As they drove deeper into unfamiliar streets, Lena glanced at Ethan curiously from the passenger seat.
"Where are we heading?" she asked, noticing the route wasn't one she recognized from their usual work destinations.
Ethan flashed her a quick grin. "You said you wanted something simple," he said. "I thought home-cooked food would be the best option."
Lena blinked, surprised. "I didn't know you could cook."
He chuckled softly, turning the wheel with easy confidence. "It's a survival skill," he said. "Especially when you spend years alone in a foreign country with no one else to rely on."
Minutes later, Ethan pulled into an underground parking lot and led her toward a private elevator.
When the doors opened, they stepped into a beautiful penthouse, all sleek lines, warm wood, and soft, welcoming light.
"Welcome," Ethan said, tossing his keys into a dish by the door. "You're the first female guest I've ever brought here."
Lena froze for a moment, her cheeks warming despite herself.
While she was still absorbing that information, Ethan casually shrugged off his blazer, draping it over a nearby chair, and began rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
Lena's eyes followed the movement, helpless to look away.
The way his forearms flexed, the easy strength in his hands—it was so natural, so intimate without even trying.
And for the first time, Lena found herself wondering, Could this man really be someone who could give her a real home?
Not just a roof over her head—but warmth, safety, love.
"Is there anything I can help with?" she asked, breaking the silence, her voice a little softer than she intended.
"Nah," Ethan said, flashing her a small smile as he moved into the kitchen. "You're the guest. Just sit down and relax. I won't be long."
She obeyed, settling onto the cozy couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched him move confidently around the kitchen.
Half an hour later, Ethan set a simple but beautiful meal on the table: pasta tossed with fresh herbs and olive oil, a crisp salad, and a hearty soup that filled the space with mouthwatering warmth.
"It smells amazing," Lena said sincerely as she rose and made her way to the table. "And it looks even better."
"Good," Ethan said, his eyes crinkling with a rare, soft smile. "I hope you like it."
They ate in comfortable quiet, trading small smiles and glances that lingered longer than necessary.
After they finished, Lena insisted on helping clean up. "It's the least I can do," she said, already standing with her sleeves rolled up before he could protest.
Ethan chuckled and let her wash the dishes while he disappeared briefly into the kitchen again.
When she finally finished and moved back to the living room, Lena found Ethan already there, a small plate of neatly cut fruit waiting on the coffee table.
She smiled and was about to sit down when Ethan did something she didn't expect.
He set the fruit down carefully…
And then, slowly, lowered himself onto one knee in front of her.
Lena's heart stopped.
"Ethan…" she breathed, wide-eyed, completely frozen. "Why…?"
He reached for her hands gently, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in slow, calming strokes.
"Lena," he said, voice low and raw, "I know I confessed before. But tonight—"
He swallowed hard, the emotion thick in his throat.
"Tonight, I want to ask you properly."
He looked up at her, everything he felt laid bare in his gaze.
"Please," he said. "Give me a chance. Let me love you. Let me take care of you. Not because you need it—but because I want to. Because there's no one else I've ever wanted like this."
Tears welled in Lena's eyes before she could stop them, blurring her vision until all she could see was him—kneeling there, offering her something she had almost forgotten she was worthy of.
"I…" she whispered, blinking rapidly. "I don't even know why you like me, Ethan. I'm not perfect. I have a lot of broken pieces."
He smiled, achingly tender. "Everyone does."
Lena lowered her hand slowly, her voice shaking but steady enough.
"But if it's you," she whispered, "I'm willing to trust you."
The relief that washed over Ethan's face nearly undid her.
No matter how many times he had pictured this moment, nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming rush of hearing her say yes.
Before he could stop himself, he reached up and cradled her face in his hands, tender and careful, as if she were something delicate and precious.
Slowly, he leaned in, his forehead brushing against hers for a moment, letting her feel his steady breath, his silent vow.
And then he kissed her.
It was soft at first, a careful meeting of lips that spoke more than any words could, full of promise, devotion, and gratitude.
But as Lena leaned into him, the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried.
Ethan's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. Lena's hands found his chest and shoulder, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her steady.
When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, Ethan didn't pull away.
Instead, he pressed his forehead gently against Lena's, his hands still resting lightly at her waist.
A slow, happy smile spread across his face, so genuine and boyish that it made Lena's heart flip over in her chest.
"Hello, girlfriend," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion but filled with unmistakable warmth.
Lena let out a soft and shaky laugh while her cheeks flushed. She gave a small, playful nudge to his shoulder, even as she leaned into him, her smile blooming without restraint.
"Hello, boyfriend," she whispered back.
Ethan's arms tightened around her briefly, pulling her close again like he couldn't quite believe she was really there with him.
Later that night, after lingering over fruit and quiet conversation on his sofa, Ethan grabbed his keys and insisted on driving Lena home.
"You're not getting a cab this late," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
And truthfully, Lena didn't want to argue.
The drive was calm and comfortable, the city lights streaking past the windows as Lena curled up in the passenger seat, a soft, almost unreal happiness filling her chest.
When they pulled up in front of her apartment building, Ethan shifted the car into park but made no move to unbuckle his seatbelt. Ethan turned slightly toward her, his hand reaching across the console to gently take hers. His thumb brushed along the back of her hand in slow, absent strokes, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet.
"I had a good time tonight," he said. Lena smiled, her heart doing a slow, sweet somersault.
"Me too," she whispered.
Ethan squeezed her hand gently, then leaned closer, the space between them disappearing so naturally it felt like breathing.
His other hand came up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering to brush against her cheek. Lena's eyes fluttered closed for a second, just feeling him.
When she opened them, Ethan was still there, so close, his gaze steady, like he was memorizing every inch of her face.
Slowly, deliberately, he tilted his head and kissed her again.
This kiss was different, slow and deep, full of something Lena couldn't name but felt everywhere.
Lena sighed softly against his mouth, her fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt.
When they finally parted, Ethan rested his forehead against hers again, just like he had earlier, his breath warm and steady.
"I still can't believe that we are together now, Lena Kim," he murmured, his voice so tender it made her chest ache.
A shy, breathless laugh escaped her lips as she whispered back, "It is true, Ethan Calloway."
Finally, with great reluctance, Lena pulled back slightly.
"I should go," she said softly, though her fingers still clung lightly to his shirt for a second longer before letting go.
Ethan smiled, brushing one last kiss against her forehead before opening her door for her.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. Lena nodded, cheeks still pink, heart still racing.
"Goodnight, Ethan."
"Goodnight, baby," he whispered, his eyes lingering on her until she disappeared safely into her building. And as he sat back behind the wheel, watching her lights flicker on upstairs, Ethan Calloway couldn't stop smiling.