This Isn't About Him Novels & Stories

I murmured, stepping closer. He didn’t turn immediately. “Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted finally. “Thinking about… tomorrow.” I approached him, resting a hand lightly on his arm. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” He exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping just a fraction. “I suppose I am. Not in the usual way, though. It’s… different.” I tilted my head, sensing the weight in his words. “Different how?” “Because this isn’t about danger. It isn’t about protecting you. Or even surviving. It’s about… letting someone in. Someone I’ve kept at a distance for too long.”

"No involvement in each other's personal decisions. What I do with my career, my living situation, my relationships, my time, none of that is within your remit. And the same applies in reverse." "Agreed." "No expectations about where this leads. We are not building toward anything. We are not using this as a trial run for something else. This is what it is and it doesn't have to become anything more." "Agreed," he said. I waited. He did not say anything else. "That's it," I said. "Those are the rules." "Okay," he said.

By me. But not by him.

“It’s his birthday on Thursday. That’s why I’m calling, just so you know. He’s not big on celebrating his birthday, so I know he would never tell you.” He was right. It never came up, and I never asked. “Thanks for the heads-up.” “My best advice is don’t make it a big deal. He doesn’t like a lot of attention.” “Why is that?” “I don’t know. Probably because his family is dead and his brother hates him. Well, he used to hate him.” My hand moved to my stomach. “Well, he has a family now.”

Choose wisely. My hands shake. This isn't about a merger. This is about something much bigger. And I just became part of it whether I want to or not.

Not this time. Not ever.

Not the sick. Him.

“But right now, it’s not passing.” “You’re overthinking it.” “I’ve tried not to.” “And?” “And it didn’t work.” Silence settles between us. I don’t know what to say to that. “It’s not a breakup,” he adds after a moment. “I’m not ending anything.” “Then what are you doing?” “Taking a step back.” “That’s the same thing.” “It’s not.” “It feels like it is.” “It doesn’t have to.” I let out a breath, dragging my hand over my face.

But it wasn't entirely a lie “It’s not just about him.”

“We? Listen, I enjoyed what we had, but at the end of the day it was never about you. It was about me, my job.” “Your conscience? What about that?” She slurred. He sighed, and then she thought she heard him pour himself a drink. “Lawyers don't bother with things like that.” There was a short paus, and Naya held her breath as we waited. Maybe he'd say something…maybe he'd apologize and tell her this was all a ploy. But he didn't. “I will send your things for you.” He told her, and she felt her body go stiff.