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“My car is here,” he murmurs. “I have to get back to the office.”

“I’ll stay on the line with you as long as you want,” I whisper. “Even if we don’t talk. I’m here.”

He’s quiet for a moment. I think he’s standing up. I imagine him dusting himself off, running a hand through his hair to tame it.

“You make it hard to keep my distance,” he says, his voice thick.

The words slip under my skin. Warm and electric.

“Then maybe,” I say softly. “You should stop trying.”

He doesn’t say anything else. But I hear him breathe. Slow, steady.

And it feels like something between us has shifted.

Later that night, I can’t sleep.

It’s not because I’m not tired – I am. After talking to Asher, I spent the next few hours staring at the same blinking cursor. But now, in bed, every time I close my eyes I think of him. Of his voice. Of how raw he sounded on the phone, like something inside of him had cracked wide open.

And he let me see it.

The wind is whipping around outside, making the lighthouse groan in a way I’m starting to get used to. But it’s not the weather that’s keeping me up.

It’s him.

I haven’t heard from him since he arrived at the office, and I’m worried about him. Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I grab my phone and pull up his name, my fingers quickly typing out a message.

Hey. Just checking in. Are you okay? – Francie

The dots appear almost instantly. Then disappear, before they finally come back again.

I’m fine. Just got back to my apartment and took a shower. Been a long day. – Asher

His third floor apartment. Easily reachable by taking the stairs. Which explains everything to me now. Another message appears.

I’m sorry about earlier. It was a bad time. It won’t happen again. – Asher

And just like that, I can feel him pulling away. Slipping back into the cold, buttoned up version of him that keeps everybody at a distance.

I stare at the message. Then I type my reply before I can overthink it.

You don’t have to do that, you know. – Francie

Do what? – Asher

My chest feels tight.

Pretend like it didn’t mean something. It did. To me at least. – Francie

It feels awkward, putting myself out there. But I can’t criticize him for being closed up if I’m doing the same thing. There’s a long pause, where I’m second guessing all of my decisions. And then.

It meant something to me too. – Asher

I swallow hard, my skin prickling. Six words, yet it feels like I just won something I didn’t even know I was competing for.

What you said earlier. About me making it hard for you to keep your distance. Were you just saying that because you were shaken up? – Francie

The seconds stretch.