THE SPACE BETWEEN US

Chapter 13.1

Trace's POV

Grace clears her throat, a soft sound that pulls my attention toward her. I can’t help but watch as her lips move, spilling out the words I don’t want to hear. “Don’t you feel it’s unusual that we’re being asked to learn the new coding language? It’s the developers’ job, not ours. Managers don’t have to do it, so why waste our time?”

Her words are practical, sensible, but they hit me with a strange weight. She's right—we're managers. Our job is to oversee, to guide, not to dive into the technical details of coding. But despite her being completely justified, I can’t shake the hint of disappointment. That coding class wasn’t just about learning for me. It was my chance to spend some extra time with her, to be in her space without the formalities of the office getting in the way. It was a small window, but I had started to cherish it.

She keeps talking, unaware of the silent storm inside me. “Let’s just attend the class for today,” she says, glancing at her screen before looking back at me. “Will you come with me to talk to the boss about this? I mean, there’s no point wasting time on something we don’t need to do, right?”

My throat tightens, and I swallow down the mixture of emotions I can’t quite name. There’s nothing wrong with what she’s saying, but I don’t want to agree with her either. For some reason, I don’t want that class to end, even though I know it’s pointless. I just nod. I don’t trust my voice to say more without betraying the strange sadness tugging at me.

As I nod, she turns her attention back to her screen, her fingers already dancing across the keyboard like it’s no big deal. Meanwhile, I’m still stuck, staring at her side profile, trying to make sense of the odd ache in my chest. Why do I care so much about something as insignificant as a coding class? It’s just an hour, just work. But somehow, with Grace, everything feels different.

Her hair falls loosely over her shoulder, and for a moment, I lose myself in the way the soft office light catches in the strands. The clicking of the keys fills the silence, and I can’t help but think about how these mundane moments with her have started to mean something to me. More than they should.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms as if that will somehow guard me from the thoughts swirling in my head. I need to focus, to push this aside. This is work. She’s my colleague—an assistant manager. Yet, every time she speaks to me, even about something as dry as a coding class, I can’t shake the feeling that I want more. More conversations, more of her time.

“Alright,” she says, snapping me back to reality. “We’ll go talk to him after the class.” She glances over, and for a split second, I think I see something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe? Or am I just imagining it? I quickly look away, clearing my throat, hoping she didn’t catch me staring.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, a little too late. My voice feels rougher than I intended. I hate how I can’t just be normal around her. How even simple things make me feel like I’m treading on thin ice.

It’s ridiculous. I’m the lead manager here, not some lovesick intern. But the thought of going back to business as usual, without that brief hour in the coding class where we were just two people, not two managers...I’m not ready for that.

---

Grace's POV

The day drags on, yet somehow flies by with Trace seated right in front of me. I’ve spent the past few hours typing, but my mind’s been elsewhere, caught between the work on my screen and the man only a few feet away. It’s strange, really—being around him like this. So close, so constant. I never imagined I’d have a day where I could see him like this. Just him, uninterrupted. And God, he’s beautiful.

But the beauty of him only adds to the weight in my chest. I can’t shake the complaints that have lodged themselves in my heart over the past three years. Three long years since I stopped texting him, since I decided it was better to build a wall than let him in again. It was safer that way. Or at least, I thought it was. But now, sitting here, with him so close, the fear comes flooding back. I’m terrified to let him in again. What if things go wrong, like they did before? What if I end up hurt again?

My thoughts spiral as the clock ticks closer to the end of our official schedule. The moment we’ve been avoiding is here, and as our day wraps up, Trace’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the office. He calls my name softly, drawing my attention as he gestures for me to come closer, to move to his table so we can start the coding class. The one the boss insisted we attend.

I stand up, my chair scraping lightly against the floor as I make my way over. Without a word, Trace rises, helping me bring my chair closer beside his, like a gentleman. It’s such a small gesture, yet it sends a jolt through me. We sit side by side, closer than we’ve been all day, and the air feels heavy with unspoken words. He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his gaze brushing against me every few moments, just as I steal glances at him, careful not to let him notice.

