Aubrey tried to slip through Wednesday unnoticed. She wanted a quiet day, one without surprises, without emotions, without anyone showing up outside her building with baked goods. A normal day. But the second she woke up, she knew the universe had rejected her request.
Her phone buzzed before she even sat up.
Chase: Stop avoiding me
Chase: I can sense it
Chase: It’s a talent
Aubrey: I’m literally just waking up
Chase: Suspicious
Chase: Anyway
Chase: I have a question
Aubrey: No
Chase: You didn’t even let me ask it
Aubrey: The answer is still no
Chase: Rude
Chase: Meet me later
Chase: You’ll thank me
She threw her phone onto the pillow.
Then it buzzed again.
Caleb: Good morning.
Caleb: If you need a ride later, let me know.
Her chest tightened—not in a bad way, but in a very confusing way. She typed slower this time.
Aubrey: Thanks
Aubrey: I’ll let you know
Caleb: Okay.
Simple. Calm. Nothing dramatic. And yet it made her whole heartbeat tilt sideways.
She got dressed, grabbed a granola bar, and walked to work trying not to think about either of them. She failed.
By the time she reached her desk, her head already hurt.
Sandra walked by, holding coffee and stress like accessories. “Aubrey, I need the layout revisions done by one.”
“It’s eight forty.”
“Yes,” Sandra said, walking away.
Aubrey closed her eyes. “Cool. Great. Love that.”
She worked for an hour, then two, drowning in deadlines, until her phone lit up with an all-caps name.
CHASE TURNER:
Lobby.
She whispered, “Absolutely not.”
She marched outside anyway—fury was a strong motivator.
Chase was in the lobby holding a folded piece of paper.
“What now?” she demanded.
“I need your opinion,” he said.
“No.”
He unfolded the paper.
It was a schedule.
A basketball schedule.
Caleb’s team.
Aubrey blinked. “What is this?”
“So you stop pretending you don’t care,” Chase said. “Pick a game.”
“What?”
“Pick a game to go to.”
“I’m not—Chase, I’m not doing this.”
“You should,” he said, softer now. “He would want you there.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trying to get you to show up for things that matter,” he said. “For once.”
She stared at the schedule like it was written in another language.
“I’m leaving,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to do.
He didn’t stop her. But he said, “Collins.”
She turned.
“You know he’s good for you, right?”
Her breath caught.
She left before she had to answer.
Aubrey spent the rest of the morning pretending the schedule didn’t exist. She buried it under a stack of papers, which absolutely did not help because every time she moved, it slid back into view like it was haunting her on purpose.
At twelve thirty, her phone buzzed again.
Caleb: Outside, if you want to get air.
She hesitated.
Then grabbed her coat and walked out.
He was there—hands in pockets, looking at her like she wasn’t a burden, wasn’t complicated, wasn’t a mess. Just… someone he wanted to see.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Want to walk?”
She nodded.
They walked down the block. Her mind was buzzing with too many thoughts—Chase’s stupid schedule, Caleb’s stupid kindness, her own stupid inability to handle anything.
Caleb slowed. “You seem… somewhere else.”
“I’m everywhere else,” she said.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t push.
He never pushed.
But she felt pressure anyway—not from him, but from herself. From the two different directions her life was being pulled.
When they reached the corner, she stopped walking.
“Caleb,” she said.
He turned.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “I don’t know how to… handle any of this. You. Chase. My brain. All of it.”
He took a breath—not frustrated, not tired. Just patient.
“I know,” he said.
“I feel like I keep hurting one of you.”
“You’re not.”
“It feels like I am.”
“Aubrey,” he said gently, “you can’t hurt me by being honest.”
Her throat tightened.
“That’s the thing,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to be.”
He stepped closer—not touching, but close enough she could feel him there.
“You’re trying,” he said. “That’s enough.”
She exhaled, shaky.
Then—of course—her phone buzzed.
Chase: Don’t freak out
Chase: But I told him
Aubrey froze.
Caleb watched her expression shift. “What’s wrong?”
She opened the message.
Chase: I told him you liked him
Her heart stopped.
She read it again, hoping it would change.
It didn’t.
“Everything okay?” Caleb asked.
“No,” she whispered.
He frowned. “What happened?”
She turned the phone so he could see.
He read it.
Blinking once.
Then again.
He lifted his head slowly.
“Aubrey…” he said, voice softer than she expected.
“I didn’t—” she started, panicked.
“You don’t have to explain,” he said.
Which somehow made it worse.
“I’m going to kill him,” she muttered.
Caleb almost smiled. “Please don’t.”
She covered her face. “This is a disaster.”
“It’s not,” he said.
“It is.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes.
He didn’t look shocked.
He didn’t look upset.
He looked… steady.
“Aubrey,” he said quietly. “If you do like me… that’s okay.”
Her heart did something catastrophic.
“I’m not saying you have to feel anything,” he continued. “I’m just saying… you don’t have to be afraid of it.”
She made a small, broken sound that was absolutely not a word.
Caleb smiled—soft, grounding.
“It’s okay,” he repeated.
She whispered, “I’m going to scream.”
“That’s also okay.”
She stared at him, unable to move, unable to think.
Then she lowered her head into both hands.
“My life is a nightmare,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”
She froze again.
He always said the exact wrong right thing.
And she had no idea what to do with that.
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