Chapter 5
EMILY
Istretch on the couch, wincing slightly at the pleasant soreness between my thighs. Six hours since I last saw Alex, and I still feel him everywhere—his hands, his mouth, the weight of him pressing me against the shower wall.
Croissant jumps onto my stomach, kneading my sweater with his paws before settling down. "Hey, buddy," I whisper, scratching under his chin. "You missed all the excitement this morning."
I've been floating through the day in a daze, doing mundane tasks that somehow feel different now.
I changed my sheets (smiling at the memory of why they needed changing).
Fed Croissant. Watched two episodes of a cooking show (more yelling than cooking, actually) without absorbing anything.
My mind keeps circling back to this morning.
The run was torture, but the way he smiled when I dramatically collapsed after the first mile made it worth it. And the croissants ... I touch my lips, remembering the taste of butter and Alex's mouth after.
But there's something else nagging at me, a splinter under my contentment.
Who needs enemies when you have a friend like Selena?
Alex's words loop in my head. Was he right? Am I blind to something obvious?
No, that's not fair. Selena's been my friend for months. She was the first person to welcome me when I moved in—bringing over a bottle of wine, helping me arrange furniture. She's been there through my transition to the building.
Sure, she can be a little ... hard to deal with sometimes.
Like when she told me to stop wearing my favorite striped sweater because it made me look thicker than I already was.
Or when she patted my arm after I described a complicated wedding flower arrangement and said, "Okay, but arranging flowers isn't really the toughest job. "
But that's just Selena—direct, honest. Not everyone sugarcoats things.
Though she was the one who pushed me to write that card. What if Alex had laughed at it? What if he'd shown it to others in the building? What if—
I shake my head, feeling disloyal for even thinking this way. Selena is my friend. I don't have many of those in this city, so I really can't afford to be picky. Or judge unfairly.
A knock interrupts my thoughts. I lift Croissant off my lap and set him on the cushion beside me.
When I open the door, Selena stands there, mascara slightly smudged beneath her eyes, looking distressed.
"Selena? What's wrong?" I step back. "Come in."
She enters, clutching her purse and whirling around to face me. "Em, I need to tell you something."
My stomach drops. "What happened? Are you okay? Did somebody hurt you?"
She sits on my couch, and I join her, concern washing through me at her uncharacteristic vulnerability. Selena is always put-together, always in control.
"I'm fine," she says, shaking her head. "It's not about me. It's about..." She wrings her hands. "I ran into Alex just now."
"Oh? Did you talk to him?"
Selena nods, not meeting my eyes. "We did. About you, actually. About this morning."
The dread intensifies. "What about this morning?"
"Em, I feel terrible being the one to tell you this, but he said ... he said it was fun, but he's not looking for anything serious."
The world slides to a stop around us, and I try to breathe through the sudden tightness in my chest. "What? No, that doesn't … we were just together this morning. He didn't say anything like that."
Selena takes my hand, her grip cold. "I know this is hard to hear. But he was pretty clear. He said the card made it obvious what this was, which is just physical. He's not looking for a relationship. He's basically just taking what you were offering."
I pull my hand back, nausea rolling through me. "He said that? Those exact words?"
"I'm paraphrasing, but yeah. He seemed ... I don't know, kind of relieved to have an excuse to end it before it got complicated."
I stand, unable to sit still with this information churning inside me. This morning, Alex was so tender. The way he looked at me in the shower. How carefully he dried me off afterward. How he walked me to my door.
But also, he never actually said anything about a relationship. What if it was just sex to him? What if I've been building this up in my head?
"I don't understand. This morning was ... it seemed like more than just—"
"Em, I hate to say this, but the card was pretty explicit. You basically offered him no-strings sex. What did you think would happen?"
The words land squarely on my deepest fear—that I'm too much, too eager, too desperate. "I mean, yeah, but we've been talking, getting to know each other—"
"Have you?" Selena tilts her head. "Or has it mostly been ... physical? It's been just a few days after all."
I think back over the past two days. The Valentine's date, yes, but then it escalated quickly. The kiss at my door. Him going down on me that night. This morning in the shower.
Has there been much talking beyond that?
"I'm not trying to be mean, Em, but you have to see this from his perspective. You're the one who propositioned him. He's a guy. Of course he's going to take what's offered. But that doesn't mean he wants more."
