Almost Love
Sanjana
When I thought I was carving a place in his heart and building a bond with him, my hopes were shattered all at once.
It happened on an ordinary night, which somehow made it worse.
There was no argument preceding it. No tension sharp enough to warn me. Just another quiet evening that followed the pattern we had slowly built, careful and understated.
I found him in the library again. The lights were dim, the room wrapped in that familiar hush that now felt almost sacred. He looked up as I entered, his expression easing in a way that had become familiar enough to be dangerous.
“You are late,” he said.
“I lost track of time,” I replied, taking the chair across from him.
We spoke about nothing important at first. A book he was reading. A meeting he had postponed. Small observations that carried comfort instead of obligation. At some point, my tea went untouched, growing cold between my hands.
“You should drink that,” he said.
“I forgot,” I replied.
He reached for the cup instinctively, stopping himself midway before his fingers brushed mine. The pause was brief, but it changed the air between us.
“I will get you a fresh one,” he said.
“There is no need,” I said quietly.
Our hands hovered too close. Not touching. A fraction apart.
I looked up at him then. The sharp lines of control had softened. His guard was still there, but thinner, stretched by the hours we had spent in shared quiet.
For a moment, he did not step back.
His hand closed around mine.
The contact was unmistakable.
Not accidental. Not necessary.
Deliberate.
My breath caught before I could stop it. His thumb rested lightly against my skin, warm, grounding. He did not pull away immediately. Instead, he looked at our joined hands as though startled by his own choice.
Something fragile bloomed in my chest.
This was not protection. This was not duty.
This was him.
He lifted his gaze to my face, and for a brief, dangerous second, the distance between us disappeared.
His expression was unreadable, caught somewhere between restraint and surrender.
His gaze dropped to my lips making me understand his intention.
That didn’t scare me. Instead my heart fluttered and my cheeks turned crimson.
I did not move closer.
I did not have to.
He leaned in first.
Not enough to touch my lips. Just enough that I could feel his breath, see the hesitation in his eyes, the question he did not voice.
If this moment tipped forward, there would be no retreat.
And he knew it. I knew it.
His hand tightened once around mine and I closed my eyes.
But he let my hand go.
He stood abruptly, stepping back as though the floor had shifted beneath him.
“This cannot happen,” he said.
The words landed harder than any raised voice.
I remained seated, my hand still warm, still aching with the absence of his touch.
“Why?” I asked.
He turned away, his back rigid. “Because I will destroy it if I allow myself to want it.”
The room felt suddenly too large.
“I thought we were past fear,” I said.
“We are not,” he replied. “Not where this is concerned.”
I stood slowly. “Then what was that I saw in your eyes just before a few minutes?" I asked, my voice steady despite the fracture spreading inside me.
“A mistake,” he said.
The word cut deeper than silence ever had.
“I am trying to protect us both,” he continued. “From expectations. From attachment. From something that cannot end without damage.”
I laughed softly, once. “You are destroying yourself,” I said. “And calling it protection.”
He did not deny it.
I nodded, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “Then do not do this again,” I said. “Do not look at me like I matter if you are going to retreat every time it becomes real.”
His shoulders sagged slightly, as though the weight of my words had found their mark.
“I am sorry,” he said.
The apology did nothing to ease the ache.
I turned toward the door, forcing myself not to look back. Each step away felt heavier than the last.
Almost love was worse than none at all.
It showed me what could exist.
And then reminded me that I was not allowed to reach for it.
I went back to my room and let the tears fall freely. My hopes were shattered completely and forever.