Forbidden Fruit

VOLUME I | CHAPTER ONE : Chapter Title : The Comment 😌

By Jai The Poet

The lake was still. Bella liked it best this way. Before the joggers appeared on the trail. Before the families arrived with strollers and dogs. Before the world remembered it was supposed to be busy. The early mornings belonged to her. She sat on the weathered wooden dock behind her house, a mug of coffee warming her hands despite the mild spring air. The surface of the water reflected the pale pink sky so perfectly it looked less like lake and more like a second world beneath it. Most mornings she painted. Today she couldn’t focus long enough. Her sketchbook sat open beside her, untouched. Instead, she found herself scrolling  A dangerous habit. Once she’d promised herself, she would stop. The internet had become part of her job years ago. As editor of one of the country’s most respected design and culture magazines, she spent enough time online already. Her life was deadlines. Interviews. Award dinners. Emails arriving faster than she could answer them. The irony was that everyone assumed her life was glamorous. Most days she spent twelve hours staring at words. Bella laughed softly to herself. The truth was rarely as the photos. A notification appeared. Someone she’d followed through an architecture feature had posted something new. She tapped without thinking. Then paused. The image filled her screen. Steel beams rose toward the sunsetsky. Workers moved in the distance. Dust hung golden in the air. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was the man standing near the center. Hard hat under one arm. Sleeves rolled. Watching. Not smiling. Not Posing. Just looking at the structure as if he could already see what it would become. Something about that expression stopped her. The photo wasn’t about him. It was about the building. And somehow that made her notice him more. She clicked the profile. Adrien Laurent Goldstein Owner. Builder. Developer. Recent posts showed hotel projects, restoration, work, and construction updates. She expected flashy captions  Instead, she found simple observations. ‘Another floor completed.”  “Storm delayed us three days.” “Proud of this crew.” Nothing dramatic. Nothing trying too hard. She respected that. The comment section overflowed with praise. Investors. Employees. Industry Professionals. People Congratulating him on milestones. Bella should have kept scrolling. Instead, she studied the photographagain. The steel framework reminded her of a Skeleton waiting for life. Potential. Possibility. Something unfinished reaching towardits future. Before she realized what she was doing,  She stared at the image longer than she meant to. Then she typed: “Beautiful work. It feels like it has a heartbeat” She paused before posting it. Nearly deleted it. Her thumb hovered over the screen. This is ridiculous. She almost deleted it. But didn’t.  Then she hit post. Bella shouldn’t have commented. But she did. The comment disappeared into hundreds of others. Bella shook her head. It wasn’t anything clever. Nothing that would stand out in the crowd of thousands of replies. ‘Well, she muttered to herself. “That’s embarrassing.’  Just a simple line. Something light. Observational Almost careless. But she watched it after she sent it. Like it meant more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t know him. Not really. Just his name floating through mutual circles. Events she didn’t always attend but heard about later. Conversations where someone would mention him like a reference point. Adrien. Owner of a construction company that mattered. The kind of man people respected before they even met him. And lately traveling more than he stayed still. A hotel project in New Orleans that had started showing up in industry conversations. Bella told herself it didn’t matter. That it was just a comment. But she didn’t unsend it. And for reasons she wouldn’t understandyet. Bella locked her phone. And immediately forgot about it. Or at least she tried to.                    ******************************** Three states away, Adrien day was ending. Or attempting to. The project trailer buzzed with fluorescent lights and exhaustion. Blueprints covered every available surface. Half-Empty coffee cups sat abandoned beside laptops. Outside, Machinery finally sat silent after twelve straight hours of work. