It was past nine in the evening when Liana found herself curled up on the couch, her knees tucked under a throw blanket, a book open in her lap. Outside, the rain had started to fall in heavy sheets, smudging the city lights behind the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Nathaniel was still in his home office, where he often disappeared after dinner. But tonight, something was different. She could hear his footsteps drawing nearer. And then—he appeared in the doorway.
He wasn't in a suit anymore.
Just a plain black shirt, sleeves pushed up, and gray sweatpants. He looked... almost ordinary.
"Can't sleep?" she asked softly.
He shook his head. "Tired of numbers."
Liana patted the space beside her on the couch. "Then sit. No numbers here. Just pages."
He hesitated. Then sat. A little stiffly. A little too far.Until the thunder rumbled.
The sudden crack of sound made her flinch.
And, without thinking, she reached for him—fingers brushing his hand. He didn't move away. Just turned his palm, slowly, letting her fingers rest there.
It wasn't romantic. Not dramatic. Just quiet.
But it was the first time they touched without obligation.
She didn't pull away.
Minutes passed. The storm outside grew louder, but inside, it was all soft breathing and steady heartbeats. Nathaniel leaned his head back against the couch, watching the rain trace rivers down the glass.
"I used to be afraid of thunder," he murmured.
Liana looked at him, surprised.
"When I was a kid," he continued, voice lower now. "My parents fought during storms. I think I started associating thunder with shouting."
Her heart clenched. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged, but his fingers curled slightly around hers. "It's quieter now."
She watched him for a while. The powerful, distant man the world admired was right here—barefoot, tired, and holding her hand during a storm.
She turned back to her book and kept reading, not to herself, but aloud.Her voice filled the silence like sunlight.
He didn't say anything. But after a few pages, she noticed his breathing had slowed. His eyes were closed. He had fallen asleep—head slightly tilted toward her, hand still loosely holding hers.
Liana didn't move. She just smiled gently and whispered to no one:
"Maybe you'll find your peace here after all."