All Chapters of ALMOST PERFECT : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Grey got home with sore feet, a stiff neck, and a grin he couldn’t quite explain.He unlocked the door quietly out of habit, then immediately remembered there was no reason to be quiet anymore. This wasn’t some temporary place he passed through. This was home. Even if it was small. Even if the floor creaked. Even if the couch leaned slightly to the left like it had given up arguing.“I’m home,” he called out.There was a pause. Then—“Define home,” Lisa’s voice answered from the kitchen. “Because if you mean the place where the smoke alarm almost betrayed me, then yes. You’re home.”Grey laughed before he even stepped fully inside.He dropped his bag by the door and followed the sound of her voice. She was standing at the stove, one hand on her hip, the other stirring something with the confidence of someone improvising wildly and hoping for the best.“Should I be afraid?” he asked.She turned her head just enough to give him a look. “Only if you don’t like creativity.”“That depends.

By the next week, Grey had learned how the office breathed when Evelyn was around.The clicks of her heels didn’t blend into background noise; they orchestrated it. Even the tapping keyboards seemed to sync unconsciously to her rhythm.She’d been gone for two days on some client visit. When she returned that morning, the air shifted again—like the temperature had gone up just enough for people to notice.Grey didn’t have to look to know she was there. He felt her entrance in the hushed pause that always followed.But he looked anyway. Against his better judgment.Her outfit today wasn’t loud. That was never her way. It was precise: dark tailored trousers, a deep moss-green blouse that caught the light and somehow looked expensive without trying. A necklace glimmered faintly at her throat—thin gold, a single small pendant.It was enough to suggest intention.She knows, he thought. She knows exactly what she’s doing.Their eyes met across the open floor. Hers held a kind of curiosity—ha

The elevator doors slid open on the fifth floor, and Grey stepped out into the familiar hum of fluorescent lights and keyboard clatter. Three months into the job, the place still smelled the same–recycled air, instant coffee, and the faint metallic tang of anxiety from someone, somewhere, missing a deadline.He made his way to his desk, nodding at Patricia from Accounting, who was already on her second coffee and looked like she might need a third. His corner spot wasn't fancy, but it had a window. That felt like luxury.Grey had noticed changes in himself lately. Not dramatic ones–nothing that would stop traffic but enough that people saw it. The dark circles under his eyes had faded. His shoulders sat lower, less hunched under invisible weight. He'd bought new shirts the week before, ones that actually fit instead of hanging off him like apologies. Lisa had insisted, pulling him through a shop with the determination of a woman on a mission."You walk differently now," she'd said. "Y

The scent of roses lingered in the apartment long after Evelyn left, a sweet, persistent ghost that seemed to follow Grey from room to room. He tried to shake it–opened windows, brewed strong coffee, but it clung to the air, a perfumed reminder of the disruption.Lisa noticed. She moved through the rest of the morning with a quiet thoughtfulness, her usual easy chatter replaced by soft silences. She arranged the flowers in a tall glass vase, placing them prominently on the dining table where they glowed like something from another world.“They really are beautiful,” she said, running a finger along a petal. “Must have cost a fortune.”Grey nodded, not trusting his voice. He busied himself with the half-built changing table, the instructions suddenly confusing in his hands.“She’s very… put together,” Lisa continued, her tone carefully neutral. “For a Saturday morning gallery hop.”“Evelyn’s always put together,” Grey said, forcing a lightness he didn’t feel. “It’s part of her brand.”

The silence in the apartment was a physical presence, thick and accusing, pressing down on Grey from all sides. He sat on the floor beside the couch, his back against the worn fabric, his head cradled in his hands. The only sounds were Lisa’s steady, sleeping breath and the frantic, runaway rhythm of his own heart, a drumbeat of guilt echoing in the stillness.He could still feel it. The phantom press of Evelyn’s lips, soft yet demanding. The searing heat of her hand slipping past his waistband, a touch so intimate it felt like a violation now. The shocking, electric connection that had, for a few disastrous minutes, made him forget every single thing that mattered. The memory was a brand, seared into him, and with every agonizing replay, the shame burned deeper, etching itself onto his bones.He had done the one thing he swore he never would. He had betrayed the one person who had stood by him, who had believed in him when he was nothing but potential and empty pockets. He had traded