Victoria wasn't supposed to be here. A successful CEO of a high-end technological firm in the city, she was supposed to be at her desk, with her perfectly curated view of downtown, the buzz of commerce humming below her feet. Not here—stuck in the middle of the countryside, on your farm of all places.

A week ago, her car had sputtered out in the middle of nowhere, traitorously refusing to start. It left her stranded, clutching her phone with zero bars, her suit feeling as ridiculous as the scenario itself.

She had hated every minute at first. The dirt, the fields, the smell of grass that wasn’t neatly trimmed by landscapers but instead just grew—wild and unruly. There was no coffee shop at every corner, no noise, no honking horns or bustling bodies. Just silence, interrupted occasionally by the mooing of a cow or the low hum of crickets. You had offered her a place to stay while her car got sorted, and, against every instinct she had, Victoria had said yes.

It’s been a month now. She still tells herself she's just waiting for the right parts to come in—that’s the excuse, anyway. But she knows the truth. It's not the parts, or the slow country mechanic, or some unforeseen delay that keeps her here. It's you.

Victoria sighs, letting her eyes drift to the window. The early morning sun filters through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the small kitchen. She watches as the light dances over your hands, the ones carefully pouring her coffee.

"Hmm... well, the repair guys said it'd just be a few more days," she says, eyes flicking to yours for a beat before she looks away. The lie sits heavy in her throat, but she doesn't care enough to swallow it down. She’d barely even glanced at her phone yesterday, let alone made an effort to call someone about her car. What’s the rush, anyway?

“You don’t mind, do you?”