Episode 9. The Distance That Hurt
677 Words
Dalia spent the rest of the day pretending she didn’t feel anything.
Her fingers typed. Her smile stayed polite. Her heart bled quietly.
She watched the elevator numbers blink down to the parking level, Ethan and Lena were gone. A dinner, a merger, a family expectation. And she… the assistant.
Invisible. Replaceable.
By closing time, the office was nearly empty. Dalia packed her bag slowly, each movement heavy with the ache of unspoken feelings. She walked toward the exit, head down
“Leaving without saying goodnight?”
Dalia stopped.
Ethan leaned against the wall near the lobby, hands in his pockets. His tie was loose, jacket over his arm. He looked exhausted, frustrated, but when his eyes found her, something in them softened.
“You’re back early,” Dalia said, keeping her tone emotionless.
“The dinner didn’t matter.”
“Your fiancée seemed to think otherwise.”
“She’s not my fiancée,” he said firmly.
“I heard what she said.”
“I don’t care what she said. I care about what’s true.”
She hugged her bag tighter, turning away. “Ethan, please don’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asked softly.
“Make me hope.”
Silence.
Ethan stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “Dalia, I left because I couldn’t stay there pretending. Not after
“After what?” she whispered. “After you kissed me?”
He swallowed, throat tight. “After you changed everything.”
Her heartbeat lurched. But she couldn’t afford to be foolish.
“You have a world that I don’t belong in,” she said. “A world full of mergers, million-dollar dinners, and women like her.”
“Women like her?” Ethan repeated, voice low. “I don’t want a woman like her.”
“Your father does,” she shot back. “And in your world, his wants matter.”
That hit him.
“Dalia…” His voice cracked slightly. “You think I care about expectations more than I care about you?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she whispered.
Ethan reached out, trying to touch her hand, but she stepped back—just enough to break him.
He had never looked more wounded.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice raw. “Not what the world expects—what you want.”
Her answer was immediate, instinctive.
“I want to protect my heart before I lose myself in something I can’t have.”
He closed his eyes, pain flickering across his face.
A beat of silence.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Ethan said quietly. “Not my father. Not Lena. Not the world. But I can’t fight for us if you’re already running.”
She looked up, tears blazing in her eyes. “And I can’t let myself fall deeper while you’re still chained to them.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Ethan inhaled, collecting every shattered piece of himself.
“If distance is what you need, I’ll give it to you,” he said. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed him. “Just know one thing, Dalia,
He moved closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered,
“I’m not done.”
Her breath hitched.
Then he straightened, nodded once, and walked away.
He didn’t look back.
Dalia, Alone
When she got home that night, she dropped onto her couch and buried her face in her hands.
Why does it hurt like this when nothing even started?
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
I shouldn’t have left without saying this… but I miss you.
Her heart stumbled.
Another message came in.
Ethan:
Don’t shut me out.
Dalia stared at the phone, fighting tears.
She typed slowly.
Dalia:
Goodnight, Ethan.
No heart. No longing. No promises.
Just distance.
She pressed send, turned off her phone, and curled into herself.
Outside, the city buzzed with life.
Inside, her world went painfully quiet.
But neither of them knew…
Lena had seen Ethan texting.
And she wasn’t planning to lose
- Writer