But it’s hard to ignore how being this close makes me feel. How my heart races despite the simple act of sitting next to him. All the while, I wonder—what is he thinking? Does he feel this strange pull between us too? Or is it just me, caught up in my own thoughts, scared of the past and even more scared of the future.

Just as I settle into my chair beside Trace, ready to start the class, my phone buzzes on the table. A familiar name pops up on the screen:

Leo: 'Where are you? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.' My thumb hovers over the screen for a moment, and a wave of guilt washes over me. Leo has always been someone I could count on, but lately, I've kept a distance. I glance at Trace from the corner of my eye—he's focused on his laptop, or at least he’s trying to seem that way. I know he noticed the message.

I open the text and quickly type back, 'In a class. I’ll catch up with you later.' I place the phone face down, but the tension in the air thickens. Trace shifts in his seat, still avoiding eye contact, but the change in his demeanor is impossible to miss. His movements, so fluid just moments ago, now feel stiff, deliberate.

“Was that important?” His voice is calm, but I can sense the sadness behind the question.

---

Trace's POV

My heart tightens as I catch a glimpse of that message. Leo. Again. It’s always him, isn’t it? I try to focus on the screen, on the class we’re about to start, but all I can think about is how Grace's attention shifts the moment he contacts her. She always has that smile when she talks to him, I think; my chest tightening further. I want to ask her who he really is to her. What their history is. But I bite my tongue, not wanting to come off as insecure. Still, it bothers me more than I care to admit. I had hoped that this time—this hour—would be ours, but now it feels like someone else is intruding on our moment.

She places the phone down, and I glance at her. She looks a little tense, maybe uncomfortable, as though she can sense how I’m feeling. I want to ask her if she’s okay, if we are okay, but instead, I lean back in my chair and try to focus on the class. I can’t help but feel like I’m losing her before I even had her.

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Grace's POV

There’s an undeniable shift in Trace’s behavior. He’s quiet now, too quiet. His body language has changed—he’s leaning back, distancing himself from me, even though we’re seated side by side. I feel the weight of his unspoken questions, but I don’t know what to say. I can’t explain Leo to him right now. It’s complicated. Leo has been a part of my life for a while now, but what Trace doesn't know is that there’s nothing more than friendship between us. I wish I could tell him that without making things awkward.

The class begins, but my mind keeps drifting. I wonder if Trace thinks I’m hiding something. His silence is making me nervous, and I keep sneaking glances at him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Yet, every time our eyes meet, he quickly looks away.

Trace’s hand moves quickly as he jots down notes, his pen gliding across the page with precision. Every few moments, he pauses the video to check on me. “Do you want to take a break, or should we keep going?” His voice is soft but attentive, and he looks at me with those caring eyes, as if he's truly worried about how I'm doing. I nod, offering a small smile, even though my mind is far from here. I barely care about this class—it's not even relevant to what we do, and the frustration of having to sit through it is gnawing at me.

But Trace... he's so close. The warmth radiating from his body pulls me in, and as much as I try to focus on the material, all I can think about is how I wish I could rest my head on his strong shoulders, close my eyes, and forget about everything. My body feels heavier than usual, worn down from the emotional weight of the day. What if I just leaned into him for a second? Would he pull away, or would he hold me?

Without realizing it, I’ve been staring at him. Shamelessly. My gaze tracing the line of his arms, the way his muscles move beneath his shirt as he shifts. My heart races when I catch his eyes on me. He’s noticed.

Trace completely turns towards me, his body now angled directly at mine, and pauses the video. His brows knit together as he studies my face, his voice low and gentle, “Grace, are you too tired?” His question breaks through the fog of my thoughts, and I feel a sudden lump in my throat. The concern in his tone, the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters in this moment... it overwhelms me. I can barely hold it together.

