The rain started again that evening.
Not the soft kind that whispered against windows, but heavy drops that hit the glass with purpose, like the sky itself was restless.
Lena noticed it first.
She stood by the office window, watching the city blur beneath the falling rain, her reflection staring back at her. Her heart felt unsettled. Ever since the stairwell moment, something had shifted inside her. Ethan's words replayed in her mind, over and over.
You're not replaceable. Not to me.
She pressed her lips together, trying to push the thought away.
But it stayed.
Ethan found her there minutes later.
"You didn't go home," he said softly.
She turned, startled. "Neither did you."
He smiled faintly. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Lena hesitated, then nodded. "I am. Just… thinking."
The office was almost empty. Most lights were off, leaving only the glow from desk lamps and the city beyond the windows. The silence felt intimate, like the building was holding its breath.
"I don't usually let things get to me," Lena said after a moment. "But today felt… heavy."
Ethan stepped closer, careful, slow. "Vanessa crossed a line."
"She's not wrong," Lena replied quietly. "People talk. They always will."
"Let them," he said. "They don't know you."
Her gaze lifted to his, searching. "Do you?"
He swallowed. "I'm trying to."
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Lena hugged her arms. "I should leave before it gets worse."
Ethan glanced at the rain. "You'll get soaked."
She shrugged. "I don't have a choice."
He hesitated, then spoke. "You can wait it out. With me."
The invitation hung in the air.
"Okay," she whispered.
They moved to the small lounge area near the window. Ethan handed her his jacket when he noticed her shiver. Their fingers brushed.
Electric.
They both froze.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"It's fine," he replied, though his heart was racing.
Minutes passed. Neither of them spoke.
Lena sat on the couch, knees drawn slightly inward. Ethan sat beside her, close enough to feel her warmth, far enough to keep control.
"You ever feel like you're standing on the edge of something?" she asked suddenly. "Like one wrong step changes everything?"
"Yes," Ethan said without hesitation.
She turned toward him. "Does it scare you?"
"It terrifies me."
Their eyes locked.
The air between them thickened, charged with words unspoken and feelings denied.
"You look at me like you're holding something back," Lena said softly.
Ethan's breath hitched. "Because I am."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What?"
He leaned closer before he could stop himself. "The truth."
Her heart pounded. "Then tell me."
He stopped inches from her lips.
Too close.
Too much.
His hand lifted instinctively, fingers hovering near her cheek, not touching — yet.
"I can't," he said hoarsely.
Lena's breath trembled. "Why?"
"Because once I do," he said, "I won't be able to pretend anymore."
Her lips parted.
She didn't move away.
Thunder cracked loudly, making her flinch. Without thinking, she reached for him.
Ethan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his chest. Her head rested beneath his chin, her heartbeat loud against his ribs.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be," he said, tightening his hold.
For a moment, the world faded.
No company. No lies. No consequences.
Just them.
Lena pulled back slightly, her face inches from his. Her eyes flicked to his mouth, then back to his eyes.
"If this is a mistake," she murmured, "stop me."
Ethan should have stepped away.
He didn't.
He leaned in, slowly, giving her time to pull back.
She didn't.
Their breaths mingled. His nose brushed hers. Her lips hovered just beneath his.
One second.
Two.
His thumb grazed her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Just as his lips were about to touch hers—
A phone rang.
They jumped apart like fire had scorched them.
Ethan cursed under his breath.
Lena stood quickly, breath uneven, cheeks flushed. "I should go."
He reached for her hand, stopping her. "Lena—"
She looked back at him, her eyes shining with confusion and desire.
"We can't pretend that didn't almost happen," she said.
"No," he agreed softly. "We can't."
She pulled her hand free gently. "Then you need to decide what you want."
Before he could respond, she grabbed her bag and walked away.
Ethan stood there long after she left.
The ghost of her warmth lingered on his skin. The almost-kiss burned worse than any rejection.
He ran a hand through his hair.
"This is getting out of control," he muttered.
Because now, it wasn't just about finding love.
It was about not breaking her heart.
And the truth was running out of time.