Zina's POV
The small restaurant Jared picked was nothing fancy, it was basically a hole-in-the-wall kind of place with mismatched chairs and dim lighting. but it felt… safe. After the chaos of the courtroom, I needed this. I needed normal.
And I was so hungry too.
Jared held the door open, letting me walk in first, and I tried not to let the small gesture affect me. It didn't matter that he was always this considerate. It didn't mean anything.
Except it did, it felt good to be taken care of for once.
"Cozy and warm," he said, glancing around before leading me to a booth tucked away in the corner.
I slid in, pressing my hands against the smooth surface of the table to keep them steady. Jared didn't seem to notice my nerves—or maybe he was pretending not to. He just smiled that infuriatingly calm smile of his and grabbed a menu.
