The ride back to the hotel was painfully quiet. Neither of us said a word. Not when we got into the car.
Not when the city lights blurred past the window. Not even when the driver asked if we wanted to stop anywhere on the way back. The question lingered for a second longer than it should have—like even he could feel the tension sitting between us.
Harley answered for both of us with a quiet no. His voice was steady. Too steady. Like nothing had happened at all.
I kept my eyes fixed on the window, watching my faint reflection stare back at me. The glass distorted my features slightly, making me look unfamiliar—even to myself.
But all I could see was that moment. His hand on my cheek. His voice. The way he looked at me right before I pulled away. Like he had already crossed a line in his mind… and I had dragged us both back.
My stomach twisted.
Why did I stop him? Why didn't I let it happen? When will I stop being so scared? Why does the thought of losing him terrify me more than anything else?
The question circled in my mind over and over again, but no matter how many times I asked it, the answer still refused to come.
Or maybe… I already knew. And I just didn't want to admit it. Because admitting it would mean facing everything I've been avoiding.
When we finally arrived at the hotel, Harley stepped out first and held the door open for me. His movements were automatic. Polite. Distant.
I muttered a soft thank you before walking past him.
Even that felt strange now. Everything felt strange now. Harley's stares no longer lingered and that hurt more than it should. Like something I didn't realize I depended on had suddenly disappeared.
The elevator ride was even worse.
It was just the two of us standing side by side, the silence pressing down on me with every passing floor. The soft hum of the elevator felt louder than usual, filling the space where our voices should have been.
"Um… I- I am sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier."
Harley didn't say anything nor did he look at me. All I could feel was his presence beside me. Too close and yet somehow farther away than before. Like there was a wall between us that I couldn't see—but could feel.
I tightened my grip on my purse and stared straight ahead. The elevator dinged and then doors opened.
"I wish you would be more honest with yourself and stop pushing me away," he said, finally looking at me. His gaze wasn't angry. Just tired.
Then he exited the elevator with me following behind. Harley unlocked the suite door and stepped aside to let me in first. Even now, he didn't forget to put me first. That somehow made it worse.
I walked inside and headed straight toward the window, wrapping my arms around myself as I stared out at the city below. Like if I faced him, everything would come spilling out.
Paris still looked beautiful at night. But it didn't feel the same anymore. Not after what almost happened. Not after what I stopped from happening.
Behind me, I heard Harley set his keys down on the table. A second later, his footsteps stopped.
"Sophie."
My breath caught. I didn't turn around instead; I placed my right hand on the glass window. The cool surface grounded me—but not enough.
"Yeah?"
His voice was calm when he spoke again. Too calm. "You don't have to be nervous around me." Like he was trying to make it easier for me—even now.
My chest tightened.
I let out a short laugh, though there was no humour in it. "I'm not nervous." I'm terrified.
"You're a terrible liar."
I closed my eyes briefly. He wasn't wrong; I suck at lying. Which is why when a friend wants confirmation, they would reach out to me for answers. Because I've never been able to hide the truth—except when it comes to him.
I turned around slowly and found him standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Like he had already put his guard back up.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I looked away first for a second before walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck. The decision felt sudden—but necessary. Like I needed to fix something before it slipped further away.
As I kissed him on the cheeks, I felt his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly. Like I might disappear. Like he didn't trust me not to.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly as I rested my chin on his shoulder.
Harley nuzzled his face into my neck. "Don't push me away." His voice was softer now. Almost pleading.
I nodded and hugged him tighter. Because this was easier than saying what I really felt.
After Harley released his hold on me, I grabbed my pyjamas and headed toward the room, my face burning with embarrassment. And something else I didn't want to name.
The warm water felt nice against my skin. It eased the tension knotted in my shoulders and settled the storm in my chest. For a moment, everything felt quiet again. Manageable.
I touched my lips as I recalled how close we came to kissing. How much I wanted it. How much it scared me.
By the time I changed and stepped back into the living room, Harley was sitting on the couch near the window, his laptop open in front of him.
The soft glow from the screen reflected faintly against his face. He didn't look up when I walked out. Like he had already shifted back into something familiar. Something safe. Something that didn't involve me.
I stood there for a moment, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself. Before, I would have just climbed into bed without thinking.
Now… even that felt awkward. Like I didn't know where I belonged anymore.
I walked over to the far side of the bed and slowly pulled the covers back. The mattress dipped slightly as I climbed in.
Harley still didn't look up. Instead, he grabbed his buzzing phone from the coffee table and answered it.
"Hello, Stacy."
Stacy? Why is she calling him while he's on vacation? Why does hearing her name now feel… different?
I stared at his figure for a moment before finally turning away and facing the other side. Because I didn't want to think about it.
The room was quiet except for the faint tapping of keys on his laptop and the distant hum of the city outside.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Sleep didn't come easily. Every time I drifted off, my mind pulled me right back to that moment.
The way he said, "Don't pull away this time." The way I did it anyway. Hours seemed to pass before the tapping finally stopped. I heard the laptop close.
Then silence. Heavy. Waiting.
A few moments later, the other side of the bed dipped. My heartbeat quickened instantly. I stayed perfectly still, pretending to be asleep. Because I didn't know what I would do if I looked at him.
"Sophie?" Harley said, closing the gap between us. "Can I cuddle you?" His voice was quieter now. Careful. Like he wasn't sure what I would say.
I nodded.
I felt his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I turned toward him and looked into his eyes, while running my hand through his jet-black hair. The familiarity of it made my chest ache.
"Let's make lots of memories while we are here." Before things get complicated. Before I ruin this.
Harley nodded while his eyes were fixated on my lips. My heart quickened when he moved his hand toward my lips and traced it with his thumb. The touch was slow. Intentional.
"I want to kiss you," he said, looking into my eyes. "Can I?" This time, he asked. This time, he gave me the choice.
"As long as it's just a kiss," I said, breaking eye contact. Like I needed to set a boundary—even if I didn't understand why.
I closed my eyes and braced myself as Harley leaned in to kiss me. My heart quickened when I felt his breath on my lips. Everything in me stilled—waiting.
His lips barely grazed mine when a knock on the door interrupted us. I breathed out a soft sigh of relief when Harley let go and went to answer the door. Relief… and something else I didn't want to acknowledge.