Apologies
1267 Words
Kate didn’t bring up the elevator.
She didn’t bring up Thompson at all.
That was what unsettled Ella most.
Their apartment had always been loud in its own way—music drifting from Kate’s room, conversations half-finished in the kitchen, the easy overlap of two lives learning how to coexist. Now, the space felt… adjusted. Not quiet. Curated.
Kate still asked how her day was. Still offered her a bite of whatever she was cooking. But she watched more. Listened harder. As if measuring something she hadn’t noticed before.
Ella noticed.
She always did.
Monday evening, Ella came home later than usual, shoulders aching from a long day. She slipped off her shoes by the door and paused when she heard voices in the hallway.
Kate’s laugh—light, practiced.
A deeper voice she recognized instantly.
Thompson.
Ella hesitated, hand still on her bag strap.
“She’s usually home earlier,” Kate was saying. “Work’s been crazy for her lately.”
Ella stepped into view then. “Hey.”
Both of them turned.
Thompson nodded, unsurprised. “Evening.”
Kate smiled brightly. “Speak of the devil.”
Something tightened in Ella’s chest—not jealousy exactly, but awareness.
“Thompson was just helping me carry groceries,” Kate continued. “Can you believe he lives alone with an empty fridge?”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s not accurate.”
Ella smiled faintly. “It absolutely is.”
Kate laughed again, a beat too long. “See? She knows.”
Thompson shifted his weight. “I’ll let you two get settled.”
“Anytime,” Kate said quickly.
Ella met his eyes. Just for a second.
“Goodnight,” she said.
“Night,” he replied.
She watched him walk down the hall to his door, then disappear inside.
The apartment felt smaller afterward.
At work, Jake applied pressure with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to push.
Emails flagged urgent. Meetings stacked back-to-back. Casual remarks framed as advice.
“You’re doing well,” he told her on Wednesday, leaning against her desk. “Just don’t lose focus.”
Ella didn’t look up from her screen. “I won’t.”
He lingered a moment too long, then left.
Thompson noticed. He always did.
Later, as they reviewed figures side by side, he spoke quietly. “You want me to take lead on the next client call?”
Ella shook her head. “No. I’ve got it.”
He searched her face. “Okay.”
Not Are you sure?
Not Let me handle it.
Just okay.
That trust settled deep.
At home, Kate’s presence became impossible to ignore.
She timed dinners so they overlapped with Thompson’s arrival home. Lingered in the hallway when doors opened. Once, Ella walked into the kitchen to find Kate leaning casually against the counter, chatting with Thompson as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“We were just talking about the building,” Kate said. “Can you believe the elevator still isn’t fixed?”
Ella poured herself water. “I believe it.”
Thompson smiled slightly. “I put in another complaint.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Hero.”
Ella said nothing.
Later that night, as they brushed their teeth side by side, Kate spoke around her toothbrush.
“You and Thompson seem close.”
Ella rinsed her mouth before answering. “We work together.”
“Mmm,” Kate hummed. “Still.”
Ella met her gaze in the mirror. “Still what?”
Kate shrugged, suddenly interested in her reflection. “Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
Thursday evening, the power flickered during a storm.
Ella was curled on the couch, book forgotten in her lap, when there was a knock.
Kate looked up. “You expecting someone?”
Ella shook her head and stood.
Thompson stood in the hallway, phone light illuminating his face.
“Power’s out on my side,” he said. “Just wanted to check if you two were okay.”
Kate appeared instantly at Ella’s shoulder. “We’re fine. Want to come in?”
Ella glanced at him. He hesitated, then nodded.
They sat in the living room, candlelight throwing soft shadows across the walls. Conversation stayed light—complaints about the building, jokes about surviving without Wi-Fi.
But under it all, something hummed.
Ella felt it every time Thompson’s gaze found hers and held.
Kate felt it too.
“You two have a thing,” Kate said suddenly, breaking the silence.
The words landed hard.
Ella’s heart skipped. Thompson froze.
“No, we don’t,” Kate added quickly, laughing. “I just mean—you work well together.”
Ella didn’t answer right away.
“Do we?” she asked quietly.
Thompson’s voice was steady. “We do.”
Kate’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Well,” she said, standing. “I’m going to bed. Early morning.”
She disappeared down the hall, leaving the apartment strangely bare.
Thompson shifted. “I should go too.”
Ella nodded.
At the door, he paused. “You okay?”
She met his gaze. “Yeah. I think I am.”
He studied her a moment longer, then nodded and left.
Later, lying in bed, Ella listened to the storm ease outside.
Kate turned over in the next room. Thompson’s footsteps echoed faintly through the shared wall.
Three lives, pressed close together.
No explosions. No confessions.
Just the quiet, undeniable awareness that something had shifted—and this time, none of them could pretend not to feel it.
Kate knocked on Ella’s door that night.
Not the casual tap she usually used. Slower. Careful.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
Ella hesitated, then nodded.
Kate stood just inside the room, arms folded like she didn’t know where to put them. Her voice was lower than usual.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. In the elevator. And… everything after.”
Ella sat on the edge of the bed, listening.
“I shouldn’t have talked about Thompson the way I did,” Kate continued. “I made it sound like he was something to be afraid of. That wasn’t fair.”
Ella didn’t interrupt.
Kate swallowed. “I knew I was wrong while I was doing it. I just didn’t stop.”
Silence stretched.
“I told myself I was protecting you,” Kate said softly. “Because you’ve been hurt before. Because you don’t trust easily. And I didn’t want someone else getting close enough to do damage.”
Her eyes lifted then, glossy but steady. “But that wasn’t the whole truth.”
Ella met her gaze.
“I was scared,” Kate admitted. “And jealous. And instead of dealing with that, I made you doubt something that was actually… good.”
She exhaled, shaky. “I’m sorry.”
Not loud. Not rehearsed.
Real.
Ella nodded slowly. “Thank you for saying it.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged with relief.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” Kate added. “I just needed you to know I see it now. And I won’t do it again.”
Ella held her gaze for a long moment, then said quietly, “I believe you.”
Kate gave a small, grateful smile and stepped back toward the door.
“I really was trying to protect you,” she said. “I just forgot to trust you instead.”
When the door closed, Ella sat alone with the words.
And for the first time, they didn’t feel heavy.
They felt honest.
- Writer
