I arrived at the office earlier than usual, hoping the quiet would give me a moment to breathe before the storm arrived. But the storm didn’t wait.

Rylan Aiden didn’t have to speak to fill the room. I felt him before I even saw him, sharp air, presence heavy enough to make my chest tighten. My hands trembled slightly as I hung my coat, trying to ignore the memory of last night, the warmth of Felix’s arms still clinging to me like a shield I wasn’t ready to let go of.

Felix was already at his desk, waiting. He didn’t smile, not yet. Just a soft glance, like he knew I needed him to be near. And he stayed there, calm, steady, like a lighthouse when the waves hit.

I told myself to focus on work. Layouts, color swatches, client emails. Anything to keep my mind off him off Rylan.

And then he appeared.

Rylan Aiden, walking through the office like he owned every heartbeat in the room. Head high, suit immaculate, eyes scanning for me first.

When they found me, I felt it the gaze cutting into me, sharp and precise. Cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.

I looked down, pretending to type, pretending not to feel the old pull of fear, shame, and something deeper, something I hadn’t dared to feel since he left.

He spoke to no one else first. Just me.

“Mr. Blake, the Thompson layout.”

I swallowed. “Yes, sir. I’m finalizing the revisions now.”

He leaned slightly over my desk, just close enough for me to smell the faint rain clinging to him, just close enough for my pulse to hammer in my ears.

“Make sure it’s perfect. I won’t accept mistakes.”

I nodded, fingers stiff on the keyboard. I didn’t look up.

Felix hovered nearby, subtle but unwavering. Every time Rylan’s eyes flicked my way, Felix shifted closer a silent shield. And I knew. Rylan noticed too. I saw the tightness in his jaw, the microtremor of irritation he tried to hide behind polite words.

The office hummed with tension, unspoken but palpable. Everyone else seemed to shrink under it, watching, whispering, pretending not to hear the quickened breaths and the tiny clicks of my pen against the desk.

Rylan cleared his throat. “Blake, can I have a word?”

I froze.

Felix’s hand brushed mine briefly. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, and I felt a fragile thread of courage anchor me.

I followed Rylan down the hall, the carpet muffling our steps but doing nothing to dull the electric static in the air. He stopped just outside the conference room, turning to face me, eyes narrowed.

“You’re… close to him, aren’t you?” His voice was low, controlled, but every syllable carried an edge sharp enough to cut.

I stiffened. “Felix?” My voice faltered.

“Yes,” he said, perfectly calm. “He’s…” I swallowed. “…he’s a friend.”

Rylan’s gaze dropped to my hands. “…A friend, huh?” His voice was quiet but heavy, like a warning whispered in a graveyard. “Funny. Looks more like you’re leaning on him.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the old ache, the guilt that had never fully healed. I wanted to tell him to leave, to back off, but the words stuck somewhere between fear and shame.

Rylan took a step closer, too close, the rain from outside clinging to his collar, sharp scent filling my senses. “You always needed someone to protect you, didn’t you, Blake? You always needed… someone.”

I didn’t answer. My throat burned.

He smirked, and it was the cruelest thing half love, half hate, all edge. “And now you’ve got him. Lucky you.”

My chest felt like it was being squeezed. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t like that, that Felix wasn’t… that nothing was what he thought. But the words were too heavy, the truth too fragile.

From behind me, Felix’s presence was steady. I could feel him breathing, waiting. I turned slightly, catching his eyes silent encouragement, silent warning.

Rylan’s smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat. “Careful,” he muttered. “You two look… comfortable together. Don’t let that distract you.”

And then, without another word, he walked away, the faint click of his shoes leaving echoes in the hall long after he disappeared.

I exhaled, a shuddering breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Felix’s hand found mine, fingers warm, grounding.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

He pulled me into a hug, brief but firm. “You’re okay now. You’re safe now. Don’t let him get inside your head.”

I rested my forehead against his shoulder, trying to draw my courage back. The storm outside hadn’t stopped the rain hitting the windows like a heartbeat but inside, with Felix, I felt a small island of calm.

And I knew Rylan wasn’t done.

He’d be back. He always was.
 Not because he hated me. Not just because he was angry.
 Because love and hate had become one in him.

And I was stuck in the middle.