Under The Same Umbrella

Things We Don't Say

Chapter 7

Mia didn’t reply to Leo’s message that night.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t know what to say.

Friend.

That word kept echoing in her head like a dripping faucet she couldn’t turn off.

She told herself it was fine. He didn’t owe her anything. They weren’t official. They weren’t even whatever this was.

And yet

When Sunday morning came, she still hadn’t answered his “You home safe?” message from last night.

By late afternoon, the rain returned, heavier than before. Mia sat curled up on her couch, a blanket over her legs, staring at the glow of her phone screen. Three missed calls. Seven unread messages.

Leo: “Mia. Please answer.”

Leo: “If you need space, fine. Just… let me know you’re okay.”

Leo: “I’m coming over.”

Her chest tightened. She typed quickly: “Don’t. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

The reply came instantly:

Leo: “Then don’t talk. Just open the door.”

Before she could process that, the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to find him standing there, drenched to the bone, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his jacket. No umbrella. No helmet. Just Leo, breathing hard like he’d run all the way.

“Are you insane?” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside before the neighbors saw.

“Maybe,” he said, voice rough. “You weren’t answering.”

She crossed her arms, refusing to meet his eyes. “I told you I didn’t want to talk.”

“Then don’t talk. Just listen.”

Something in his tone made her look up. His jaw was tight, eyes stormy like the sky outside.

“I didn’t lie to you,” he said. “Andrea, she’s someone from my past. That’s all.”

Mia let out a short, humorless laugh. “Someone from your past who still looks at you like you belong to her.”

“And I don’t,” he said firmly. “I haven’t for a long time.”

“Then why didn’t you correct her?”

“Because you looked. hurt. And I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“That makes no sense, Leo.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said, stepping closer. Water from his jacket soaked into the carpet, but neither of them cared. “Because if I’d said anything more, I would’ve had to say it all. And I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.”

Mia’s heart pounded. “Say what?”

“That I’m done pretending this is nothing,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “That every time it rains, I hope it keeps pouring just so I have an excuse to stay under the same umbrella with you.”

Her breath caught.

“And that last night,” he continued, closing the space between them, “when Andrea walked in and called you a friend, I wanted to tell her she was wrong.”

The air between them burned. His hair dripped onto her shoulder as he leaned in just enough for her to feel his breath against her cheek.

“Tell her what?” she whispered.

“That you’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t feel like a mistake.”

The room went silent except for the rain pounding against the windows. His hand lifted slowly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, fingers lingering against her skin.

Mia’s resolve melted with every heartbeat. She hated how much she wanted this wanted him.

When his lips hovered just a breath away, thunder cracked outside, loud and violent. She flinched, and reality came crashing back.

“Leo...” she whispered, pulling back slightly, though her hands trembled. “I can’t...… not like this.”

He searched her eyes for a long moment, then nodded once not angry, just...… defeated.

“Then tell me when,” he said softly. “Because I’ll wait. Just...… don’t shut me out.”

Before she could answer, he stepped back, water pooling where he’d stood. He left without another word, the door closing with a quiet finality that hurt more than she expected.

Mia pressed her back to the door, her chest rising and falling like she’d just surfaced from deep water.

Outside, the rain didn’t stop. Inside, neither did her heart.