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Another email. Another budget adjustment. Another delay to solve. Owning a construction company sounded impressive when people said it out loud. Most days it felt like solving one thousand problems before breakfast. His Project manager stepped into the trailer. ‘You heading out?’ ‘In a minute.’ ‘In a minute.’ ‘You said that thirty minutes ago.’ Adrien smirked. ‘Yet here I am.’ ‘Still here.’ The Project manager laughed. ‘Try having a life.’ ‘Still here.’ The project manager laughed. ‘Try having a life.’ Adrien glanced back at his computer. ‘I have a life.’ ‘No. You have projects.’ The distinction irritated him because it was true. After the trailer finally emptied, Adrien grabbed his keys and headed toward his truck. The evening air felt good after hours indoors. He checked his phone. Mostly notifications. Mostly work. Then he noticed the comment. A profile picture he didn’t recognize. One sentence. ‘Beautiful work. It feels like it has a heartbeat”. He stopped walking. Read it again. Heartbeat.  Of all; the things people said about buildings, nobody had ever said that. He clicked on her profile  Magazine editor. Painter. Volunteer. A woman standing beside a lake in half her photographs. He scrolled longer than he intended. Something about her page felt calm. Intentional. Like someone who knew exactly who she was. That was rare. He Stared at the comment once more before typing: ‘That’s the first time anyone’s called concrete alive.” Then he locked his phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat. Conversation over. At least that’s what he assumed. Yet during the drive home, he found himself wondering if she’d answer. And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that annoyed him. Later that night, Bella stood barefoot in her kitchen baking blueberry muffins for Pantry donation she delivered every Friday. Music played softly from a speaker. Flour dusted the counter. The familiar routine usually settled her mind. Tonight it didn’t  Her Phone lit up. She glanced at it. Then froze Adrien had replied. A ridiculous amount of warmth spread through her chest for something so small. She immediately rolled her eyes atherself. ‘You’re thirty-three years old.” Still. She smiled. And for the first time, she wondered what kind of man noticed a stranger’scomment after a day like his.   The next morning arrived too quickly. Bella stared at her tea maker kike it had personally betrayed her.  Three hours of sleep. Maybe four. Definitely Not enough. Her Phone sat face down on the counter. Which was a mistake. Because she kept wanting to flip over. Not because she expected a message. Just because …. Well. Maybe she hoped there would be one. The distinction mattered. At least that’s what she told herself. A sharp Knock interrupted her thoughts. Three quick taps Then the door opened Without Permission. Because apparently locks and boundaries were merely suggestions. ‘Grand Rising’ Bella groaned. ‘Miss Marlie.’ The older woman stepped inside carrying a container covered in aluminum foil. ‘I made doubles.” Bella immediately forgave the intrusion. ‘You’re my favorite Person.” ‘I Know.’ Miss Marlie handed over the container before narrowing her eyes. Then she froze. Bella recognized that look. And immediately became nervous. ‘Oh no’ ‘Oh Yes. ‘What?’ The older woman pointed dramatically. ‘Why are you smiling at your kitchen counter? Bella blinked ‘What?’ ‘Exactly.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Miss Marie gasped. The dramatic Kind. The kind is usually reserved for soap operas. ‘There’s a man.’ Bella nearly choked on her tea. ‘There is not.’ ‘There’s always a man.’ There literally isn’t.’ The older woman folded her arms. ‘You’ve been single for two years” Bella sighed. Already exhausted. ‘This conversation feels familiar.’ ‘Because I care.’ ‘This feels like interrogation.’ ‘Those are not mutually exclusive.’ Ten minutes later. Bella found herself losing the argument. Mainly because Miss Marlie never actually participated in arguments. She simply declared herself the winner. ‘You’ve got that look.’ ‘What look? ‘The one you had before Michael.’ Bella Immediately frowned. That got her attention. Michael. Her ex. Eight years together. Two years apart. A chapter she had finally stopped rereading in her mind. Mostly. The older woman softened. ‘I’m not saying you’re in love.’ ‘Good.’ I’m saying you’re interested.’ Bella opened her mouth. Then closed it. Which Unfortunately was answer enough. Miss Marlie Pointed triumphantly. “Aha! I hate it when you do that.’