"You don't have to do that," Maya said.
"I know." I did it anyway.
The kitchen was small. We kept almost bumping into each other, reaching for the same container, brushing past in the narrow space between the counter and the stove. Each time, I was hyperaware of her. The warmth of her. The way shesmelled—something clean and soft beneath the lingering scent of takeout.
When everything was put away, I was out of excuses to stay.
I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. Maya walked me to the door. We stood there, neither of us moving.
"Thanks for dinner," she said. "You really didn't have to do that."
"I know." I still couldn't explain why I had.
I should go. I knew I should go.
"Can I come see you again?" The words were out before I could stop them.
Maya's expression shifted. Something closed off behind her eyes.
"Shane, I'm not—" She stopped and tried again. "I'm not really in a place to get involved with someone. I don't know if I will be." She took a breath, her eyes dropping to the floor. "And I can't let Zoe get attached to someone who's going to..."
She didn't finish. She didn't have to.
Disappear. Someone who's going to disappear.
It wasn't a rejection. It was a warning. And underneath it, I heard what she was really saying:I've been hurt before. We both have. I can't risk it again.
"What about friends?" I said.
She blinked. "What?"
"Friends. I bring food sometimes. Maybe help with stuff around the apartment. We talk." I kept my voice light, even though my chest felt tight. "No pressure. No expectations. I could use a friend who doesn't know my stats or follow me on Instagram."
She stared at me like she was waiting for the catch. The angle. The thing that would prove I was just like everyone else.
"Just friends," I said again.
A long pause. The muffled bass from Zoe's room. The hum of the refrigerator. The sound of my own heartbeat, louder than it should have been.
"Okay," Maya said finally. "Friends."
It wasn't enthusiastic. It wasn't an invitation. But it wasn't a no, either.
I'd take it.
"Goodnight, Maya."
She smiled. Small, tentative, but real. The kind of smile that reached her eyes and made something shift in my chest.
"Goodnight, Shane."
I catalogued it. The way her voice softened on my name. The way the corners of her mouth lifted. The way she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, the movement pulling her sweater tight across her chest.
I forced myself to look away, to take a step back, to remember that I'd just promised herfriendsand friends didn't stand in doorways thinking about what she'd look like pressed against them.
"Get some sleep," I managed.
"You too."
