175 HIDDEN EYES

Chapter 8

The morning after Evan walked her home, Winifred stood at her kitchen counter longer than usual, coffee growing cold in her hands. She kept replaying the moment on the doorstep—the strange question about who was more handsome, the way his ears had turned red when she laughed, the quiet way he had said he knew what he wanted. It should have been easy to dismiss. He was young, intense, and clearly unused to being told no. Yet the memory sat in her mind like a stone she could not quite ignore.

She told herself it was nothing. Clients sometimes developed odd attachments. It was common enough. She had handled worse. Still, when her phone buzzed with a message from Theo confirming Saturday, she felt a small, unexpected relief. Something simple. Something uncomplicated.

By the time she reached the office, she had decided to keep the next session with Evan strictly professional. No personal talk. No openings.

He arrived exactly on time, as always. Black coat, dark shirt, hair in that same low bun. He sat down and looked at her with the same steady attention that always made the room feel smaller.

“You seem distracted,” he said.

“I’m fine. Let’s start with how your week has been.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You walked home alone last night until I found you. That was careless.”

Her pen paused. “I didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“You didn’t have to. You were alone on a dark street. Anyone could have been behind you.” His voice stayed calm, but there was an edge under it now. “You should be more careful.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” He watched her face closely. “You reached for the spray. Your hands were shaking a little. You were scared.”

She disliked how accurately he described it. “Most people would be startled if someone appeared out of the dark.”

“I’m not most people.” He leaned back. “And you knew it was me the moment you saw my face. You put the spray away. You let me walk you the rest of the way. You even laughed at me.”

Winifred kept her expression even. “I laughed because the question was strange.”

“Was it?” His gray eyes stayed on hers. “You didn’t answer it.”

“There was nothing to answer.”

“There’s always something to answer.” He was quiet for a moment, then asked, almost lightly, “Does he make you laugh like that?”

She looked up. “Who?”

“Theo.”

The name sat between them. Winifred felt a small warning in the back of her mind, but she pushed it down.

“That’s not part of this session.”

“Everything about you is part of this session when I’m the one sitting here.” His tone remained soft, but the words were not. “You smile differently when you talk to him. You answer faster. You look at him like he’s safe.”

“He’s a friend.”

“He’s courting you. You said it yourself.” Evan’s gaze darkened just enough to notice. “Does he know how carefully you keep people at a distance? Or does he think he’s special?”

Winifred set the pen down. “You’re crossing a line.”

“Am I?” He didn’t look away. “You let him interrupt our session. You made plans with him right in front of me. You smiled at him like I wasn’t even in the room. That felt… disrespectful.”

The word hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

She chose her next words carefully. “Theo and I have a personal relationship. That has nothing to do with you or this work.”

“It has everything to do with me when I have to sit here and watch it.” His voice dropped lower. “I don’t like sharing your attention. I don’t like watching you give someone else the soft version of yourself while I only get the professional one.”

Winifred felt the first real flicker of unease. Not fear exactly—something closer to the sense that the ground under the conversation had shifted without her noticing.

“This is a therapy session,” she said. “Not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition when someone else is trying to stand where I want to stand.” He said it quietly, almost thoughtfully, as if he were simply stating a fact. “You don’t see it yet. But you will.”

She stared at him. For a moment she could not find a safe reply.

He continued before she could. “You think I’m only here for control. You’re right. But you still don’t understand what I want to control.” His eyes moved over her face slowly, lingering on her mouth, then returning to her eyes. “I want the version of you that laughs. The one that lets someone walk her home. The one that answers questions she doesn’t have to answer. I want that version looking at me.”

The room felt too warm. Winifred’s pulse had picked up, and she hated that he could probably see it.

“You’re speaking as if you have a claim,” she said.

“I do.” The two words were soft and absolute. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

She stood up, needing the movement. “I think we should end early today.”

Evan remained seated for a few seconds longer, watching her. Then he rose in one smooth motion. He walked to the door, paused, and looked back.

“Saturday,” he said. “You’re meeting him at seven. Near the park.”

Her stomach tightened. “I never told you the time.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “You didn’t have to. I’ll see you next session, Winifred.”

He left without another word.

She stood in the middle of the office for a long time after the door closed, the sound of her own heartbeat loud in her ears. He had known the day and the time. He had spoken about Theo with a quiet, possessive certainty that made her skin feel too tight. And the worst part was that some small, buried part of her had not stepped away fast enough when he said he wanted the version of her that laughed.

That evening she canceled the Saturday plan with Theo by text, claiming an unexpected work conflict. She told herself it was only temporary—just until she could think more clearly. She did not examine the real reason too closely.

Later, while she sat by the window of her apartment with the lights low, she felt it again: the weight of eyes somewhere beyond the glass. She did not get up to look. She only pulled the curtain a little tighter and tried to convince herself that the growing tension in her chest was still under her control.

It was not.

Somewhere in the city, Evan Gray already knew she had canceled. And he was patient enough to wait for the moment she finally understood why.