I am Attracted to You.But I Need Space
Sharon went straight to Esther’s desk the moment she stepped out of Kelvin’s office, her heart racing so hard she could feel it in her throat.
“I just did something really stupid,” she panted.
Esther looked up immediately. “What kind of stupid?”
“I told Mr. Kelvin that I’m attracted to him.”
“What?” Esther half-shouted, then quickly lowered her voice, glancing around the office. “What did you just say?”
“I told him,” Sharon repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I told him I’m attracted to him.”
Esther stared at her like she’d grown another head.
“No. No, you’re joking. You have to be joking.” She shook her head. “Sharon, why would you do that? Are you tired of your job? Do you want to get fired?”
Sharon didn’t answer. She just stood there, eyes glassy, fingers clenched together.
Esther’s panic doubled. “Wait-wait. What exactly did you say? From the beginning. Slowly.” She leaned closer. “What did he say? Did he shout? Did he threaten you? Did he fire you?”
“Esther-breathe,” Sharon said quietly. “You’re asking too many questions at a time.”
“How can I breathe?” Esther whispered fiercely. “You just confessed feelings to your boss.”
Sharon swallowed. “I also told him I needed distance from him.”
Esther blinked. “Distance?” She laughed nervously. “No. No, no, no. This has to be a joke. The Sharon I know would rather disappear than say something like that.”
“I know,” Sharon murmured. “That’s why I’m scared.”
Esther pulled her into an empty corner and sat her down. “Okay. Sit. Start talking. What happened in that office?”
Sharon took a deep breath. “He asked why I wanted someone else to go with him for the trip. I tried to brush it off, but he wouldn’t let it go. He kept telling me to say what was on my mind.”
“And you just… said it?”
“I didn’t plan to,” Sharon said quickly. “It just came out.”
Esther pressed a hand to her chest. “And?”
“He laughed,” Sharon admitted. “But not in a bad way. Not mocking.” She hesitated. “Then he said he wasn’t angry. He said he just wanted to understand.”
Esther narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like someone about to fire you.”
“He didn’t,” Sharon said softly. “He said we should try the experiment.”
“What experiment?”
“A month of distance. No calling me. No meetings. Nothing unnecessary.” She looked down. “Then we talk again.”
Esther leaned back slowly. “So let me get this straight. You confessed. He didn’t punish you. He didn’t shut you down harshly. And instead, he agreed to give you space.”
“Yes.”
Esther stared at her for a long moment. “Sharon… Do you know how dangerous that is?”
Sharon’s heart sank. “Dangerous how?”
“Because men like him can play with your emotions,” Esther said carefully. “And they can hurt you deeply. You are very innocent, and easy to manipulate.”
Sharon shook her head quickly. “No. You’re reading too much into it. He’s engaged. And he has nothing to do with me.”
Esther sighed. “I’m not saying he wants you. I’m saying you just stepped into something much bigger than you realize. He has a girlfriend- who is dangerous, and you know that Lillian is also interested in him. In fact, more than half of the office are”
Sharon’s voice trembled. “I didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted the feelings to stop.”
Esther reached for her hand. “Listen to me. You were brave-but bravery has consequences. For this month, you stay in your lane. No overthinking. No hoping. No imagining.”
Sharon nodded slowly.
“And if, after this month,” Esther continued gently, “you still feel the same-then we’ll figure out the next step together.”
Sharon exhaled shakily. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” Esther said, squeezing her hand. “But at least now, he knows how you feel.”
And as Sharon sat there trying to steady her breathing, one thought echoed in her mind- She had asked for distance.
She just didn’t know yet whether distance would save her… or make everything worse.
****
Kelvin thought a month would be easy.
He had survived boardroom wars, hostile takeovers, betrayals dressed as loyalty. He had mastered discipline. Distance was supposed to be his strength.
Yet the first week felt wrong in ways he couldn’t explain.
He stopped calling Sharon into his office. Stopped inventing reasons to loop her into conversations that didn’t strictly require her input. Stopped watching for her presence before meetings began.
On paper, everything looked fine.
In reality, the office felt… hollow.
He noticed it in small, inconvenient ways.
When reports crossed his desk and he instinctively looked for her name among the analysts.
When meetings dragged and no one asked the kind of careful, precise questions she always did.
When problems arose and his mind went to What would Sharon notice here? before he could stop himself.
That irritated him most of all.
This was the point of the distance-to clear his head.
Instead, it sharpened everything.
***
By the second week, the silence became loud.
Sharon kept her promise. She was professional to the point of invisibility. Emails only when necessary. Short, factual updates. No unnecessary greetings in the hallway.
No warmth.
No nervous honesty.
No curious questions.
He caught glimpses of her sometimes-across the office floor, bent over her system, focused and composed. She laughed once with Esther, soft and unguarded, and the sound surprised him with how much he missed it.
Missed.
