Aubrey’s Friday afternoon went downhill fast. Not in a dramatic, life-ruining kind of way—just the usual steady collapse that happened when her boss remembered she existed.

At one-fifteen, Sandra dropped a stack of papers on her desk like she was slamming down a court order.

“Client wants these adjustments by end of day,” Sandra said.

Aubrey blinked at the stack. “End of—today?”

“Yes. It’s not that much,” Sandra said, already walking away.

It was definitely “that much.” It was always “that much.” Aubrey stared at the papers like maybe they’d rearrange themselves into something less painful. They didn’t. Obviously.

She let out a long, silent scream—the kind that probably shortened her life span—and got to work.

By two-thirty, her eyes hurt.  

By three, her brain hurt.  

By three-fifteen, her soul hurt.

She checked her phone because she needed a distraction before she melted into her chair.

Caleb: Remember to take a break.

Aubrey made a sound halfway between a groan and a whine.

Aubrey: I literally cannot.

Caleb: Five minutes.

Aubrey: No.

Caleb: Three.

Aubrey: Stop negotiating like you're my therapist.

Caleb: Two minutes.

She threw her phone onto her desk, face-down, because apparently he was determined to parent her into wellness.

She continued working until her screen went blurry again. She blinked several times. Nothing. Everything still looked like a watercolor painting made by someone who hated her.

Fine.  

Break time.  

Two minutes. Whatever.

She walked outside the building and leaned against the cold brick wall. The air felt good—sharp, mean, and refreshing in a painful way. She took a deep breath.

Her phone buzzed.

Chase: Don’t kill me, but I might be near your office again.

Aubrey: What do you MEAN “might be.”

Chase: Like… technically I am.

Aubrey: WHY.

Chase: I was bored.

Aubrey: That’s not a reason.

Chase: It absolutely is.

She typed back angrily:

Aubrey: If you show up at my building again—

Before she finished typing, she heard someone say, “Collins!”

She closed her eyes. “No.”

She turned slowly.

Chase was jogging toward her like she summoned him by complaining.

He waved. “Hi!”

“Why are you like this?” she asked.

“Like what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Everywhere.”

Chase shrugged. “Talent?”

She rubbed her temples. “Please tell me you did not come here to bother me.”

“I didn’t.”  

He paused.  

“Not only to bother you.”

She stared at him.

Chase pointed to the drink in his hand. “I brought tea.”

“I already have tea.”

“You have work-tea,” he said. “This is sanity-tea.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but the truth was she kind of needed sanity-tea. Or sanity-anything.

“Fine,” she said, grabbing the cup.

Chase grinned, victorious. “How’s your day?”

“I want to disappear,” she said.

“Cool.” He nodded. “Same.”

She leaned her back against the wall. Chase leaned next to her—not touching, but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him like he was a human space heater who talked too much.

He tilted his head at her. “You okay?”

“No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“You want snacks?”

“…maybe.”

He smirked like he’d won a game he made up himself. “Knew it.”

Before Aubrey could respond, her phone buzzed again.

Caleb: Done with your break?

She made a face at her screen.

Chase peered over. “Is that him?”

“Chase,” she warned.

“What?” he asked, doing the world’s worst imitation of innocence. “I’m just asking.”

She put the phone away before he could comment more.

Chase nudged her shoulder. “You know he cares, right?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Caleb,” he said. “He cares.”

Aubrey opened her mouth to deny it, but her brain refused to lie for her.

Instead, she said, “He’s just nice.”

Chase gave her a look. The kind that said he didn’t believe her for one second.

“I’m serious,” she added.

“Sure,” he said. “And I’m a quiet, reasonable person.”

She sighed. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine.” He stood up straight. “But eventually, we’re gonna have to talk about it.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.”

“No—”

“Collins.”

She shut up.

He smirked, satisfied. “Anyway. Want to walk a bit? You look like you’ve been sitting for twelve years.”

“That’s because I have.”

They walked a block in silence. A comfortable silence, surprisingly. Chase kept his steps loose and casual like he wasn’t trying too hard to match her pace but was definitely matching her pace.

When they looped back toward her office, he stopped.

“Hey,” he said, softer this time. “You’re doing better than you think.”

She didn’t look at him. “I feel like I’m doing terrible.”

“You’re not.”

She swallowed hard. “I should go back inside.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Text me if you need… whatever.”

She didn’t promise, but she didn’t refuse.

She headed back inside.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of revisions, re-revisions, and her boss asking for things that contradicted the last things she asked for. Aubrey answered emails with the emotional energy of a dying plant.

By five-forty-five, everyone else had left.

Of course they had.

She closed her laptop, stretched her neck, and grabbed her coat.

The second she stepped outside, the cold air hit her again—and so did her phone.

Caleb: Are you heading home?

Aubrey: Yeah.

Caleb: You okay?

She stared at the screen longer than she meant to.

Aubrey: Long day.

Caleb: Want company on your walk?

Aubrey froze.

Company.

On her walk.

From Caleb.

Her brain immediately began screaming and whispering at the same time.

She typed:

Aubrey: I don’t want to bother you.

Caleb: You’re not.

Her heartbeat did a weird skip thing.  

Not helpful.  

Not ideal.  

Not allowed.

Aubrey: Okay. I’m at the corner near the bookstore.

Caleb: On my way.

She stuffed her phone in her pocket and tried not to panic.  

Or get flustered.  

Or be aware she looked like a tired raccoon.

Thirty seconds later, she saw him.

Caleb jogged lightly toward her, stopping a few feet away. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up, his hair slightly messy from the wind, and he gave her the kind of smile that felt… steady. Too steady. Dangerous steady.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“You ready to head home?”

“Yeah.”

They started walking.

Not talking.  

Not awkward.  

Just walking.

Aubrey felt her shoulders drop, like her body finally understood it didn’t have to be in battle mode.

After half a block, he glanced at her. “Rough day?”

“You have no idea.”

“I can guess.”

She laughed weakly. “Guess.”

“Your boss dumped three things on you at once.”

“Yes.”

“Then changed her mind halfway.”

“Yes.”

“And pretended this is normal human behavior.”

Aubrey nodded. “One hundred percent accurate.”

Caleb gave a tiny smile, the kind that made something warm hit the back of her chest.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he said quietly.

Her throat tightened again. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

She didn’t answer.

They kept walking until her street came into view.

Caleb slowed slightly. “You okay for the rest of the night?”

“I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the same as okay.”

“Caleb…”

He met her eyes gently. “Text me if you need anything. Even if it’s nothing important.”

Her heart did the skip thing again and she mentally yelled at it.

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Good.”

They stopped outside her building.

Caleb stepped back a little, hands tucked in his pockets. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” she said.

He gave a small nod. “Goodnight, Aubrey.”

“Goodnight.”

She watched him walk away before she went inside.

In the elevator, she finally let her head rest against the wall.

Today was too much.

Too chaotic.  

Too stressful.  

Too emotional in ways she didn’t want to define.

But one thing kept circling in her mind:

Two different people cared about her today.

And she wasn’t sure which part scared her more—

wanting that,

or getting used to it.