The Space Between

The room had grown quieter.

Not silent—Malik was still talking—but quieter in the way a room feels when something shifts underneath the surface. Like the air itself had started paying attention.

Imani nodded at something he said, though she hadn’t really heard him. She was aware of other things now.

The soft hum of the ceiling fan.

The faint bass of music drifting from a neighbor’s apartment.

The warmth of Zariah’s leg beside hers.

Not touching.

Just close enough to notice.

She told herself she was imagining it. That she was being dramatic. That she was reading too much into nothing.

Then Zariah shifted.

It was a small movement—just crossing her legs—but her knee brushed Imani’s thigh as she did it.

Light. Brief.

Electric.

Imani’s breath stuttered before she could stop it.

Zariah didn’t apologize.

She didn’t move away either.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly, eyes sliding toward Imani’s face like she was checking for a reaction. Not bold. Not shy. Just… aware.

Imani held her gaze.

Something unspoken passed between them again.

Malik’s voice faded into the background.

“Are you always this quiet?” Zariah asked softly.

Imani blinked. “I’m not quiet.”

Zariah’s lips curved faintly. “You are tonight.”

“That’s because I don’t know you yet.”

“That can change.”

The way she said it made the words feel like more than conversation.

Imani’s fingers curled slightly in her lap. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Her tone wasn’t cocky.

It was certain.

A warmth spread low in Imani’s chest, surprising her with its intensity. She wasn’t used to being looked at like this—not studied, not admired, not like someone was slowly learning her without touching her.

Malik stood. “I’m gonna grab us something to drink.”

Neither woman looked at him.

“Y’all good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Imani said.

“Mm-hmm,” Zariah added.

He disappeared toward the kitchen.

The moment he was out of sight, the air changed.

Not dramatically.

Subtly.

Like a door had closed somewhere.

Zariah leaned a little closer—not invading, just enough that Imani could see the tiny gold flecks in her eyes.

“You nervous?” she asked.

Imani swallowed. “No.”

Zariah raised a brow.

Imani exhaled softly. “Maybe a little.”

“That’s normal.”

Her voice had dropped lower now, almost private.

Imani’s gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes before she could stop herself.

Zariah noticed.

Her smile deepened—slow, patient, knowing.

“You don’t gotta be,” she murmured.

Imani’s pulse thudded.

There was something disarming about her calm. No rush. No pressure. Just presence. Like she had all the time in the world and already knew how this night would unfold.

“You’re very confident,” Imani said.

“Not always.”

“No?”

Zariah shook her head slightly. One braid slipped forward over her shoulder. “Just when I’m sure about something.”

“And what are you sure about right now?”

Her answer came without hesitation.

“That you’re trying not to stare at me.”

Heat bloomed across Imani’s cheeks.

“I’m not staring,” she said quickly.

Zariah leaned closer.

Not touching.

Just close enough that Imani could feel her breath.

“You are,” she whispered.

Imani’s chest rose slowly.

The space between them had shrunk to inches now.

Not an accident.

Not coincidence.

Choice.

Her heart was beating hard enough she was sure Zariah could see it through her dress. She didn’t move back. Didn’t lean forward either.

She just stayed.

Suspended.

Curious.

Drawn.

From the kitchen came the faint clink of glasses.

Reality.

Reminder.

Husband.

Marriage.

Rules.

But Zariah was still there, eyes soft, steady, searching Imani’s face like she was reading something written only for her.

“You can relax,” she said gently. “I don’t bite.”

A small pause.

Then, quieter—

“Unless you ask.”

Imani’s breath caught again.

Something inside her—something careful, controlled, responsible—shifted slightly out of place.

Not broken.

Just… loosened.

Footsteps approached.

Zariah leaned back just as Malik returned, handing them drinks like nothing in the room had changed.

But Imani knew better.

Because her skin was still warm where Zariah had been close.

And her thoughts…

Her thoughts weren’t calm anymore.

They were curious.