Felix had always believed himself to be a man hard to move, hard to impress. Years in the corporate world had sharpened his edges, taught him the art of detachnt. He had seen countless people co and go, with their smiles, their masks, their convenient loyalties. He thought himself immune to sentint.
But Katherine had undone that illusion without even trying.
She had been heavily pregnant then, her belly full and round, her body moving slower than usual, though she stubbornly refused to acknowledge the strain. He rembered standing by the window in the office, pretending to check sothing on his phone, while in truth, his eyes kept straying toward her. Katherine had just returned from an errand, one arm balancing a paper bag of groceries, the other hand carrying a stack of folders.
Her face was pale, frad by strands of hair clinging to her temple. She should have looked exhausted, maybe even vulnerable, but she didn’t.
And for the first ti, Felix felt sothing stir in him. Not desire. Not even admiration. It was... sympathy. A pang he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.
He rembered how his throat had tightened as she set the groceries on the counter, her movents steady though her fingers trembled faintly.
"Why are you carrying all that yourself?" he had asked before he could stop himself.
Katherine startled, her head snapping toward him. For a mont, her eyes widened, then quickly narrowed, a shield snapping into place. "Because they’re mine," she replied, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
Felix had chuckled softly, though the sound ca out rough. "You’re going to make look bad, you know. Letting a pregnant woman haul around groceries while I stand here useless."
"You’re not useless," she said, though her tone was polite and brisk, almost dismissive. She adjusted the stack of folders with a practiced movent, refusing to et his gaze. "You’re just... busy."
"Busy doesn’t an blind," Felix countered, crossing the small distance between them. He reached out, his hand brushing the edge of the bag. "Here. Let -"
But Katherine jerked it out of reach. "I said I can handle it."
Her voice wasn’t sharp, but firm. A line drawn.
Felix stopped, his hand still half-raised. He saw the flicker in her eyes then, sothing deeper than pride. It was fear. Fear of being dependent. Fear of letting anyone close enough to hurt her again.
And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that look only deepened his resolve.
From that day on, Felix found himself noticing her in ways he hadn’t before. The way she always pushed herself a little harder than necessary. How she brushed off concern with a nod, how she masked her fatigue behind a smile for the twins, how her laughter, when it slipped free, sounded as though she had forgotten, just for a mont, to guard herself.
He stayed longer after work. At first, he told himself it was coincidence. But really, he lingered because he couldn’t shake the image of Katherine struggling against the weight of her world alone.
Felix made himself a silent promise. He’d be there for her. In whatever way she’d let him.
As a friend, at the very least.
Maybe more, soday, but that wasn’t the point. It didn’t matter what role he played. What mattered was that she didn’t have to carry everything alone anymore. That soone saw her. That soone gave a damn when she pushed too hard or laughed too little.
It wasn’t about saving her. Katherine didn’t need saving. She was far too strong for that. No, this was about standing beside her. So when the weight of the world pressed in again, she didn’t have to hold it up alone.
He’d carry part of it.
He thought of the way she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear when she was thinking too hard, how her voice lowered when she spoke to the twins like she was trying not to wake sothing fragile in the air around them. She cared so deeply, so fiercely. And it showed, even in the cracks.
Felix had never admired anyone the way he admired her.
It beca a pattern. He teased, she resisted. He offered, she declined. But beneath every deflection, Felix sensed sothing else. A wall. A fortress she had built around herself brick by brick, and each ti he pressed gently against it, she reinforced it.
But he didn’t mind.
In fact, he found himself smiling privately each ti she turned him away. Because even rejection from Katherine ant he had earned a response, a spark of her attention.
One late evening, they were side by side in the small kitchen. Katherine was chopping vegetables, while Felix leaned lazily against the counter, sleeves rolled up, watching her with the kind of focus he usually reserved for negotiations.
"You’re staring," Katherine said without looking up.
Felix grinned. "Can you bla ? You look better than half the models they plaster on magazine covers."
She paused, her knife hovering mid-air, before she shot him a flat look. "Focus on your chopping job, Felix."
He laughed, unbothered, and went back to dicing the onions. But inside, his chest felt strangely lighter, as though her rebuke was its own kind of reward.
Sotis, when she thought he wasn’t looking, he caught the faintest trace of amusent in her eyes.
It was in those fleeting expressions that Felix began to hope.
He didn’t rush. He knew better than that. Katherine was still healing, her past wounds raw and unspoken. She didn’t need confessions or declarations. She needed soone who would stay.
So Felix stayed.
And though he wanted to tell her how much he admired her, how her strength humbled him, how her laughter kept him awake at night replaying in his head, he swallowed it down.
And if one day, she turned to him, not just out of need, but trust, he’d be there. Always.
Whatever she needed. Friend, or more.
He didn’t care.
He would wait.
Because she was worth waiting for..
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