Read Something Started Here :: Chapter 8

Aubrey woke up on Friday already exhausted, which felt deeply unfair. She hadn’t even done anything yet. She literally opened her eyes and her body went, “Nope.” Her pillow had a dent shaped like someone who lost a fight with their own life, which honestly felt accurate.

She dragged herself out of bed, stepped on her own charger, and let out a sound that wasn’t a scream but definitely wasn’t human. Great start. Really strong opening to the day.

She made coffee—bad coffee, because she made it—and burned her tongue again. Second day in a row. At this point she was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against her mouth. She stared at the mug like it betrayed her.

Her phone buzzed.

Of course.

She wasn’t even ready for human interaction, but apparently human interaction was ready for her.

Caleb: Morning. Get some breakfast.

Aubrey stared at the message and sighed. She wasn’t mad. She just… wasn’t emotionally equipped to be encouraged before caffeine.

She texted back:

Aubrey: I’ll try.

Caleb: That means no.

Aubrey: It means maybe.

Caleb: That also means no.

She tossed her phone onto the bed and ignored him.

Two seconds later it buzzed again.

Chase: Are you alive? If not, respond anyway so I know.

Aubrey: ???

Chase: I'm outside your building.

Aubrey blinked at the message. No. Absolutely not. It was too early for his energy. She looked like a disappointed ghost. There was no way she was facing him—

Then the buzzer rang.

She closed her eyes.

“Why,” she whispered.

She shuffled to the intercom. “Yes?”

“It’s me,” Chase said. “Open the door before I start yelling your name and your neighbors hate you.”

“They already hate me.”

“Cool. So we’re not risking anything.”

She buzzed him in and immediately regretted being a decent person.

Thirty seconds later, he was knocking. She opened the door half an inch.

Chase looked at her through the gap. “Wow. You look—”

“Say tired and die.”

“—awake,” he corrected. “You look very awake.”

She opened the door just enough for him to slip inside. He held a paper bag and two drinks like this was a normal Friday morning and not a nightmare.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I brought breakfast.”

“I didn’t ask for breakfast.”

“And yet,” he said, placing the bag on her counter like he owned the place, “breakfast is here.”

Aubrey rubbed her forehead. “Do you ambush all your friends like this?”

“Yes,” he said. “But you’re my favorite ambush.”

She nearly dropped her mug. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m too tired to react properly.”

“Exactly why I said it.”

She groaned, opened the paper bag, and found a breakfast sandwich that smelled so good she almost forgave him for existing.

Almost.

She took a bite and immediately closed her eyes. “God. Fine. Thank you.”

Chase looked smug. “My work here is done.”

“It has barely started,” she said.

She took another bite and pointed her sandwich at him. “I swear, if you tell Caleb you brought me breakfast—”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I won’t,” he said again.

She didn’t believe him for a second.

She grabbed her drink and finally looked at him properly. His hair was a mess in a way that somehow looked intentional. His jacket was half-zipped like he sprinted all the way here. His grin was the same chaotic, too-bright nonsense it always was.

“What?” he asked when he noticed her staring.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it.

After she finished eating, she grabbed her bag and tried to mentally prepare herself for work. It didn’t work. Her soul wasn’t ready. Her soul had left the chat.

She stepped outside with Chase trailing beside her.

“You don’t have to walk me,” she said.

“I know.”

“So why are you walking me?”

“Because you look like you might fall into a hole if left unsupervised.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re barely walking straight.”

“I stepped on a charger earlier.”

“That explains it.”

They reached the corner where Chase usually split off. He stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said. “If you need anything today—anything at all—text me.”

Aubrey sighed. “I’m not going to—”

“Just do it.”

She didn’t promise. She never did.

He tapped her shoulder lightly. “See you later, Collins.”

She watched him leave before heading the rest of the way to her office.

Inside the building, the fluorescent lights felt even more judgmental than usual. People were already typing aggressively. Someone reheated soup at 8:45 a.m., which should be illegal. Her inbox had six new emails from Sandra.

She muttered something that might have been a prayer or a curse—hard to tell which.

She sat at her desk, opened her laptop, and braced herself.

Work hit her immediately. Revisions. More revisions. Requests. Slack messages. A calendar invite for a meeting she absolutely did not want.

By lunch, she was ready to lie on the floor and give up.

She checked her phone.

Caleb: Eat something real.

Aubrey: Stop showing up in my conscience.

Caleb: Not possible.

She rolled her eyes at her screen, but her chest felt warmer than she liked to admit.

She grabbed her coat and stepped outside for air. The cold hit her face instantly, which honestly helped. She walked down the street, not sure where she was going, when she saw someone leaning on a railing near the food truck.

Caleb.

Of course.

He spotted her and straightened up. “Hey,” he said. “Didn’t know you’d be out here.”

“Same,” she said. “I’m escaping.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

She stood next to him. Their shoulders almost touched. Almost.

“You look tired,” Caleb said gently.

“I am tired.”

“You sleep at all?”

“Define sleep.”

He gave her a look. The kind he saved for kids who tried to lie about doing homework.

“Aubrey.”

“Okay, I slept. A little.”

“How little?”

“That’s classified.”

He sighed but didn’t push it.

“You want lunch?” he asked.

She hesitated. “I… brought food.”

“You brought stress,” he corrected.

She laughed under her breath. “Fair.”

They walked toward the food truck anyway. Caleb ordered something simple. Aubrey picked the first thing she saw on the menu. They stood off to the side waiting.

Caleb glanced at her. “Rough morning?”

“That obvious?”

“You walked like someone carrying emotional groceries.”

Aubrey blinked. “What does that even mean?”

“You looked heavy,” he explained. “Not sad. Just… carrying too much.”

Her throat tightened unexpectedly. She looked away.

The food arrived, breaking the moment.

They ate on a nearby bench.

It wasn’t a magical moment. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just… two people eating lunch while trying to survive their day.

And somehow, that helped.

When they finished, Caleb walked with her halfway back to her building.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.