Chapter 7 CLOSE ENOUGH TO BURN

There's a certain kind of fire that doesn't begin with a touch.

It starts in silence. In the long stares, In shared memories of laughter too loud, of rain-soaked shoulders, of a borrowed blazer still scented with cologne. It simmers in the echo of someone saying your name the way no one else does.

And it grows quietly,

Until it's close enough to burn.

---

For three days, Elijah didn't see Sofia, Not at the office, not in the café downstairs, not in passing.

He told himself it was good, That they both needed space to catch their breath, to remember how close they'd come to something they couldn't take back.

But when her text came on Friday morning, his heart reacted before his brain could catch up.

" Are you free later? Just need to get away for a bit."

He stared at the screen, for a moment, he didn't respond.

Then:

"Say when."

---

They met at the greenhouse,

The abandoned one with broken panes and wild vines-their sanctuary, their secret.

Sofia had brought two coffee cups. She handed him one without saying a word and sat with her legs crossef near the cracked fountain. She was wearing jeans and a light sweater, her hair tied up loosely, her face bare a light makeup.

She looked like someone trying to disappear from everything except this.

"I couldn't stay in that house today," she said after a long silence. "Everything felt too loud, even in silence."

Elijah nodded. "You don't have to explain."

She smiled faintly. "That's why I beeped you."

They sipped in silence, the sound of birds and distant car horns taking over the background like a soundtrack they didn't choose.

"I used to think falling in love was supposed to feel like lightning," she said. "Like a shock to the system. Now I think it's more like erosion, Slow, Quiet, but powerful."

Elijah studied her. "Are you saying you're falling in love?"

She paused.

"With you?"

His breath caught.

Then she shook her head. "No, Not saying that, Just thinking out loud."

He looked down at his coffee, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointented.

"But sometimes," she added softly, "I wonder how it feels like to be loved gently, Not the burning kind., just consistent and kind."

"You deserve that," he said.

Sofia looked at him slowly, carefully. "And what do you deserve, Elijah?"

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

"I don't know," he said finally, "Maybe just someone who doesn't leave."

---

They walked side by side through the greenhouse, close enough to touch, the air between them heavy with words left unsaid. Her fingers brushed against his, light as a thought.

He didn't pull away,

At one point, they stopped near a bench, She sat, He sat beside her,

Close,

Too close.

Her hand trembled slightly as she set her coffee down. She didn't meet his gaze.

"Elijah, what are we even doing?" she asked, her voice low.

"I don't know," he said, and meant it.

"We keep dancing around this like it's nothing, But it is, and we both know it."

"It is there."

She looked at him then with eyes wide, vulnerable.

"I'm married,"

"I know,"

"He's not evil,Just absent,"

"I know."

"And you-" she faltered. "You deserve someone who's fully for you."

"I'm not asking for anything," he said with a call but a steady voice. "I just... I care about you."

She looked down at their hands, almost touching.

And that was the moment.

The one they would remember later, whether or not they admitted it.

Because she reached for him.

Fingers interlacing,

Not a kiss,

Not a confession,

Just her hand, in his,

And him, not letting go.

---

They sat that way for a long time, Until the coffee went cold, until the birds quieted, Until her phone beeped in her pocket.

She pulled it out, glanced at the screen.

"Mark," she said.

He let go of her hand.

She didn't answer the call.

"I need to leave" she said after it was done ringing.

He nodded, but neither of them stood

"Elijah..."

He waited.

"If this ends badly, I don't want you to think it wasn't real."

He swallowed. "I know it's real."

That was the problem.

---

Back at his apartment that night, Elijah stared at his ceiling, his arms behind his head, Charlie curled beside him. He didn't feel guilty, not yet,

But he felt weight.

Because now it wasn't just longing,

It wasn't just maybe,

It was something with a pulse,

Something alive,

Something dangerously close to burning.