*Sam's POV*
Finally, another weekend!
I was exhausted.
Law school had consumed every ounce of energy I had left in me. The past few weeks had been a blur of cases, readings, and late nights hunched over textbooks, trying to make sense of constitutional doctrines and contract provisions. Sleep was a luxury, and my caffeine intake had reached an all-time high. I needed a break, just a moment to breathe, to be somewhere that didn't smell like ink and paper.
The local coffee shop near the university was my escape.
As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of roasted beans and vanilla instantly calmed my nerves. It wasn't crowded, just a few people scattered at different tables, typing away on laptops or chatting in hushed voices. I ordered my usual vanilla latte, extra shot of espresso, and found a quiet corner by the window. With a deep sigh, I settled into my seat, fingers wrapped around the warm cup, savoring the first sip like it was a lifeline.
For the first time in days, I allowed myself to simply exist, watching the world move outside the glass. I didn't expect any interruptions. I didn't want any interruptions.
Then, the door chimed.
I glanced up, barely registering the tall figure who had just walked in.... until I did.
Nate.
My heart did this ridiculous, completely unnecessary flip in my chest. I quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in my coffee, but I could still see him from my peripheral vision. He was scanning the room, then, to my complete and utter surprise, he started walking toward me.
"Hey, Sam."
I swallowed. Hard.
"Hey," I replied, trying to sound casual, as if his presence didn't send my brain into overdrive.
He nodded toward the empty seat across from me. "Mind if I sit?"
I should've said no. I should've made up an excuse like told him I was busy, that I had readings to finish but instead, I found myself shrugging. "Go ahead."
Nate slid into the seat, setting his own coffee down. "Didn't take you for a coffee shop kind of person."
"Well, law school hasn't been kind," I admitted. "I needed a break."
He smirked. "Tough week?"
"Tough month."
"Tell me about it."
I hesitated, but his gaze was patient, expectant. I didn't know why, but I felt comfortable talking to him. So, I did. I told him about the endless case digests, the sleepless nights, the constant pressure of figuring out my future.
"I don't even know if I want to do litigation," I confessed. "The idea of standing in court, arguing, it's—"
"Exhausting?"
"Intimidating," I corrected. "I mean, I love the law, but I don't know if I want to be in a courtroom all the time. Maybe corporate law would be better for me."
Nate listened, nodding thoughtfully. "Corporate's a safe choice. Less courtroom drama, more contracts and negotiations."
"Exactly. But at the same time, I feel like if I don't at least try litigation, I might regret it." I shook my head, sighing. "I don't know. I just don't want to end up stuck doing something I hate."
There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice lower this time. "At least you have a choice."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He leaned back slightly, fingers tapping against his cup. "My family owns a law firm. It's expected that I'll join it. Doesn't really matter if I want to or not."
"That doesn't seem fair."
He let out a short laugh, but it lacked amusement. "It's just how it is. Expectations, obligations. I guess I don't mind, but sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to choose something completely different."
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten. "So... if you had a choice, what would you do?"
He thought for a moment. "Maybe open a bookstore. A quiet place, somewhere I don't have to deal with legal briefs every day."
I grinned. "I didn't take you for a bookworm."
"I have layers," he said with a smirk.
I laughed, shaking my head. "A bookstore, huh? That actually sounds nice."
"Yeah," he said, swirling his coffee absentmindedly. "I used to dream about it when I was younger. A place where I could just be, without expectations."
I watched him for a moment, realizing that underneath all his confidence, there was something else, something he didn't let people see often.
"So what's stopping you?" I asked.
He gave me a knowing look. "You know the answer to that."
I sighed. "Familial obligations?"
"Bingo." He leaned forward slightly. "And what about you? What would you do if law wasn't in the picture?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "I... I don't know. I never really thought about it."
"Come on, there has to be something."
I hesitated before saying, "Maybe write. Travel. Just... see the world."
He smiled. "That actually sounds pretty great."
We kept talking after that—about books, movies, the city. Every word he spoke made me feel something strange, something I didn't like one bit. It was too easy to talk to him, too easy to get caught up in his presence. And that was dangerous.
When the time came to leave, Nate stood up and stretched. "I'll drive you home."
I blinked. "What? No, it's fine. I can get a cab."
"It's late," he said, already grabbing his keys. "Come on, Sam. I won't kidnap you."
I hesitated, but after a moment, I sighed. "Fine."
The car ride was surprisingly comfortable. We talked about random things like his favorite places in the city, and local restaurants I should try.
"Have you ever been to the park near the old library?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No."
"You should go sometime. It's quiet, peaceful. Good for clearing your head."
I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."
He listed more places... hidden cafes, bookstores, local spots with the best food. It was clear he knew the city well, and for some reason, I found myself wanting to see it the way he did.
"Maybe I'll take you there sometime," he said casually, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
He glanced at me, a small grin playing on his lips. "I mean, if you ever need a break from law school again."
I opened my mouth to say something... ANYTHING... but nothing came out. I wasn't sure why my heartbeat had suddenly picked up speed.
When we finally reached our house, I unbuckled my seatbelt, turning to face him. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem." He gave me a lazy grin. "I'll see you around?"
I nodded, pushing the door open. But before I could step out, he spoke again.
"Hey, Sam."
I turned back. "Yeah?"
He hesitated for half a second before saying, "Don't overthink the future too much. You'll figure it out."
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten again. I nodded. "You too."
With that, I stepped out, closing the door behind me.
As I walked into our doorstep, I realized something unsettling.
I was still blushing.
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