We’ve been working together for eighteen months, and in that time, I’ve learned more about her than I ever thought possible without crossing a single line. We’re both married—happy, even. At least, I tell myself I am.

But today, after the team meeting, she stayed behind. The office emptied. Rain tapped against the windows. She stood by the coffee machine, back to me, and said, 'I can’t do this forever, you know.'

I froze. 'Do what?'

She turned, eyes glistening. 'Pretend I don’t feel this. Pretend I don’t notice how you watch me. How you remember my daughter’s birthday. How you laugh at my terrible puns like they’re the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.'

My throat closed. 'We’re not—'

'I know,' she whispered. 'We’re not doing anything wrong. But something’s happening. And I don’t know how to stop it.'

She took a step closer. 'Tell me I’m imagining it. Tell me it’s just friendship. And I’ll walk away. Right now.'

Her voice broke. 'But if you can’t… then we need to talk about what this means.'