you happy?”
The question wasn’t sharp.
That was what made it difficult.
Annie leaned back in her chair. “Why? Are you collecting evidence?”
Linda ignored the sarcasm. “I’m asking seriously.”
Annie studied her sister.
Linda had always seemed guarded, as though every emotion had to pass through several locked doors before reaching her face. She rarely spoke without a reason, and when she did, her words often sounded colder than she intended.
But lately, Annie had begun noticing the concern underneath.
“I don’t know,” Annie answered honestly. “I’m still figuring it out.”
Linda nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”
Annie blinked.
She had expected an argument.
Instead, Linda looked down at her tablet again.
After a moment, she added, “Just don’t let the fact that he treats you well make you ignore the things you don’t understand.”
Annie’s expression grew thoughtful.
“What things?”
Linda hesitated.
“His world,” she said finally. “His business. The people around him. The expectations that come with his family.”
“Then explain them to me.”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Then stop warning me as if you do.”
Linda looked at her.
Annie expected the familiar defensiveness, but it never came.
“I’m trying,” Linda said quietly.
The words were so unexpected that Annie didn’t immediately respond.
Linda lowered her eyes. “I know I haven’t made this easy for you.”
The room became still.
Eleanor’s hand paused over the snack bowl.
Emily looked between them but remained silent.
Annie could have made a joke. She could have used sarcasm to push the moment away.
Instead, she said, “No. You haven’t.”
Linda accepted the answer without protest.
“But,” Annie continued, “you’re getting slightly less annoying.”
Nicholas’s voice suddenly came from the doorway. “That’s practically a declaration of love coming from Annie.”
Annie grabbed a napkin and threw it at him.
He ducked.
Linda’s lips curved faintly.
And just like that, the tension loosened.
Not gone.
But no longer impossible to bear.
Brian left shortly after nine.
Annie walked him to the entrance, pretending she was only there because she needed fresh air.
The evening breeze moved through the garden, carrying the scent of flowers and damp earth. Brian stood beside his car, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.
“You should go inside,” he said.
“You sound like my mother.”
“Your mother is usually right.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
Brian looked toward the house, where warm light spilled through the windows. “Your family seems relieved you’re back.”
“They’re dramatic.”
“They care about you.”
Annie’s teasing expression softened.
“Yes,” she said. “They do.”
Brian turned his attention back to her. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you relieved to be back?”
Annie glanced toward the road.
She thought of Auntie Mei’s little house. The familiar kitchen. The old wooden table. The feeling of knowing exactly where she belonged.
Then she thought of the Samson residence, Eleanor’s hugs, Emily’s quiet understanding, and the way Margaret always prepared too much food.
Her life had become divided between two homes.
And somehow, Brian had begun appearing in both.
“I think,” she said slowly, “I’m learning that home doesn’t have to be only one place.”
Brian remained quiet.
Annie looked at him. “Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“That thoughtful one. You look as if you’re about to say something devastatingly sincere.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
“I was going to say that you can visit Auntie Mei whenever you want.”
Annie’s smile faded into something gentler. “I know.”
“I can take you again.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
The answer caught her off guard.
Brian stepped closer, though he maintained enough distance for her to move away if she wanted.
“I’m not offering because I have to,” he said. “I’m offering because I want to.”
Annie’s heart gave an irritating little flutter.
She looked down at the pavement. “You’re becoming very inconvenient.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“From me?”
“Mostly.”
She smiled.
Brian lifted one hand and gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. His fingers barely touched her temple, but Annie went still.
The gesture was tender.
Too tender.
His eyes remained on hers.
For once, neither of them made a joke.
Annie could hear the distant sound of traffic, the rustling leaves, and the quiet rhythm of her own breathing.
Brian leaned slightly closer.
Not enough to kiss her.
Just enough to ask without words.
Annie’s pulse quickened.
She could have stepped back.
She didn’t.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes.
Then his phone rang.
The moment shattered.
Brian closed his eyes for half a second, visibly irritated, before answering the call.
“What is it?”
Annie turned away, pressing her lips together to hide her smile.
Of course.
Of course the universe would interrupt precisely when things became interesting.
Brian listened, his expression growing colder as the person on the other end spoke.
“Send the documents to my office,” he said. “I’ll review them tonight.”
Annie spun around. “No, you won’t.”
Brian covered the phone with his hand. “Annie.”
“You just ate one snack and think you’ve earned the right to work until midnight?”
His eyes narrowed.
She held out her hand. “Give me the phone.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then tell them you’ll review it tomorrow.”
Brian stared at her.
The person on the call said something.
Brian looked away, clearly struggling between irritation and amusement.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said finally. “No further calls tonight.”
He ended the call.
Annie smiled triumphantly. “See? Was that difficult?”
“Yes.”
“Your survival skills are questionable.”
Brian slipped his phone into his pocket. “You enjoy controlling me.”
“Only when you make terrible decisions.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You were worried I’d go back to work.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You were.”
Annie opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Brian’s smile returned—small, quiet, and unbearably pleased.
She pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
He stepped closer again, lowering his voice. “Good night, Annie.”
The warmth in his tone made her chest tighten.
“Good night,” she replied.
He entered the car but didn’t start the engine immediately. Through the open window, he looked at her one last time.
“Message me when you’re inside.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re parked in front of my house.”
“Still.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet you’re standing here.”
Annie leaned toward the window. “Drive before I change my mind about you.”
Brian smiled.
Then he drove away.
Annie remained at the gate until his car disappeared around the corner.
Only then did she touch the place on her temple where his fingers had brushed her skin.
Her smile slowly faded.
She had spent so long believing that letting someone into her life meant giving them the power to hurt her.
But Brian had not forced his way in.
He had entered quietly.
One meal at a time.
One remembered detail at a time.
One gentle gesture after another.
And the most frightening part was no longer the possibility that she might fall for him.
It was the realization that she might already be falling—and that she didn’t want to stop.