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He seems like he wants to say something else, perhaps an explanation or another half-hearted assurance.
But what’s the point?
“Thank you for being honest,” I continue, pulling the covers around me a little tighter as if they could shield me from my own feelings.“I think it’s best if we give each other some space to figure things out.”
His nod is almost imperceptible in the dim light, and neither of us makes a move to bridge the newfound gap between us.I turn my back to him, needing the physical space to cope with the emotional distance he’s placed between us.
For the first time in what feels like forever, the room is filled with a chilly silence rather than the comforting stillness of moments ago.
Closing my eyes, my mind a torrent of emotion, I realize the paradox of our situation.By not wanting to lose me, he’s pushed me away.And although we’re still lying next to each other, it feels like we’re miles apart.
I wonder if this is the moment when we start to become strangers again.
* * *
A sliver of morning light slices through the curtains, painting a golden line across the empty space beside me.The bed feels too big, too vacant, echoing the hollowness I felt last night.
For a moment, I wonder if it was all just a dream—a twisted reminder of things hoped for but not attained.But then I see his running shoes missing from the corner of the room and the note left on his pillow.
Out for a run.Didn’t want to wake you.Back soon.
It’s a simple message, maybe even considerate in its intention, but it only serves to underscore the distance between us.We used to run together, share those early morning miles as a time to connect before the world woke up.Now, he’s out there alone, and I’m left here with nothing but my thoughts and an empty bed.
I sit up, wrapping my arms around my knees.Hurt as I am, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re at a crossroads, each waiting for the other to make a move to define what we are or could be.
The door creaks open, and he walks in, sweaty and out of breath.His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I see a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or understanding.But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar guardedness.
“Good run?”I ask, injecting a casualness into my voice that I don’t feel.
“Yeah, it was okay,” he replies, avoiding my eyes as he grabs a towel.
He heads for the shower, and I’m left alone once again, staring at the empty space beside me.I can’t help but think that sometimes the biggest distances are not measured in miles but in missed opportunities and unspoken feelings.
The water starts to run in the bathroom, drowning out the heavy silence.I realize that the gap between us is widening with each passing moment, each unsaid word, and I need to guard my heart.
I get up and start preparing for the day.Showering in my own room, my thoughts oscillate between Kingsley and work.
I spend most of the day sorting through emails, reviewing the upcoming schedule, and listening to recordings my producer has sent me.
This is where I belong, immersed in work, not isolated in the Hamptons, away from it all.
I call up Lexy, and she answers after one ring.“Viki!How’s it going over there?”
“It’s okay,” I say, picking a piece of lint off my sundress.“I miss the pace of New York.”
She exhales loudly.“It misses you too.Do you know how many things I’ve had to reshuffle and reschedule?”
“I know.I appreciate it, but I’m feeling better.”There’s a slight hesitation in my voice, but I push it away.I am feeling better since I shared what happened to me with Kingsley.It doesn’t matter that we would never work out.He helped me through something, and I’ll be forever grateful.
“You are?That’s great!So, are you coming back to New York today?”
I’m surprised by her suggestion.I guess I hadn’t really thought about it until now.
“ I guess so,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.“I’m keen to get back to the studio.”
“So, can I say you’re going to the Pop Music Awards on Saturday night?”
“Shit, I completely forgot about that.Yes, I’ll be there,” I say, not wanting to disappoint my fans.
