Page 87 of Between Here and There

“No doubt she is,” Joshua says, smiling, but there’s an unmistakable challenge in his eyes.

“Okay, sorry about that, David” I cut in, waving my hands between them like I’m warding off a duel. “Could you excuse us?”

David nods, “Sure,” he says.

I gesture for Joshua to follow me in the employee break room. The moment the door swings shut, I turn to Joshua. “Really? What was that?”

Joshua tilts his head, acting like he’s completely oblivious. “What was what?” he asks, the feigned innocence dripping from his tone like he’s completely unaware of what just happened.

I cross my arms, my patience thinning. “You’re scaring him off,” I say, almost exasperated. “You know, you have that effect on people sometimes. One second, they’re all fine, and then—boom—you show up, and suddenly they’re intimidated.”

“Dramatic,” he says with a shrug, though I can tell he’s enjoying this a little too much. “I’m not scaring him off.”

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Okay, Joshua, really, what are you doing here?” I ask, suddenly tired of this game we’re playing. “We agreed to be friends. We can’t be what each other wants, so why are you trying to be so… so annoyingly irresistible right now?” I say it almost as a challenge, trying to keep my voice steady, though I can feel my heart skip a beat.

I half expect him to tease me, to throw that smug grin of his back at me and make a joke about how I’m just making things more complicated. But instead, his expression shifts. He looks down for a second, a brief flicker of something I can’t quite place crossing his face—something softer, maybe even vulnerable, that makes my stomach twist in a way I don’t want to acknowledge.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, and the words throw me off completely. There’s no teasing this time, no joke. He doesn’t look like he’s having fun. He looks almost… serious?

I blink, surprised at the sudden change in tone. For a moment, I don’t know how to respond, my mind scrambling to process what just happened. This isn’t how I imagined this conversation would go.

“You’re sorry?”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to explain himself, but then he presses his lips together, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard sometimes, you know?” His voice is quieter now, more reflective. “It’s hard pretending that what we agreed on is enough, when… when I don’t want to just be your friend.” He looks me in the eye, and there’s something there. Something different. Something real.

The words hang in the air between us, and my breath catches in my throat. Did he just—?

No, he couldn’t possibly mean–?

“I’m going home. I’m sorry again, you don’t deserve to be interrupted like that,” he says. “If you’re enjoying your time with David, I shouldn’t have done that.”

The air between us thickens, and I feel like I might drown in it. I want to be angry; I want to scream at him for messing everything up and for making me feel this... unsettled. But instead, all I can do is stand there, completely unsure of what to say next.

“I should go,” he says again, more softly this time. “I’m sorry again.” He walks past me and toward the door.

Before I can stop myself, I turn, my voice trembling a little. “Joshua, wait—”

But he’s already gone, the door swinging shut behind him with a finality that makes my chest tighten.

I stand there in the silence that follows, the weight of his confession pressing down on me.

What the hell just happened?

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Joshua

Ishould really start thinking about what I’m about to say before I say them. But thinking requires energy, and I barely have enough of that to keep my head upright.

I try to take a sip of soup, but the spoon feels heavier than it should. My arms give up halfway, and I set it down with a groan, leaning onto the counter for support. I turn off the heat, not even caring if the soup is done. My head pounds relentlessly, and my whole body aches. I feel hot and cold at the same time, which, as it turns out, is worse than just one or the other.

I drop into the bar stool, burying my face in my hands. Even my hands feel hot and clammy.

“Oh my gosh, Joshua, what happened to you?” Emily’s voice cuts through the silence, her tone a mix of concern and exasperation.

She drops her bag on the counter and rushes to me, her eyes scanning my face. Whatever she sees must not be good, judging by the way her frown deepens.

“I’m fine,” I manage weakly, which is obviously a lie, given how my voice cracks and I immediately start coughing.

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