The idea of going for a walk after such a filling meal seemed idyllic at first. The warm, golden afternoon sun promised a beautiful stroll, and the gentle breeze that blew through the villa's garden carried the scent of blooming flowers.
Zaya had suggested it with her usual calm, almost lazy confidence, and I agreed, thinking it would be a sweet, relaxing way to end the day.
But of course, nothing with Zaya and me could ever be just relaxing.
I stepped outside first, the cool tiles of the patio warming under my feet. The villa's garden spread out before us, lush and vibrant, with neatly trimmed hedges and bursts of colorful flowers.
A small stone path wound through the greenery, leading toward the sprawling grounds beyond.
"This is nice," I said, glancing back at Zaya, who was slipping on her sneakers with the kind of precision that made even that look effortless.