Selina didn’t expect anything special from the day. Her shift was steady, her mood calm, her thoughts clear. She moved through the café with the quiet confidence she’d earned piece by piece, week by week.
But something inside her hummed — a soft, warm anticipation she didn’t try to ignore.
She knew why.
Elias.
He showed up at the café.
Not dramatically. Not with flowers. Not with grand gestures.
He simply walked in during the late afternoon lull, sunlight catching in his hair, a gentle smile already forming when he saw her behind the counter.
“Hi,” he said, warm and easy.
Selina felt her chest flutter — not painfully, not fearfully, but softly, like her heart was stretching into new space.
“Hi,” she replied, steady but warm.
He ordered a flat white, but stayed near the counter instead of taking a seat. They talked — about his day at the clinic, about her course, about the community garden. Nothing heavy. Nothing rushed. Just two people enjoying each other’s presence.
When she handed him his coffee, their fingers brushed.
A small thing. A tiny moment. But it felt like a spark — gentle, warm, unmistakable.
Elias cleared his throat softly. “I was wondering… would you want to go for a walk after your shift?”
Selina didn’t freeze. She didn’t panic. She didn’t shrink.
She simply said, “Yes.”
They walked along the river.
The Brisbane evening was warm, the sky streaked with gold and pink. People jogged past, couples strolled hand‑in‑hand, the water shimmered softly.
Selina and Elias walked side by side, their steps easy, their conversation flowing naturally. He wasn’t trying to impress her. He wasn’t trying to fix her. He wasn’t trying to pull her into anything she wasn’t ready for.
He was simply there — present, kind, steady.
At one point, he paused and looked at her, his expression gentle.
“You seem stronger every time I see you,” he said.
Selina felt her throat tighten — not with fear, but with something tender.
“I’m trying,” she said.
“You’re doing more than trying.”
She didn’t look away. She didn’t deflect. She let herself be seen.
And she realised something quietly profound:
She trusted him. Not completely — not yet — but enough to let him walk beside her. Enough to let him see her. Enough to let something new begin.
When they reached her building, he stopped.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said softly.
Selina felt warmth bloom in her chest — steady, grounded, real.
“I’d like that too.”
He smiled — warm, relieved, hopeful — and she felt her world widen just a little more.
At home, she cooked something that tasted like trust.
Something warm, hearty, and grounding. Something that didn’t rush. Something that felt like letting her guard down just a little.
She found chicken drumsticks, garlic, herbs, butter, and potatoes.
Perfect.
Tonight she would make Garlic‑Butter Trust Chicken Drumsticks, a dish she’d invented during a week when she needed reassurance but now cooked because she had reassurance — gentle, steady, growing.
As the chicken browned, she felt her thoughts settle. As the garlic and butter melted into a rich sauce, she felt her chest loosen. As she plated the dish, she felt ready — truly ready — to trust something new.
She sat at her table, took a slow bite, and smiled.
Her life wasn’t just hers anymore. It was beginning to open — carefully, gently — to someone else.
And she was ready for that.
RECIPE — GARLIC‑BUTTER TRUST CHICKEN DRUMSTICKS
Warm, grounding, cheap, and perfect for nights when you let yourself trust something new.
Ingredients
3–4 chicken drumsticks
2 tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic (or garlic powder)
1 tsp mixed herbs
Salt & pepper
1 tbsp oil
2 potatoes, chopped (optional side)
Method
Season drumsticks with salt, pepper, and herbs.
Heat oil in a pan and brown drumsticks on all sides.
Add butter and garlic to the pan.
Reduce heat, cover, and cook until chicken is tender and coated in buttery garlic sauce.
Pan‑fry potatoes in the leftover butter until golden.
Serve together, warm and comforting.
Notes
Costs around $6 for two servings.
Add peas or spinach for extra colour.
Tastes like steadiness, warmth, and the quiet courage of trusting someone new.
and then Add to home screen.