He straightens instantly. He’s been pacing—or waiting—or trying to pretend he wasn’t doing either.
“Sophia,” he says softly. “Are you well?”
“I’m okay,” I answer automatically.
The lie tastes bitter.
He studies my face with that unsettling accuracy that makes hiding feel pointless.
“I was just walking,” he adds, though we both know that’s untrue.
We stand here too long. The kind of moment that should tip into honesty if I were built differently.
But I’m built for analysis. For pattern recognition. For assembling data until it tells a story safe enough to believe.
And this—us—is not data.
Then something in his face shifts—not anger, but decision.
“Sophia,” he says quietly. “I will not push. But I need to know: do you want me to stay away? Or do you want me close while you work through… whatever this is?”
His directness cuts through my spiral.
He’s not asking what’s wrong. He’s asking what I need.
That kindness nearly undoes me.
“I need a few days,” I manage. “To think. To sort something out. It’s not about you… or about us. But I need to figure out how to handle it before I can…” I gesture helplessly between us.
His jaw works. “You can tell me anything. You know this.”
“I know. I just… not yet. Please.”
The silence stretches. I can see him processing, deciding whether to push.
Finally, he nods. “Three days,” he says. “Then I ask again.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“But Sophia—” He waits until I meet his eyes. “If you need me, even while taking space, you call. Yes?”
“Yes.”
He reaches out, carefully, and brushes his knuckles against mine. Once. Then he steps back.
“Three days,” he repeats.
Finally, he nods, careful and restrained, as if any sudden motion might fracture something already fragile.
The next morning, the quiet has changed texture.
Not absence. Presence.
Something unsaid has taken up residence between us, and it moves with us now.
We spend the morning in Conference Room B, going over the latest healing-technique notes. Or trying to.
Normally, our sessions have an easy rhythm—question, answer, demonstration, insight. His explanations are precise. My questions sharpen the focus. Our synergy is effortless.
