Page 34 of Lovesick

He showed up differently. Not with grand gestures, but with consistency. With care. With presence. I’d catch him watching me in meetings, not with hunger, but with something softer. Like he was finally letting himself feel everything he’d buried before.

He wasn’t trying to win me back with charm or apologies. He wasn’t even trying to impress me. He was just…there. Available in a way I never believed he could be.

I saw it in the way he waited for me outside meetings, lingering just long enough to walk me back to my office like it was second nature. I saw it in the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t. I saw it in the way he listened now. Fully. Closely.

And I was starting to believe it wasn’t just guilt or regret that made him act that way.

It was something deeper.

He was falling.

Maybe even faster than I was this time. Harder. Completely.

One night, after a long day and a late meeting, we ended up in the conference room again, papers spread out, coffee gone cold, the city glowing through the windows. He leaned back in his chair, eyes tired but soft, watching me as I closed my laptop.

He didn’t speak right away, and I looked up, wondering what was going on in his head.

“You know…I’ve always loved sitting next to you in meetings. You always keep me calm,” he finally said, his voice soft, just like his expression.

I didn’t move. Just stood there and watched him.

His words lingered in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I’d always known he was good at hiding his feelings, but lately, there was something different in the way he was looking at me. Something raw. Something real.

“You always kept me calm too,” I admitted quietly, not sure where the words were coming from. Maybe it was because the past seemed so distant now, maybe because I didn’t want to fight it anymore. The tension between us felt different, softer. A little bit like we were both allowing ourselves to finally be vulnerable.

He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving mine.

Then, he stood up. His movements were slow, like he was giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. I wasn’t sure I ever did.

He took a step toward me, and I felt my breath hitch. Every inch of space between us felt like it was closing in, drawing us together, whether I was ready or not.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low. “For everything. I never wanted to hurt you.”

His apology was so sincere, and it was something I hadn’t really expected.

The last bit of space between us disappeared as he reached out, his hand brushing the side of my face. The touch was gentle. More than it had ever been, and my body reacted to it immediately.

“I don’t want to keep messing this up, Emilia,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the curve of my cheek. “I just want to be here. With you. Whatever that means.”

I couldn’t answer him, not in words. But the way I looked at him, how I stepped closer, closing the final gap, said everything. He understood, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, moving closer.

I chewed the inside of my lip and swallowed before whispering, “Yes, I’m sure.”

His lips found mine then, pressing against mine softly. Too soft. Like he was waiting for me to pull back and change my mind.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I kissed him back carefully. The kiss was different from all of the ones we had before. It was different from the heated and desperate moments we once had. This one was soft, full of hope. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in, holding me close.

The kiss deepened and I felt myself melting against him, letting him hold me like he never really had before. Letting him be gentle. Letting myself be open. The warmth of him made me dizzy, and I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want this to ever stop.

His lips parted and his tongue brushed along my bottom lip, carefully asking for permission. I didn’t hesitate to let him in, and his tongue slid inside my mouth and curled around mine. The moan escaping me proved that, deep down, I had already forgiven him. I had already chosen him again. But this time, I knew that he felt the same.

I would make him fight for me. Show me that he truly changed.

He didn’t say anything when he pulled back, but he didn’t have to. I think, for the first time, I really believed him. I really believed we could be something more than just a painful history.

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