(Lilac's POV)
Every move I made was a step closer to him, to the man I had loved for as long as I could remember. But now, it was no longer about being close to him. It was about making him mine.
I could feel it, the tension between us, the quiet undercurrent of desire that had been building since my first visit. It was there, in the way his eyes lingered a little too long on me, in the way he didn't push me away when I made excuses to stay longer. Tom was still grieving, and I was patient enough to wait. But I knew it was only a matter of time before he needed someone, before he would look at me and see what I had already seen: the woman who could make him feel alive again.
The first thing I needed to do was get him alone. That was the key.
My uncle had been a regular visitor to Tom's house, but now, after a few months, I noticed he was starting to pull back. He had his own life, and I didn't want to make it obvious that I was the one who was staying behind when he left. So, I started planning my visits more carefully. I made sure I was the one who dropped by with food, or stayed to clean up after dinner. I even started offering to help him with things around the house, tasks that were small but necessary—changing lightbulbs, fixing broken faucets, the kind of chores a widow shouldn't have to do alone.
Every time I was there, I made sure to create an atmosphere where he could feel comfortable, where he could relax. I kept the conversations light, casual, but underneath it all, I was calculating every word, every gesture. I needed him to see me as more than just my uncle's niece. I needed him to see me as a woman.
I noticed how he would look at me sometimes, like he was trying to figure something out. I wasn't sure what it was, but I could see the flicker of something—curiosity, desire, maybe even guilt—deep in his eyes. And I used that.
One night, after a long day of cleaning his kitchen and cooking dinner for him, I decided it was time to take the next step. My plan was in motion, and tonight, I would make it clear that I was no longer just the girl he had known for years.
"Tom," I said softly, placing the empty wine glasses on the counter. "You've been so good to me, letting me come by and help. I just wanted to… I don't know, do something special for you."
He looked up from his chair where he'd been reading the newspaper, giving me that familiar, worn-out smile. "You don't have to, Lilac. You've done more than enough already."
I smiled back, my voice steady but with a hint of something more. "I don't mind. Really. I want to. I like being here with you."
He paused, then set down the newspaper, studying me in a way that made my pulse quicken. "You've been a great help. I don't know what I'd do without you."
That was my opening.
I walked over to him slowly, taking my time, letting the space between us shrink. I could feel the air shift as I neared him, and I knew he could sense it too. The tension. The quiet promise of something more. I lowered myself onto the edge of the chair next to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth of my body.
"It's hard being alone, isn't it?" I whispered, my voice low, intimate. "I know you miss her… I can see it in your eyes."
He stiffened slightly, but I wasn't going to stop now. "But you're not alone anymore, Tom. I'm here."
I reached for his hand, letting it rest in mine. My touch was gentle at first, but I made sure he felt it—the weight of it, the softness of my skin against his. He didn't pull away, and that was all the confirmation I needed.
"I've been thinking…" I began, letting my voice trail off, letting the silence fill the space between us. "You deserve to be happy again, Tom. You've been through so much. And I want to help you find that happiness. If you let me."
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. There was something in his eyes, a mix of confusion and longing that I hadn't seen before. "Lilac, I…"
I didn't give him a chance to finish. I leaned in, close enough to feel his breath on my skin. His eyes darted to my lips, then back to my eyes, and in that moment, I knew I had him.
"You're not alone," I repeated, this time my voice barely a whisper. I let my fingers trail along his arm, slow and deliberate. "I want you, Tom."
His breath hitched. His body tensed. But he didn't move away.
I could see the struggle in his eyes, but I knew better than to back down now. He wanted me. I could feel it. I could see it. It wasn't a question of if, but when.
And tonight, I was going to make sure it happened.
I took a deep breath and leaned in even closer, my lips brushing the side of his face as I whispered, "Let me make you feel alive again."
For a moment, he didn't respond, his body still as stone. But then, just as I thought he might push me away, I felt him shift. His hand found its way to the back of my neck, his thumb grazing my skin. His grip was gentle at first, unsure, but it quickly tightened as his lips met mine in a kiss that was tentative at first, then grew more urgent.
I had him.
He wasn't pulling away. He wasn't stopping.
And I knew, without a doubt, that this was the moment I had been waiting for.
I had planned it all, carefully, strategically. I had prepared myself for this. Tonight, Tom would see me, not as the girl I had once been, but as the woman I was now.
And once I had him, I wouldn't let him go.