Chapter Eight – The Moments In Between
372 Words
Rossy didn’t expect to see him again so soon.
She had just finished a long day at the firm—her first back from suspension—and all she wanted was to disappear into her bedsheets.
Until her phone buzzed.
THOMAS: Come to the rooftop. I promise no drama. Just coffee.
She hesitated.
But curiosity—and something softer—pulled her in.
The rooftop was quiet, the city skyline stretching like a dream around her. Thomas stood by a table with two mugs in hand.
“I remembered how you like your coffee,” he said. “Three sugars. No milk.”
She blinked. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
They sat in silence, sipping coffee under the stars. The wind tugged lightly at her hair, and without thinking, Thomas reached out to tuck it behind her ear again.
“You have a habit of doing that,” Rossy murmured.
“Doing what?”
“Touching me like I belong to you.”
He met her eyes. “Maybe because I want to.”
She looked away, cheeks warm. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll start to believe you.”
He leaned closer, voice lower. “Then believe me.”
Their eyes locked. The air between them tightened. Her fingers brushed his by accident—and neither of them moved.
For a long moment, they just sat like that. Quiet. Close. Breathing the same breath.
“I’ve never had this before,” Rossy whispered. “Not with anyone.”
“What?” he asked gently.
“This… this thing that makes me feel safe and scared at the same time.”
Thomas’s jaw flexed. He reached for her hand, brushing his thumb across her knuckles.
“Maybe we’re both scared,” he said. “But maybe that means it’s real.”
They didn’t kiss that night.
They didn’t need to.
Because sometimes, the deepest connections are built in silence—in lingering glances, soft laughter, shared fears, and coffee under city lights.
And neither of them knew it yet, but that night would become the memory they’d both return to… over and over again… when everything came crashing down.
- Writer