I sink back onto the couch, the room spinning slightly. "But he … I thought—"
"I know you did." She puts her arm around me. "And I feel horrible for not warning you sooner. But Em, guys like Alex? They don't usually go for ... I mean, you're great, but you're not exactly his type."
"W-what do you mean?"
"You know. He probably saw you as an easy hookup because you were so available." She winces. "I'm sorry, that sounds harsh, but I'm trying to be honest."
"So this whole time, he was just ... using me?" My voice cracks on the last word.
"I wouldn't say using. But yeah, he got what he wanted. And now he's done." She squeezes my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Em. I know you really liked him."
Tears well up, hot and humiliating. "I feel so stupid."
"You're not stupid." Selena pulls me closer. "You're just trusting. Too trusting, maybe. You always see the best in people, even when they don't deserve it."
I start crying in earnest now, and Selena holds me, making soothing noises.
"You deserve so much better than some guy who's just looking for a quick fuck," she says. "You're worth more than that."
"I just ... we vibed. I really thought he liked me."
"I know. But at least you found out now before you got in too deep. Can you imagine if you'd actually fallen for him?"
A knock on the door makes me jump. I freeze, wiping my eyes.
"Emily? You in there?"
It's Alex.
Selena's grip on my arm tightens. "Don't answer. You don't need to deal with him right now."
I stand, confused. "Why is he here?"
"Probably wondering if I told you, and if I did, to do damage control." Selena rises too, blocking my path. "Em, please, just don't—"
Before I can decide, the door opens. Alex walks in—I gave him my spare key this morning when we came back from our run, saying it was easier than him knocking when I'm in the shower.
Now, I regret it.
He stops when he sees us both, his eyes immediately going to my tear-stained face. His expression darkens. "What happened, Em?"
Selena positions herself between us. "We were just talking. Girl stuff. You should go."
Alex ignores her completely, his eyes fixed on me. "Why are you crying? Who hurt you?"
I can't meet his gaze. "You should have just told me yourself instead of telling Selena."
His brow furrows. "Told you what?"
"Alex, come on," Selena says quickly. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I already told her what you said. You can stop pretending now."
Alex's jaw tightens, but his eyes never leave mine. "What did she tell you I said?"
My voice comes out shaky. "That it was fun but you're not looking for anything serious. That the card made it clear this was just ... physical.” The word comes out as a breathy, deflated whisper.
Something shifts in Alex's expression—a cold fury that makes me take a step back, though I can tell it's not directed at me.
He looks at Selena. "I never said that."
"Alex, don't—"
"I never said that because I haven't talked to you. Not today. Not yesterday. Not ever beyond basic politeness."
Selena's face flushes deep red. "That's not—you bastard, you’re lying to save face—"
"You've been trying to get my attention for months," Alex continues. "Showing up where I am. Inviting me to your apartment every week. I've turned you down every single time."
Wait, what? I flick my gaze between them, suddenly feeling very confused and disoriented, like I'm watching a movie in a different language.
Selena shakes her head. "That's not true. Emily, he's lying. He's just trying to—"
"Every Tuesday evening, you knock on my door with some excuse," Alex says. "You're out of sugar. Your sink is leaking. You need help moving furniture. I always say no. I find excuses to avoid you"
"That's not—those were legitimate—"
"Last Tuesday, you invited me to 'just have a drink, as neighbors.' I said no. The Tuesday before that, you needed help 'fixing your TV.' I said no." Alex's eyes are cold. "Should I keep going?"
I stare at Selena as pieces click into place.
All those times she casually mentioned Alex.
How she always seemed to know what he did, where he was.
How she "happened" to always bump into him at the lobby.
How she encouraged me to write the card.
What if it wasn't about helping me at all?
"You wanted him to reject me," I say, the realization washing over me like ice water.
"What? No, I was trying to help you be bold— to go for it, to get a life.”
"You wanted him to reject me so I'd be humiliated, and he'd see me as desperate." My voice grows stronger. "And then maybe he'd notice you instead."
Selena's composure slips further. "That's insane. You're being paranoid—"
I stand straighter, anger building in my chest. "That's why you always made those comments. About my body. My job. My apartment. You weren't being blunt or honest. You were tearing me down."