He didn’t like that word.
He told himself this was withdrawal, not attachment. The mind reacting to the sudden absence of something familiar. Nothing more.
Still, he found himself lingering at glass walls longer than necessary. Watching her without being seen. Measuring how easily she moved on with her work.
She looks… calmer, he thought.
That should have been reassuring.
It wasn’t.
Stella noticed the change before the month was halfway through.
“You’re distant,” she said one evening, studying him over dinner. “Even when you’re here, you’re not.”
“I’m tired,” he replied, automatically.
She reached for his hand. He let her-but the contact felt forced, like a role he was playing well enough to pass.
She leaned closer. “Talk to me, Kelvin.”
He didn’t.
Later that night, lying beside her, staring at the ceiling, he realized something unsettling.
The distance hadn’t dulled his awareness of Sharon. It had stripped away his excuses.
Without proximity, without daily interaction, there was nothing to blame this on but himself.
By the third week, guilt crept in.
He wondered if the experiment had been unfair from the start.
He was a man used to power, control, and clarity. Sharon was none of those things. She hadn’t asked for his attention. Hadn’t chased it. Hadn’t even wanted it once she understood what it was doing to her.
She had asked for distance.
And honored it.
That alone unsettled him.
In his world, people took. They pushed. They demanded. Sharon stepped back.
For her own protection.
The realization sat heavy in his chest.
Near the end of the month, Kelvin stood alone in his office late one evening, city lights bleeding through the windows.
He tried, for the first time, to answer the question honestly.
Did the feelings fade?
No.
They changed.
What had once been curiosity had deepened into something quieter, steadier, more dangerous. He no longer thought of her in moments of proximity or tension-but in absence.
In restraint.
In respect.
And that frightened him more than desire ever had.
Because desire could be dismissed.
This could not.
A month had passed and For the first time in weeks, his heart did something unfamiliar.
It steadied.
Whatever she would say-whether the feelings were gone or not-he knew one thing with clarity that surprised him.
The distance had not freed him.
It had revealed him.
And as the clock ticked, Kelvin realized the truth he had been avoiding all along:
This conversation was not about whether Sharon’s feelings had survived the month.
It was about whether his had.
One month and five days
Kelvin had waited-longer than he thought he could. Every day he checked his calendar, half-expecting her name to appear on his schedule. It never did.
Finally, he stopped waiting.
“Send Sharon in,” he said to his secretary
She arrived a few minutes later, slightly breathless, like she’d hurried.
“You had to wait for me to call you, didn’t you?” he asked lightly.
“Sorry, sir,” she replied. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy,” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Or avoiding me”
“Busy sir” she replied. “Okay So-” he lifted both brows in mock seriousness, “have your feelings for me disappeared?” he asked, going straight to the point.
Her stomach flipped.
She always felt that strange tingling whenever he spoke like this-too direct, too close.
“Yes, sir,” she said after a brief pause.
It was a lie.
But she refused to let him think he held that much power over her.
He smiled slowly. “Really?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Interesting,” he murmured. “Then you’ll have to teach me how you do it. There’s a particular girl giving me sleepless nights.”
Her lips curved despite herself. “It’s simple.”
“Oh?” His eyes sharpened. “Then since you’re no longer attracted to me, you’ll be joining me for this trip. And every trip after that.”
“What?” she blurted out.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “I have one less person to worry about now.”
Her heart skipped. “Sir-no.”
“No?” He raised a brow. “No, what?”
She froze. Words tangled in her throat.
“I-” she stammered.
“Look at me, Sharon.”
“I can’t, sir.”
“Why?”
“I feel intimidated when I do.”
He smiled. “Because you’re still attracted to me?”
“I said I wasn’t.”
“Fine,” he said easily. “Then it’s settled. The meetings start tomorrow.”
“Sir, but what about Lilian?”
“She’s coming too.”
Sharon muttered under her breath. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
He chuckled. “What’s that?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“You’d rather not be around her,” he said, nodding slowly. “I see.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t deny it either.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
She frowned. “I feel like you’re laughing at me.”
“I am,” he said honestly. “A little.”
She glared at him. He smiled wider.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sharon.”
She stood reluctantly, clearly hoping he’d change his mind.
He didn’t.
As she reached the door, he spoke again.
“You have something else to say?”
“No, sir,” she replied quickly.
She paused, then added, “Good night.”
As the door closed behind her, Kelvin exhaled, still smiling.
She was lying.
And she had no idea how transparent she was.
Meanwhile, Sharon walked down the corridor, cheeks warm, heart racing.
I hate him, she thought bitterly.
How did I get myself into this?
She stopped walking.
Should I go back?
Confess?
Tell him the truth?
Her hand hovered near the door-but she pulled it back.
No.
Not today.
And behind that closed door, Kelvin leaned back in his chair, eyes thoughtful.
Let’s see how long you last, Sharon.