Chapter 9:

Denial Phase

The next few days were a masterclass in avoidance.

I took the stairs again. Changed my lunch routine. Responded to Alex’s texts with short, one word replies or memes instead of the usual back-and-forth. After that almost-kiss at the bar after the way my body had leaned in like it knew something I didn’t I needed space. Real space. This was getting too weird, too fast. I was straight. He was straight. We’d both just had too much whiskey and too many vulnerable conversations. Simple as that.

Alex seemed to be on the same page. Our elevator run-ins became polite nods and quick “how’s it going?”...