The following weeks were a cautious dance between Emma and Alexander. Their friendship, while mended in appearance, felt fragile—a structure rebuilt with cracks still visible. Emma’s boundaries were clear, and Alexander, for all his efforts, seemed to understand her need for space.
“Ready to lose?” Alexander teased one afternoon as they played chess at a quiet café. It had been his idea, and though Emma was initially hesitant, she had agreed.
“You seem awfully confident for someone who just lost two games in a row,” Emma shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Alexander chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I let you win. Strategy.”
“Sure,” she said dryly, moving her knight into position. “Checkmate.”
His jaw dropped, and she couldn’t help but laugh—something that felt both foreign an
