Him pulling back isn’t about me. It’s about him protecting himself. He's dealing with something he’s not ready to bring to me.
He told me that when life throws something big at him, he needs space first. Needs quiet to sort through it before he could say it out loud.
Not because he doesn’t trust people. But because he doesn’t want to unload something heavy before he understands it himself.
And that feels like Everett.
Careful.
Thoughtful.
The kind of man who doesn’t say things lightly.
I wipe my hands on a towel and slip into my office for a minute.
The small room smells faintly like coffee beans and paper receipts. The hum of the café continues just outside the door.
I closed my eyes for a second. I kept replaying the time we’ve spent together.
Like he respected it.
Like he respected me.
I knew those looks. And they don’t disappear overnight.
I stare at the blinking cursor in the message box.
I type something.
Delete it.
Type it again.
Delete it again.
Finally, I force myself to stop overthinking, which is hard for me to do, and I press send on the last thing I type.
Me:
Hey, ya not gonna lie I’ve been worried and in my head. Is it bad, are you okay?
Everett:
I’m really sorry you’ve been worried, I promise we are good. And I’m okay, no one is hurt or anything. I’m just trying to process everything before I start saying stuff out loud.
Me:
Okay, I get it, I remember you telling me you pull away when you feel overwhelmed. I thought things were weird after the date, after you stayed over.
Everett:
No, not even a little. This is just really shitty timing, that’s all. And trust me, if I could have picked a different time for life to dump on me, I would.
A small smile tugged at my mouth, feeling less worried.
Another text comes though.
Everett:
