Page 9 of The Secrets We Hide

Molly

Lucas’s text message on Saturday had been a quiet confirmation of the internal struggle I knew he was facing. His need to talk, to process the complex emotions that had been stirred, was palpable.

I spent the afternoon catching up on work, a part of my mind still mulling over the intricate dynamic between Lucas and Dominik. Their connection was undeniable, a powerful undercurrent that even their attempts at professional detachment couldn’t completely conceal. My own burgeoning connection with Lucas felt different, grounded in intellectual curiosity and a shared appreciation for honesty.

When Lucas called on Sunday afternoon, his voice held a newfound sense of clarity. He told me about his conversation with Dominik, the tentative steps they had taken towards acknowledging the unexpected feelings between them.

He didn’t offer any grand pronouncements, but there was a sense of honesty and vulnerability in his tone that I appreciated.

“I’m not sure what this all means, Molly,” he admitted. “But I can’t ignore what’s happening with Dominik… and with you.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I asked gently. He hesitated for a moment. “Confused. Scared. But also… intrigued. There’s a part of me that wants to explore this, however unconventional it might be.”

“And where do I fit into this exploration, Lucas?” I asked, needing clarity on my own position. “I value the connection we have, Molly,” he said sincerely. “Your honesty, your directness… it’s refreshing. I enjoy spending time with you. But what I feel for Dominik… it’s a different kind of intensity. One I didn’t see coming.”

His honesty, while perhaps not what I had initially hoped for, was something I respected. I had sensed the deeper connection between him and Dominik from the beginning. My own attraction to Lucas was genuine, but I wasn’t blind to the powerful undercurrent that flowed between the two men.

“Thank you for being honest, Lucas,” I said. “It takes courage to confront feelings like that.”

“It’s terrifying,” he admitted with a wry chuckle. “But I know I can’t keep pretending it’s not happening.”

As we ended the call, I felt a sense of… acceptance. My connection with Lucas was real, but it was clear that the unexpected spark between him and Dominik had ignited a flame that couldn’t be easily extinguished. The path ahead was still uncertain, and the potential for complications was high. But there was also a sense of possibility, a chance to explore a different kind of relationship, one that defied conventional boundaries and embraced the messy, unpredictable nature of human desire. And honestly? I was still intrigued to see where this unconventional journey would lead.

Chapter 8

Lucas

The following week at Blackwood Architects was a study in careful navigation. Dominik and I had established a fragile truce, a tentative acknowledgment of the unexpected feelings that had surfaced between us. The suffocating silence had lifted, replaced by cautious conversations, stolen glances, and a palpable undercurrent of nervous anticipation.

We started having lunch together again, the easy camaraderie slowly returning, albeit tinged with a new layer of intimacy. We talked about work, about our lives outside the office, carefully avoiding any direct discussion of “us.” It was a delicate dance, a mutual tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, but it was a start.

One afternoon, while working late on a particularly demanding project, Dominik lingered in my office after everyone else had left. The city lights twinkled outside, casting long shadows across the blueprints spread across my desk.

“Lucas,” he began, his voice hesitant. “About… the other night…”

I looked up, my heart doing a nervous little flutter. “Yes?”

He shifted his weight, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere over my shoulder. “I… I enjoyed it. More than I expected.”

A wave of warmth washed over me at his admission. “Me too, Dominik.”

A small, shy smile touched his lips. “Maybe… maybe we could… talk more about it? Outside of work?”

The invitation hung in the air, tentative yet full of possibility. “I’d like that,” I replied, my own smile mirroring his. We made plans for dinner that Friday, a quiet Italian place in the North End. It felt like a first date, filled with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. The days leading up to it crawled by, each

stolen glance across the office, each brief exchange, charged with a new level of meaning.

My interactions with Molly remained friendly, albeit with a subtle shift in dynamic. We still met for drinks occasionally, our conversations now centered on the complexities of my evolving feelings. She was surprisingly understanding, offering insightful perspectives without any hint of jealousy or resentment. Her directness, as always, was refreshing. “You have a connection with him, Lucas,” she had said during our last conversation. “A strong one. Don’t let fear hold you back from exploring it.”

Her words echoed my own internal struggle. Fear had been a constant companion for so long, a shield against the potential pain of vulnerability. But the unexpected connection with Dominik had chipped away at that shield, revealing a longing I could no longer ignore.

Friday evening arrived with a nervous energy. I found myself scrutinizing my reflection in the mirror, a feeling I hadn’t experienced since my early twenties. The restaurant was cozy and intimate, the aroma of garlic and basil filling the air.

Dominik was already there when I arrived, his dark eyes meeting mine across the crowded room. A genuine smile lit up his face, a smile that reached his eyes and sent a nervous flutter through my chest.

As I walked towards him, I knew, with a certainty that surprised even myself, that I was ready to explore this uncharted territory, to embrace the messy, unpredictable possibility of something real with Dominik.

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