The next few days felt like a blur.
Jason was still as sweet as ever—always checking in on me, always trying to make up for whatever he thought he'd done wrong. He cooked, he cleaned, he bought me flowers. It was like he was trying to convince me everything was fine, that we were okay.
But I wasn't fine.
Every time I saw Ethan, my pulse quickened.
Every time our eyes locked, a new wave of heat washed over me. And I couldn't deny it anymore. Something was happening between us. Something that neither of us had control over.
At work, Ethan kept his distance, but he was always there—lingering in the background, watching me with those intense, dark eyes that made my heart skip. It was as though he knew what I was feeling, even when I didn't.
Then came the night that changed everything.
I was out with Jason, having dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. He was talking about his day, but I barely heard him. My mind kept drifting to Ethan. And to the way he looked at me that morning. Like he wanted something—something more than just a passing glance.
Halfway through dinner, Jason went to the bathroom. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and when I looked, it was a message from Ethan:
"I'll be at the office late tonight. Want to grab a drink after?"
My heart pounded.
I quickly typed back:
"I'm with Jason."
But the message from Ethan didn't stop coming. He replied:
"I know. But maybe we should talk. Just the two of us. About… everything."
The words hung in the air like a challenge.
I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to push it away. But my thumb hovered over the keyboard, the words I wanted to send not coming.
Jason returned to the table, and I quickly shoved my phone back in my purse, trying to act normal.
But I couldn't stop thinking about Ethan. About what he wanted. About what I wanted.