The Things She Couldn't Undo
983 Words
Sophia avoided Adrian for exactly forty-eight hours after the parking basement incident.
Which sounded impressive emotionally until she realized she spent most of those forty-eight hours thinking about him anyway.
Disaster.
Because now every memory felt sharper:
his hand near her face,
the softness in his voice,
the terrifying gentleness of someone touching her carefully instead of possessively.
Sophia hated how much that affected her.
More importantly—
she hated that part of her wanted it again.
⸻
“You’re spiraling.”
Sophia looked up from her laptop sharply.
Her assistant stood near the office door holding documents and far too much confidence.
“I’m working.”
“You’ve opened the same email six times.”
Sophia glanced toward the screen.
Unfortunately accurate.
“That means nothing.”
“It means you’re emotionally compromised.”
“I’m going to reduce your salary.”
“You say that every week.”
Because unfortunately, her assistant had become immune to threats.
Traitor.
Sophia forced herself back toward work.
Investor reports.
Budgets.
Contracts.
Things that made sense.
Not Adrian Reyes standing in parking basements looking at her like she was something fragile worth protecting.
Dangerous man.
Her phone buzzed again.
Sophia froze briefly upon seeing his name.
Then ignored it.
Coward.
Five minutes later, another message appeared:
Are you alive or dramatic?
Sophia stared at the screen.
Then:
Busy.
The reply came immediately.
Liar.
Rude.
Another message followed:
You run every time something feels real.
Sophia’s chest tightened instantly.
Too direct.
Too accurate.
She locked the phone immediately before emotions could become catastrophic inside the middle of a board meeting.
Unfortunately, the sentence followed her anyway.
You run every time something feels real.
⸻
That evening, Sophia arrived home emotionally exhausted and irritated with herself.
Rain tapped softly against the apartment windows while Jakarta glowed beneath cloudy skies outside.
The apartment felt quiet.
Too quiet.
Sophia placed her bag onto the kitchen counter before freezing slightly.
A familiar paper bag sat there.
Her heartbeat stumbled once.
Impossible.
She walked closer carefully.
Coffee.
Pastries.
A folded note.
Sophia stared at it suspiciously before opening the paper slowly.
Your security guards are easily bribed.
Eat something before you collapse dramatically again.
— Adrian
Sophia closed her eyes briefly.
This man was becoming a problem.
A very attractive, emotionally intelligent problem.
She should feel irritated.
Instead—
warmth spread quietly through her chest.
Dangerous.
Sophia sat down slowly at the kitchen island while rain continued outside.
Then finally noticed another smaller line written beneath the first message.
You don’t have to answer yet.
I’ll wait until you stop running.
The words hit harder than they should have.
Because Adrian never pressured her.
Never demanded answers.
Never forced emotional intimacy before she was ready.
He simply stayed.
And somehow that consistency was slowly dismantling every defensive wall Sophia built over twenty-eight years.
Her phone buzzed again in her hand.
Adrian calling.
Sophia stared at the screen for several seconds before answering quietly:
“…Hi.”
Silence.
Then a soft laugh from the other end.
“There she is.”
The warmth in his voice nearly destroyed her immediately.
Sophia leaned against the kitchen counter tiredly.
“You broke into my apartment emotionally.”
“Your security guards accepted pastries as currency.”
“That’s concerning.”
“They seemed underpaid.”
Sophia laughed softly before she could stop herself.
The sound surprised both of them.
Because lately Adrian was becoming one of the only people capable of making her laugh naturally.
Dangerous man.
“You ate yet?” he asked gently.
Sophia glanced toward the untouched food beside her.
“Not yet.”
“Mhm.”
“You sound judgmental.”
“You skipped lunch too.”
“How do you know that?”
“You get quieter through text when you haven’t eaten.”
Sophia stared at the city lights outside her apartment windows.
Terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying how much attention he paid to her.
“Adrian.”
Her voice softened unintentionally.
“Hm?”
A dangerous silence settled between them.
Because suddenly Sophia remembered:
his hand near her face,
the almost-kiss,
the way she panicked afterward.
Her heartbeat became annoyingly noticeable again.
“You were right,” she admitted quietly.
Another pause.
“About what?”
“I run when things feel real.”
The honesty frightened her immediately after saying it out loud.
But Adrian’s voice stayed calm.
“Thank you for telling me.”
No teasing.
No pressure.
Just gentle acceptance.
Sophia closed her eyes briefly.
“How are you this patient?”
A soft exhale came through the phone.
“Because I think you’ve spent your whole life expecting people to leave once you become emotionally difficult.”
The sentence hit something painfully vulnerable inside her chest.
Because that was exactly it.
Her father left emotionally long before he physically disappeared.
Her mother stayed physically while emotionally drowning.
Love always seemed conditional on being easy to carry.
And Sophia had never been easy.
Rain continued softly outside.
“Adrian,” she whispered again.
This time his name sounded different.
Softer.
More dangerous.
“Hm?”
Sophia hesitated.
Every instinct told her to retreat again.
Deflect.
Hide.
Instead:
“I wanted you to kiss me that night.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Sophia immediately wanted to launch herself off the thirty-sixth floor.
Excellent.
Wonderful.
Humiliating.
Then Adrian spoke quietly:
“I know.”
Her face burned instantly.
“You’re unbearable.”
“You’re honest tonight.”
“That was a temporary medical condition.”
A quiet laugh escaped him again.
Then softer:
“I wanted to kiss you too.”
Sophia’s chest tightened sharply.
The confession settled heavily between them through the phone line and rain-filled silence.
Not playful anymore.
Real.
Dangerously real.
And somehow—
Sophia realized she wasn’t scared because Adrian wanted her.
She was scared because she wanted him back just as much.
- Writer
