Page 81 of Unlocking Melodies

“Sarah might have helped with the menu planning.” He laid out grilled cheese sandwiches that looked exactly like theones I'd attempted to recreate earlier, along with thermoses of what smelled like Tony's famous tomato soup. “Though I did manage to talk her down from a seven-course tasting menu. She had opinions about proper romantic progression through food groups.”

A bottle of sparkling cider completed the spread - not wine, not champagne, just simple bubbles that somehow felt exactly right.

“I wanted something that felt like home,” he explained softly, pouring the cider into actual crystal glasses that probably cost more than my monthly rent. “Not some fancy restaurant where we'd have to worry about using the right fork.”

“Bold of you to assume I know which fork to use in any situation.” I picked up half a perfectly grilled sandwich, marveling at how something so simple could feel so significant. “Though I have to say, this is much better than my earlier cooking attempt.”

“About that...” His smile turned teasing. “I heard the smoke alarm had some concerns about your culinary adventures.”

“The smoke alarm is a drama queen who overreacts to perfectly normal kitchen experiments.”

“Is that what we're calling it now? Experiments?”

“Hey, some of the best scientific discoveries came from accidents.”

“Pretty sure none of them involved burning water.”

The banter felt easy, natural, like we'd done this a thousand times before. Maybe we had. But right then, with the lake reflecting starlight and candles casting shadows that danced like memories, it didn't matter what I couldn't remember. This moment was perfect exactly as it was.

“You know,” I said, watching him somehow make eating grilled cheese look elegant, “Past Jimmy probably would have tried to impress you with something fancy.”

“Past Jimmy,” he replied with surprising firmness, “once convinced me to skip a black-tie gala to eat pizza on a practice room floor.” His smile turned soft, reminiscent. “He knew then what I think you're learning now - sometimes the simplest moments are the most magical.”

A breeze rippled across the lake, carrying the sound of distant crickets and what I strongly suspected was Riley narrating into his phone for posterity. But even our not-so-subtle audience couldn't break the spell of this perfect setting.

“Though I have to admit,” Ethan added, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “getting Mrs. Henderson to part with her favorite tablecloth required significantly more negotiation skills than my last corporate merger.”

“Let me guess - she made you sign a contract in blood?”

“Actually, I had to promise three separate appearances at her bridge club. Apparently, they're very interested in my opinions on proper pastry technique.”

The mental image of Ethan, tech billionaire CEO, discussing scone recipes with Oakwood Grove's most enthusiastic gossips made me laugh so hard I nearly choked on my soup.

“I never thought I'd say this,” I managed once I could breathe again, “but I think small-town life suits you.”

The way he looked at me then - soft and open and completely unguarded - made every candle flame seem brighter, every star overhead shine clearer.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I think it really does.”

Behind us, I definitely heard a muffled squeal that sounded suspiciously like Nina. But with Ethan's hand warm in mine and the lake reflecting our own private constellation of fairy lights, I couldn't bring myself to care about our enthusiastic audience.

The conversation flowed as naturally as the lake's gentle ripples, moving from silly stories to deeper waters with anease that should have felt strange given my memory gaps but somehow didn't. Ethan told me about his first attempt at corporate negotiations - apparently fourteen-year-old Ethan had tried to leverage his allowance into controlling shares of his father's company using trading cards as collateral.

“In my defense,” he said, reaching for another sandwich half, “they were first edition.”

“I'm sure the board was very impressed with your innovative investment strategy.”

“Oh, completely. Dad still has the proposal framed in his office.” His smile turned softer, more reflective. “Though I think he keeps it more as a reminder that some things are worth more than market value.”

The way he looked at me then made my chest tight. Like maybe he wasn't just talking about trading cards anymore.

Ethan reached across the table suddenly, his fingers brushing my cheek with surprising gentleness. “You had a...” He paused, thumb lingering just a moment too long. “Crumb.”

The touch sent electricity racing through my veins, making every nerve ending feel alive and aware. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause - just us, this moment, and probably several extremely invested observers hiding in the surrounding foliage.

“Thanks,” I managed, my voice embarrassingly unsteady.

His hand retreated slowly, like maybe he didn't want to break the connection either. The air between us felt charged, heavy with things we weren't quite saying but could somehow feel anyway.

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