Aubrey barely slept. Her brain kept replaying the same three disasters: Chase telling Caleb she liked him, Caleb not freaking out about it, and herself failing to produce a single coherent sentence afterward. She stayed awake staring at the ceiling, whispering to nobody, “I’m so screwed,” at least twelve times.

By morning, she looked like someone who had fought emotions in a parking lot and lost.

She dragged herself into the kitchen, opened the fridge, stared at nothing, then closed it again. Breakfast wasn’t happening. Functioning wasn’t happening. If she made it through the day without spontaneously combusting, that would count as success.

Her phone buzzed.

Chase: Are you alive  

Chase: Should I send a rescue team  

Chase: I know people  

Chase: Not legally but still

Aubrey: Why did you do that yesterday

Chase: Oh  

Chase: That  

Chase: Because you like him

Aubrey: CHASE

Chase: What  

Chase: I’m right  

Chase: And he deserved to know

Aubrey: YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE THAT FOR ME

There were three dots. Then they disappeared.  

Came back.  

Disappeared again.

Finally:

Chase: Ok  

Chase: You’re right  

Chase: I messed up

She froze.  

He never admitted things that fast.

Aubrey: I’m going to work

Chase: Can we talk later  

Chase: Without you yelling at me  

Chase: Or throwing things

Aubrey: No promises  

Aubrey: But yes

She put her phone in her pocket and headed out before she could spiral again.

Work was loud today—people talking too fast, the office too bright. She reached her desk, sat down, and tried to focus on anything other than her personal life exploding in slow motion.

At 10:12 a.m., another message lit up her screen.

Caleb: Can I see you later?

She pressed her thumb against her phone like she needed physical grounding.

Aubrey: Yes  

Aubrey: After work?

Caleb: I’ll be around.

Her heart did something inconvenient.

The rest of the morning passed in barely-functioning autopilot. She sent the wrong mock-up to the wrong coworker twice, spilled her water bottle, and almost stapled her own sleeve to a packet of client notes.

At lunch, she escaped outside to sit on the steps. She was halfway through biting a granola bar when someone sat next to her.

She didn’t even have to look.  

She knew the energy.

“Don’t yell,” Chase said.

“Don’t give me reasons to yell.”

He nodded. “Fair.”

They sat there, both staring ahead like two strangers waiting for a bus.

After a moment, Chase said quietly, “I shouldn’t have said anything to him.”

“No,” Aubrey said. “You shouldn’t have.”

He swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to ruin your life.”

“It’s not ruined.”

“Feels like it,” he muttered.

Aubrey sighed. The tired kind. “Chase. Why did you actually do it?”

He didn’t answer right away.  

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, tapping his thumbs together—restless in a way that didn’t match his usual confidence.

“I thought…” he started, then stopped.

“Thought what?” she asked.

He breathed out slowly. “I thought he should know because he cares about you. And you care about him. And you don’t say anything when things matter.”

The words landed heavier than she expected.

“And,” Chase added, even quieter, “I didn’t want to watch you pretend forever.”

Aubrey stared at him.

He didn’t look at her.  

He looked at the sidewalk like it had answers.

“Chase,” she said gently, “you can’t fix everything.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Turns out.”

Silence fell again. Not angry. Just… fragile.

After a moment, he said, “He didn’t freak out, did he?”

“No.”

“He took it okay?”

“Too okay,” she muttered.

Chase finally looked at her. “That’s good, Collins.”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Also fair.”

She pulled her knees in, wrapping her arms around them. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know,” he said.

“You always sound like you know everything about me.”

He cracked a small smile. “I don’t. I just pay attention.”

The honesty surprised her.

She wiped her hands on her jeans. “We’ll talk more later. Just… give me today, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

She stood. He didn’t follow this time.  

It felt strange.

The afternoon passed in slow-motion anxiety. She reread the same email three times and still didn’t understand it. She nearly walked into a filing cabinet. Twice.

At five, she stepped outside, the air cold enough to sting. And then she saw him.

Caleb.  

Standing near the corner, hands in his pockets.  

Waiting for her like it was the easiest decision in the world.

Her stomach twisted—nervous, relieved, overwhelmed.

She walked toward him.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey,” he said, warm.

“You waited.”

“I said I would.”

She swallowed. “We should… talk.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We should.”

They started walking.  

A quiet street, a slow pace, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

She stopped first.

“Caleb,” she said, voice softer than she expected. “About what Chase said—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I think I do.”

He turned to face her fully.

She felt her pulse in her throat.

“I didn’t want it to come out like that,” she said. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured. Or weird. Or like you owe me anything.”

“I don’t,” he said.

“I know.”  

She inhaled. “But it’s still important you know I didn’t choose the timing.”

His voice lowered. “But you’re not saying it’s not true.”

Her breath caught.

She didn’t answer.

He didn’t rush her.  

He waited.

And she finally whispered, “No. I’m not saying that.”

Something changed in his expression—not shock, not victory, not relief. Something quieter. Something real.

He nodded once. “Okay.”

Just that.  

Okay.  

Like it was allowed to exist.

Aubrey let out a breath she’d been holding for days.

“Caleb…” she said, unsure what came next.

He stepped a little closer—not touching, not assuming, just closer.

“I’m here,” he said, soft but steady. “Whatever you’re ready for.”

Her heart cracked and rebuilt itself in the same second.

She whispered, “This is terrifying.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t want to run away from it.”

“Good,” he said.

Her eyes burned—not from crying, but from everything inside her being too full.

Caleb didn’t move farther.  

He didn’t push.  

He didn’t ask for anything.

He just stayed.

And she realized for the first time—

she wanted him to stay.