"The tequila was long out of your system by the time you sent that text before you headed to mom and dads for breakfast."
I push my plate away, suddenly not hungry. "It doesn't matter how good it was. It was a mistake. One I won't be repeating."
"But what if—"
"There are no what-ifs, Em. He's my coworker now. That's it. Professional boundaries."
She studies me for a long moment. "You know what I think?"
"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."
"I think you're not just angry he left. You're angry that you like him. That for a minute there, you let yourself believe it could be something."
Her words hit too close to home, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. "That's not—"
"Charlie." Her voice softens. "It's okay to admit he hurt your feelings. It's okay to be disappointed."
I stare down at my wine glass. "Fine. He hurt my feelings and I guess I was... disappointed. I thought we had a connection. Clearly, I was wrong."
"Or maybe he got scared," Lily suggests.
I look up at her. "Scared of what?"
"The same thing you're scared of. Being hurt again."
I scoff. "Please. He's not scared of anything. You should've seen him today, all confidence and charm, like the whole thing was just some funny coincidence."
"And you know this based on your extensive five-minute interaction where you refused to let him speak?" Emily raises an eyebrow.
"Bitch, whose side are you on?" I squeak out.
She laughs. "Yours, always. But that doesn't mean I can't call you on your bullshit."
I glare at her, but she doesn't back down.
"Look," she continues, "I'm not saying you should date the guy. I'm not even saying you should forgive him. But maybe there's more to the story than 'he's a jerk who used you for sex.'"
"Like what?"
"I don't know! Maybe he had an emergency. Maybe he panicked. Maybe he's terrible at morning-afters. The point is, you've decided on a narrative without all the facts."
"The fact is he left while I was asleep" I say firmly.
"Yes, and that was a dick move. No argument there." Emily leans forward. "But Charlie, I know you. You're not just angry about that. You're angry because you let your guard down for a night, and now you feel exposed."
Damn it, I hate how well she knows me sometimes. "So what if I am?"
"So nothing. Feel what you feel. But don't pretend it's just about him being unprofessional when it's really about you being afraid of facing those feelings again."
The three of us sit in silence for a moment, her words hanging in the air between us.
"Fine, what am I supposed to do?" I finally ask, hating how small my voice sounds. "I still have to work with him. Every day."
Lily reaches over and squeezes my hand. "You do what you always do. You're professional, you're focused, and you're brill at your job."
"And maybe," Emily adds gently, "you give yourself permission to be human about it. You don't have to pretend it doesn't affect you."
I take another sip of wine, letting their words sink in. "I just... I don't want to be that person, you know? The one who gets all emotional over a one-night stand that apparently meant nothing."
