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Chapter 50

last update publish date: 2026-04-08 02:55:58

Maria:

It’s been a month.

The thought comes and settles, not heavy, not urgent. Just there. A quiet fact I can’t ignore even if I don’t want to sit with it.

A month since Noah.

It doesn’t feel like something I lost. That part is clear to me. I made that decision with my eyes open. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t rushed. It was necessary.

Still… it wasn’t simple.

Things like that never are.

I move around my room without thinking too much about what I’m doing, picking up my bag, putting it d
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  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 50

    Maria: It’s been a month. The thought comes and settles, not heavy, not urgent. Just there. A quiet fact I can’t ignore even if I don’t want to sit with it. A month since Noah. It doesn’t feel like something I lost. That part is clear to me. I made that decision with my eyes open. It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t rushed. It was necessary. Still… it wasn’t simple. Things like that never are. I move around my room without thinking too much about what I’m doing, picking up my bag, putting it down again, checking my phone, locking it without reading anything. Restless, but not in a way I can easily name. It’s been a few days. Three. Maybe four. I don’t keep track properly, but I know it hasn’t been long enough for anything to settle into something I can define. The kiss comes back in pieces. Not constantly. Just enough to interrupt the quiet moments. I don’t dwell on it. I don’t avoid it either. I just… let it pass through. It didn’t feel wrong. That’s what stands out. Not e

  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 49

    Daniel: I shouldn’t have done that. The thought is clear. Not loud, not dramatic. Just… there, settled in place like a fact I can’t argue with. I lean back in my chair and stare at nothing in particular, the office still quiet at this hour. The city hasn’t fully started yet. No calls. No interruptions. Just enough silence for my mind to go where it wants. Which, apparently, is back to her. Not everything. I’m not replaying it like a scene. It comes in fragments instead. The way she said my name. The way the conversation shifted without either of us forcing it. The moment I stopped thinking about what would happen next. That part stays. I don’t stop thinking about what happens next. That’s usually the point. And yet, I did. I let it happen. No. That’s not quite right. I chose it. I sit forward, resting my forearms on my knees, hands loosely clasped together. It’s easier to think when I’m not leaning back like I’m trying to relax. I’m not. It wasn’t a mistake. That’s what

  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 48

    Maria: We don’t stay on the balcony much longer after that. Not because anything interrupts us. Nothing does. The night is still loud somewhere behind the doors, people laughing, glasses clinking, voices rising and falling like it’s all part of a script they’ve memorized. But out there, it feels separate. Like we stepped into something that wasn’t meant to last. Daniel says my name once, low, like he’s testing how it sounds now. “Maria.” I look at him, waiting. I don’t even know for what. An explanation, maybe. A correction. Something that puts what just happened into words so I don’t have to sit with it on my own. But he just looks at me for a second, then says, “We should go back.” And just like that, it’s over. Or at least… contained. I nod. It’s easier than asking for more. The walk back inside is quiet. Not awkward exactly, just careful. We move side by side but not touching, like we both agreed without saying it that whatever happened stays where it happened. Inside, e

  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 47

    Maria: For a second, we just stand there. It feels like one of those moments that stretches longer than it should. Not because anything is happening, but because too much already has. He looks at me, and I know. I don’t need him to ask. He knows I heard. I open my mouth, close it, then try again. “I wasn’t trying to listen,” I say, and even to me it sounds a little useless. “I just… didn’t leave when I should have.” It’s not a clean apology. It’s the truth, just not a very flattering version of it. He studies me for a moment, then says, “You were going to find out eventually.” There’s no edge to it. No irritation. That almost makes it worse. I would have preferred if he was annoyed. It would have been easier to respond to. I nod anyway, because there’s nothing else to do with that. The hallway suddenly feels too tight, like we’re both taking up space we don’t know how to move around. “Come with me,” he says. He turns before I answer, and I follow without thinking too much

  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 46

    Maria: The invitation doesn’t try to impress you. It doesn’t need to. Everything about it is quiet. Heavy paper, clean lettering, no extra explanation. Just a date, a location, and a name that already carries enough weight on its own. Rothfield Foundation. Lily turns it over like she’s expecting something hidden on the back. “You know this is not a normal event, right?” “It’s their annual gala,” I say, fastening my earring. “They do it every year.” “Not like this,” she murmurs. “This feels like… I don’t know. Bigger.” I glance at her reflection through the mirror. “You say that about everything.” “I don’t,” she says, sitting up straighter. “This is different. I can feel it.” I don’t argue. Because I felt it too. I just didn’t say it out loud. The venue confirms it. It’s not just expensive. It’s… deliberate. Nothing here is loud, but everything is exact. The lighting, the spacing, even the way people move around the room. It feels less like an event and more like somethin

  • What We Pretended To Be    Chapter 45

    Maria:I don’t think about it the moment I wake up.It comes later. Quietly. In pieces.I’m standing in front of my closet, staring at clothes I’ve worn a hundred times, and for some reason none of them feel right. I pull one out, hold it up, drop it back. Try again. Pause.“I liked you.”It slips in like it’s been waiting.I close my eyes for a second, pressing my lips together. “You’re choosing clothes,” I mutter. “Focus.”I don’t.I pick something random just to get out of the room.—The clinic is busy enough that I should be distracted.I am not.I move through the first appointment easily. The second, I’m halfway through listening before I realize I’ve asked the same question twice.The client doesn’t call it out. She just repeats herself, polite about it. That almost makes it worse.“Sorry,” I say quickly, forcing a small smile. “Long morning.”It isn’t.It’s barely started.I nod along, write things down, finish the appointment like I normally would, but there’s a slight delay

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