I press my lips together and look down, blinking back the sting of tears I hadn’t expected. I don’t trust my voice to answer, so I nod again, my fingers trembling slightly as I grip the edge of my chair. I’m not just tired—I’m exhausted, in more ways than I can explain.

Without waiting for a full response, Trace leans forward, his hand gently brushing against mine on the table. His touch is warm, grounding me. “It’s okay” he whispers, “We don’t have to push through this. If you need to rest, just say the word.” His gaze is so steady, so filled with a quiet understanding, that for a moment I wonder how he can read me so well.

The desire to collapse into him, to feel his arms around me, is almost too much to bear. I just want to let go, but I force myself to stay upright. This is work, I remind myself, not a place for falling apart. But as I look at him, I realize that with Trace, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let my guard down just this once.

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Trace's POV

I notice Grace isn’t really focused on the class anymore. She’s distant, her eyes half on the screen but not absorbing a thing. I call her name softly, “Grace?” Her head turns just slightly, but she’s still lost somewhere far away from here. The tiredness in her face tells me something else is going on.

I can’t stand it anymore. I reach out, my left hand gently brushing her jawline as I turn her face away from the cold glow of the computer screen and towards me. Her eyes finally meet mine, and that’s when I see it—the glisten of tears pooling in her eyes, one already spilling down her cheek. My chest tightens as I realize how deeply something is weighing on her, and my hand trembles slightly as I bring my other hand up to cradle her face.

“Grace,” I whisper again, more tenderly this time, wiping away the tear that fell. She closes her eyes for a brief second as if trying to compose herself, but I can feel her resistance crumbling.

I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs softly brushing across her skin as I clear the rest of her tears. Her skin is warm beneath my touch, but her eyes—her beautiful eyes are clouded with emotions that I desperately want to understand. My heart aches seeing her like this, vulnerable in a way she doesn’t show to anyone. She’s always so strong, always holding everything together. But right now, she’s letting me in, even if just a little.

---

Grace’s POV

The moment Trace touches my face, everything inside me breaks. I can’t keep pretending like I’m fine anymore. His hands are so gentle, so careful as if I’m something fragile he’s afraid to hurt. His thumb grazes my cheek, wiping away another tear, and I feel my heart tighten. I try to breathe, but the air feels heavy, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

I close my eyes, not able to face him fully, but I feel his hands steadying me, keeping me grounded when all I want to do is fall apart. He’s so close, and the warmth of his palms against my skin is the only thing keeping me from breaking down completely.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I even realize I’m saying them. I feel a sob rise in my chest, and I try to swallow it down, but it’s too late. My body gives in to the exhaustion, the weight of everything I’ve been carrying, and I lean forward, my forehead gently pressing against his chest.

His arms wrap around me instinctively, pulling me closer in a way that feels like home. It’s not just comfort—it’s something deeper. Something I’ve been longing for. Trace holds me as if he’s been waiting to do this for years, his breath steadying as his hands stroke my back.

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Trace’s POV

When Grace leans into me, I feel everything inside me shift. I’ve wanted to hold her for so long, but this... this feels different. It’s not just about desire—it’s about being there for her in a way I’ve always wanted to be but never had the chance. My arms tighten around her, pulling her as close as I can, and for a moment, it’s like nothing else matters.

Her head rests against my chest, and I can feel the rise and fall of her breath, shaky at first but slowly calming down as I hold her. I’ve never seen her this vulnerable, and it tears me apart knowing how much she’s been holding in. All I want to do is take away her pain, to be the one she can rely on, but I know I can’t just fix everything with one embrace.

But I can hold her now. And I do. My fingers thread through her hair as I whisper, “You don’t have to do this alone, Grace. I’m here.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her body softens against mine, and that’s enough. For now, it’s enough to just be here with her, in this quiet, emotional moment, holding onto each other like it’s all we’ve ever needed.

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