Dinner was a silent affair, with James focused solely on his meal while Emily watched in amazement at his capacity to consume so much food. She envied his ability to eat freely at night without the haunting fear of weight gain.

On the way back, Emily casually suggested a walk.

“No thanks,” James replied haughtily, rejecting her offer without a second thought.

Emily didn’t push; his cooperation today had exceeded her expectations. Respecting his personal space, she wandered off toward the secluded beach on the other side of the villa.

The moon was resplendent, casting its silvery glow over the gently lapping waves. Emily, carrying her sandals, felt rejuvenated as she strolled barefoot along the soft sand. Growing up in a mountainous inland region, she only visited big cities before university. Her choice to attend school near Los Angeles was motivated by its proximity to the ocean.

Perhaps she could frequent the seaside more often—after all, someone else was picking up the tab.

James watched from the expansive villa windows, darkness enveloping the room. His gaze fixed on Emily’s carefree silhouette framed by moonlight—a stark contrast to his current predicament of never-ending legal battles.

She seemed utterly oblivious to his inner turmoil, not bothering to understand. This apparent indifference set her apart from his father’s previous companions, who always managed some feigned concern, unlike this audacious woman who just left him to his own devices!

Irritated, James opened a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up with a practiced ease born of years of smoking. Though not particularly dependent, tonight his nerves demanded it.

Smoke drifted lazily around him as he lounged on the sofa, eyes on the chandelier above. The moonlight spilling through the windows painted his surroundings with an unexpected tranquility despite the oppressive heat.

His father's recent proposal to marry brought James confusion and a forced nonchalance. What right did he have to object? He was merely a blemish on his father’s perfect visage—a remnant of youthful indiscretion.

He grew up in the shadows of his grandparents' sighs, under their constant reminders of his unwanted existence, incapable of ignorance due to his inherited intellect.

He was a living reminder of his father’s mistakes, and these thoughts surfaced bitterly whenever he was left to his own devices. His father, the successful paragon, always too busy with matters more important than his son's life.

Burying this line of reflection, James felt the weight of discontent settle over school-related issues. His relationship with Amy was a whim spurred by peer pressure—theirs was a match of convenience rather than affection. Despite her persistence, he was oddly disinterested and even found her presence discomforting.

Their fiasco culminated in her public ridicule over a simple birthday cake gesture—a provocation he met with his characteristic volatility, fueling rumors about his orientation that he vehemently denied.

Another cigarette lit, James couldn't help but let his thoughts wander back to Emily’s silhouette on the beach. Her essence was different—no attempt to curry favor, yet slipping effortlessly between the chaos of his well-defended walls.

In her proximity, he felt confronted by honesty he had never anticipated or experienced. Her presence was both challenging and soothing, without the pretension that usually accompanied those of his father’s world.

Though he resented admitting it, he felt inexplicably tethered, the burden of anger dissipating amid her irreverent tactics.

James intended to retreat for the night, but one last glance at Emily, now leisurely returning from the shore, made him freeze.

Her movements were ethereal; the moonlight tracing her steps imbued her with an almost mythical allure, hinting at deeper currents below the surface. 

Caught by surprise, he stumbled clumsily into the glass, the echo of the impact and ensuing embarrassment leaving him retreating hastily, glancing momentarily at her intrigued expression directed toward his graceless retreat.

Back in his refuge, he cursed himself, the blush of humiliation breaking through the cool defensive walls he had so carefully erected. Was she really as enchanting as his reaction suggested? 

Emily was something else entirely—an intoxicating enigma that seemed to unsettle every certainty James held.

She had to be.