Rebirth: Love me Again-Chapter 310: An Unexpected Comfort

[EVE]

"Don't be so tense, Eve," Dean chuckled, his voice smooth and teasing. "You're making it look like I forced you to be here. That hurts my feelings, you know." He placed a hand over his chest dramatically, as if genuinely wounded.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "It's not like that. I'm just . . . worried about the show." I exhaled, trying to ease the tightness in my shoulders. "Honestly, though, I feel comfortable around you. It's weird because I just met you, but . . ." it felt like I've known you for a long time.

Dean smiled, something warm and knowing in his expression. "The feeling's mutual. That's why I want to get to know you—if you don't mind."

I met his gaze, feeling a rare sense of ease. "Not all. I feel exactly the same."

With that, we settled into dinner, conversation flowing naturally between us. Dean asked questions, and surprisingly, I found myself answering without hesitation. I wasn't used to strangers prying into my personal life, but with him, it didn't feel invasive. It felt . . . familiar, as if I were talking to an old friend.

Maybe it was his charm, or maybe it was just the exhaustion catching up to me, but for the first time in a long while, I wasn't overthinking every word I said.

Then—

"I heard that you're adopted?" Dean asked casually, sipping his wine.

I nodded. "Yeah. The Rosettes adopted me but . . ." I hesitated, then offered a small smile. "I found my real family now."

"Really?" His smile remained, but for a brief moment, there was something unreadable in his eyes. "Your life must have been . . . quite a story. Might even make a good drama."

I chuckled. "Maybe. My life has enough twists and turns to fill a novel. But what about you? How big is your family? Do you have siblings?"

"Me?" Dean let out a small huff of laughter. "I'm actually the youngest. And believe it or not, we're all boys."

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "All boys? No sisters at all?"

Dean's smile lingered for a moment, but then, as if a shadow passed over him, his expression turned solemn.

"Actually . . ." He hesitated, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "We had a baby sister."

Something in his tone made my breath catch. "Had?"

Dean exhaled slowly, as if saying the words alone was a weight pressing down on him. He met my gaze, and for the first time that night, I saw something raw in his eyes—grief, longing . . . and something else I couldn't quite place.

"Someone took her," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "She was just a baby. We never saw her again."

A chill ran down my spine. "That's . . ." I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "That's tragic. I'm so sorry, Dean."

He gave a small, sad smile. "I barely remember her. I was four at the time. But I remember . . . holding her tiny hands. She used to curl her fingers around mine so tightly, like she never wanted to let go." He exhaled shakily, eyes distant, lost in the past. "I used to sleep next to her, make sure she wasn't scared in the dark. She smelled like milk and baby powder. She always smelled so good."

I felt a lump rise in my throat. "They say all babies smell like that."

"Yeah." His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid speaking too loudly would shatter the memory.

Silence settled between us, heavy with unspoken pain.

I forced a small smile. "I hope you find her one day."

Dean lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes dark with emotions too tangled to name. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"Me too."

But something about the way he looked at me made my heart pound—like he wasn't just hoping.

Like he was searching.

And for some reason, I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.

He then leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. "Anyway enough of the sob story. Are you married, Eve?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "No."

"Boyfriend?"

My heart skipped a beat.

Cole's face flashed in my mind, the weight of everything we had been through crashing down on me like a tidal wave. My heart warred with my mind—the ache, the longing, the exhaustion.

I had enough.

"No," I answered, my voice firmer than I expected. "I don't have anyone right now."

Dean didn't push, didn't pry. He only nodded, his gaze flickering with something that resembled understanding. I was grateful for it.

The rest of the night was unexpectedly pleasant.

Talking to Dean felt effortless, like reconnecting with a long-lost friend rather than engaging in some formal dinner. The pressure of the upcoming show, the chaos of my personal life—it all faded into the background as we laughed and shared stories.

By the time he drove me back to my apartment, it was almost midnight. I hadn't even realized how much time had passed.

"When was the last time I felt this at ease?" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief.

Dean stepped out of the car, opening my door for me. "See you later, Eve," he said, leaning against the sleek frame of his limousine. "And sorry for keeping you out so late. I really enjoyed our time together."

I smiled, a genuine one this time. "Me too."

"Don't worry about the show," he added, his voice light yet reassuring. "I'll make sure the dresses arrive at your studio first thing in the morning. So, get a good night's rest and stop stressing. I'll help you as much as I can."

My smile widened. "Thank you, Dean. Really. And you too—get some sleep. We don't want our main star of the show tripping on the runway from exhaustion."

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Dean laughed, flashing that signature, effortless grin. "Not in a million years, baby girl."

With a playful wink, he slipped back into his car, and I watched as the sleek vehicle disappeared down the road.

For the first time in weeks, I felt lighter.

Even if just for tonight.