The following week felt like walking through fog.

  Hanabi’s world had narrowed to her work, her growing unease with Ryan, and the small, comforting presence of Alex. She hated herself for noticing the relief in his attention, for the way her heart beat slightly faster when he asked if she was okay or remembered small details about her day.

  It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it was dangerous—emotional proximity at its most subtle.

  One afternoon, Hanabi stayed late at the office to finish a report. Alex appeared by her desk.

  “You’re working late again,” he said softly, leaning on the partition. His presence was casual, but the way he looked at her carried a weight she couldn’t quite shake.

  “I have to,” she replied, forcing calm.

  He nodded. “I can walk you to your car if you want.”

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  Hanabi hesitated. Normally, she would decline, but tonight she found herself accepting.

  They walked through the quiet streets, lights casting long shadows across the pavement.

  “You don’t have to shoulder everything,” Alex said, almost conversationally. “Sometimes letting someone in isn’t weakness—it’s survival.”

  Hanabi glanced at him. His eyes were steady, reassuring. She wanted to believe him. Not him—just the idea that someone could understand.

  They reached her car. Alex opened the door, letting her slide in first. “Be careful on the road,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, a little too softly.

  For a fraction of a second, their hands brushed as he handed her the folder she had been carrying. A fleeting touch—innocent, unintentional—but it lingered in her mind long after he had left.

  That night, Ryan noticed something different when Hanabi came home. She was quieter than usual, moving through the apartment as if she were trying not to leave traces.

  “Long day?” he asked, hoping for any kind of connection.

  She nodded without meeting his eyes. “Yes.”

  He wanted to reach for her, to draw her into a hug and promise everything would be okay. He did not. He could feel the wall she had built—felt the distance Alex was carefully widening for him—and he knew that forcing himself closer now would only push her further away.

  Later, as Ryan sat alone on the couch, reviewing emails and documents he had no energy to fully process, Hanabi’s phone lit up on the nightstand. Alex’s name glowed.

  Hanabi stared at the screen, fingers frozen.

  Alex: I’m glad you let me walk with you today.

  She didn’t respond.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to put the phone away.

  A subtle guilt mingled with the thrill of attention—a dangerous mix she would soon realize was only the beginning.