Chapter 4 THE LINE WE WALK

The line had always been there:

Unspoken, uncrossed.

Yet, recently, Elijah had sensed it closing in slightly, not with full-blown, sudden heat or violence, but slowly, like mist rolling in and consuming all that had been distinct.

He and Sofia hadn't kissed, hadn't touched, certainly not in any way that counted, and yet, there was no denying that they'd become something they never spoke aloud. Something that throbbed under every look, every silence, every exchanged breath.

And Elijah was beginning to forget how to pretend otherwise.

---

It started on a Thursday.

He'd had a difficult morning. His client presentation had been derailed by tech issues, his department's intern had misfiled a week's worth of reports, and Mark had torn through the floor with his usual brand of charm-disguised aggression. By noon, Elijah wanted to take a leave.

He took his lunch to the rooftop veranda, one of the few places in the building where the sky felt close.

And then, her voice.

"You always come up here?"

She stepped onto the veranda in a sleeveless navy blouse, the wind blowing her hair. In her hands, was a takeout container.

He smiled despite himself. "Only when I need to remind myself that the world's bigger than spreadsheets and deadlines."

"Same."

They sat on the short concrete railing that looked over the city; they remained silent afterwards.

"I told Mark I needed fresh air. He didn't ask where I was going."

Elijah looked at her. "Does he usually ask?"

"Not unless he's trying to make a point."

There was no rancor in her voice. No anger, even, Just to bat she sounded tired of him.

"I'm sorry," Elijah said, and he really meant it.

She nodded. "I think... I just miss being missed."

He didn't reply. What could he say? That he knew what that felt like? That sometimes the absence of curiosity stung more than outright neglect?

When he finally turned to her, she was already looking at him.

"I see you, Elijah."

The words hit differently this time.

It wasn't flattery; It wasn't flirtation.

It was something far more dangerous.

Truth.

---

Later that week, Sofia visited Elijah's office in the late afternoon. She stood with one shoulder against the doorway, her arms crossed as she bit her lips.

"I found something," she said.

Elijah raised a brow. "Something good or something incriminating?"

She laughed. "Depends how you feel about abandoned greenhouses."

"What?"

"Come with me."

He hesitated. "Right now?"

"Yes. Mark's still in meetings, and you've looked like you could use some air."

He considered it for half a second before standing.

Charlie followed them and headed through to the car park. Fifteen minutes later, he was drifting along the backstreets of the city, whereupon the traffic lightened and the houses wore their riches in silence.

She pulled up to the rusted gate entangled with vines.

The sign was almost unreadable: Botanical Annex – Closed for Renovation.

"Found it while driving one day," she said. "It's locked up, but the side gate's never latched."

"Breaking and entering?" Elijah asked, amused.

"Just entering, Come on."

They slipped through the gate and found themselves surrounded by forgotten greenery. Vines curled around the collapsed latticework crawling through the cracks like they owned the place.

"I come here most times," she said. "When the city feels too loud, or my house feels too quiet."

Elijah nodded. He understood both.

They walked as none of them talked, their footsteps tapping against old gravel. Charlie sniffed at some wilted roses, his tail swaying gently.

Then Sofia stopped beside a cracked fountain.

"I used to think being chosen once was enough," she said softly. "Like, if someone chose me, loved me, that meant I mattered. But lately, i think what I really wanted was to be chosen again. Even when things got hard."

Elijah stood by her side, close enough to feel her warmth, but far enough to maintain the lines they were both afraid to cross.

"You really deserve that," he said.

Their eyes met again. And this time, the stillness was too long.

Her hand unintentionally brushed his, She stepped back, her voice barely audible as she talked.

"We should go."

---

They kept mute on the drive back; She dropped him at the office without saying a word, while she drove back.

That night, Elijah sat outside, replaying the moment they had in the veranda. It wasn't just her words, but the look in her eyes, the little touch of her fingers, and the way the air was quiet.

He was falling.

And he didn't know how to stop.

---

The next morning, Mark summoned Elijah into his office.

"Need you to revise the proposal for Sam's account," he said. "They want a new messaging angle."

"Understood."

Mark leaned back in his chair, scrolling through his phone. "By the way, my wife mentioned she's seen a bit of you lately."

Elijah froze, careful to keep his face neutral.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Says you've been helpful."

"I try to be."

Mark's eyes narrowed, not suspicious, exactly, But vigilant.

"I hope you understand the importance of boundaries in this office, Elijah. Professionalism and Discretion must be maintained."

"Of course."

Mark briefly smiled, "Good. That's what I thought."

---

Later that afternoon, Elijah found Sofia waiting in the break room. She was sipping tea, her hands slightly shaking.

"He said something, didn't he?" she asked when everyone had left.

Elijah nodded. "He said you mentioned me."

"I didn't mean to make things complicated."

"You didn't."

But they both knew that was false.

She sat down, holding her cup with both hands.

"Maybe we've already crossed our boundaries she said.

Elijah didn't speak. Hee words were indeed heavy.

He wanted to reach for her, to pull her out of whatever pains she was in, to tell her she wasn't alone, That she was seen, wanted and valued.

But he couldn't.

Because if he did, everything would change,

Instead, he said the only thing he could.

"Then maybe we just stop walking it."

Sofia looked at him,

And for the first time, she didn't smile.