ログインHome was supposed to be my escape. It had always been. A place where things made sense. Where I didn’t have to think about anything beyond what was right in front of me. Simple. Quiet. Controlled. But tonight… none of that worked. I dropped my bag on the couch and kicked off my heels, exhaling as I ran a hand through my hair. Silence filled the apartment. Normally comforting. Now, unsettling. Because the quiet didn’t clear my mind. It amplified it. Every word. Every look. Every moment I had tried to brush off. “You feel it.” I closed my eyes briefly. No. I wasn’t doing this. I walked to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water like that would somehow reset everything. It didn’t. Nothing did. I leaned against the counter, staring ahead. What was happening to me? I had dealt with pressure before. Handled complicated situations. Maintained control when things tried to spiral. That was who I was. So why… why did this feel different? Why did it feel like s
By midday, I had already read the same document three times. And retained almost nothing. That alone was enough to irritate me. I didn’t get distracted. I didn’t lose focus. That wasn’t who I was. And yet… here I was. Staring at numbers that blurred together because my mind refused to stay where it should. “Ava.” I looked up, already knowing. Lila stood there, arms crossed, expression knowing. “You’ve been on that same page for ten minutes.” “I’m reviewing it.” “You’re staring at it.” “I’m thinking.” “You’re spiraling.” I sighed, leaning back slightly. “Can you not diagnose me right now?” “I can if it’s accurate.” “I’m fine.” “You’re not fine.” “I’m working.” “You’re distracted.” “That’s temporary.” She tilted her head slightly. “Is it?” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Did something happen in his office?” “No.” “Ava.” “It was work.” “That’s not what I asked.” I closed the fil
I didn’t sleep well. Again. It was becoming a pattern I didn’t want to acknowledge. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind replayed the same thing… His voice. His words. Be careful about what you’re pretending not to feel. I turned in bed, exhaling sharply. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t pretending anything. I just knew better. That was the difference. By morning, I was already tired. Not physically, mentally. And that made everything harder. I got ready in silence, choosing something simple, clean, controlled. No room for distraction. No room for error. By the time I arrived at the office, I had already made a decision. Distance. That was the only solution. No unnecessary conversations. No private meetings. Strictly work. Nothing else. It was simple. It had to be. “Ava, you look like you fought someone in your sleep.” I glanced at Lila as I set my bag down. “I’m fine.” “You say that every time you’re not fine.” “I just didn’t sleep wel
The office felt different after the morning meeting. Not in a way anyone else would notice. But I did. Because I was trying too hard not to. I stayed at my desk longer than usual, reviewing documents that didn’t need reviewing, replying to emails that could have waited. Anything to keep myself anchored. Focused. Untouched. Unaffected. “Ava.” I looked up. Lila again. Of course. “You survived the early meeting,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me without asking. “Barely.” “That bad?” “No. Just… long.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And?” “And what?” “And you’re avoiding something.” “I’m working.” “You’re deflecting.” I sighed softly, closing the file in front of me. “What do you want, Lila?” “The truth.” “You can’t always have that.” “I usually do.” A pause. “Did something happen this morning?” I hesitated. Then shook my head. “Nothing important.” “Which means something definitely happened.” “It was just a meeting.”
By the time I got home, my mind was already preparing for tomorrow. 8 a.m. meeting. Early. Too early. But necessary. I set my bag down, slipped off my shoes, and headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the tension of the day. Or at least. That was the plan. But even standing there, eyes closed, trying to relax… my thoughts drifted back to him. Again. That steady voice. That look. The way he said my name like it meant something more than it should. I opened my eyes, exhaling sharply. No. This had to stop. I wasn’t going to let this turn into something complicated. I stepped out of the shower, got dressed, and forced myself into a routine, dinner, a bit of work review, then bed. Simple. Controlled. By the time I finally lay down, I was exhausted enough that sleep came quickly. But not peacefully. Because even in sleep, there was no real escape. The next morning came too fast. My alarm rang, and I groaned softly, reaching out to silence it
The rest of the day passed in a strange kind of tension. Not loud. Not obvious. But constant. Like something just beneath the surface, waiting. I kept my focus where it belonged, on my work, on deadlines, on anything that didn’t require me to think about him. And for the most part, it worked. Until it didn’t. “Ava, you’re doing it again.” I looked up from my screen. “Doing what?” Lila leaned against the edge of my desk, arms crossed, watching me too closely. “Thinking too hard.” “I’m working.” “No,” she said. “You’re overworking. There’s a difference.” I exhaled quietly. “I have deadlines.” “You always have deadlines.” “And I always meet them.” “That’s not the point.” I leaned back slightly in my chair. “Then what is?” Her gaze sharpened just a little. “You’ve been off all day.” “I’m fine.” “You’re not.” I didn’t respond. Because arguing with Lila when she got like this was pointless. She tilted her head slightly. “Did something happen?” I hesitated. Just f







