I didn’t sleep much after the laundry room.
Every ti I closed my eyes, I felt her breath. Her forehead against mine. The trembling second before she pulled away.
Every part of scread just a little closer, and every sane part of whispered, you’re losing your mind.
Neither voice won.
So by the ti Milo knocked on my door the next afternoon, I looked like I’d been through a breakup with soone I never officially dated.
He walked in, took one look at , and said:
"Okay. You definitely touched her."
I groaned into my pillow. "Why are you like this?"
"Because I’m emotionally available and deeply committed to being nosy."
He flopped on my bed. "Talk."
"There’s nothing to—"
"Talk."
I sat up. "We almost kissed. Okay?"
His eyes widened. "Holy—"
"But we didn’t. It was just... close. Really close."
He blinked. "Like nose-brushing close or breath-sharing close?"
"Both."
"Dear God."
I dropped my head into my hands. "I’m an idiot."
"No, you’re not."
"I’m catching feelings for my stepmom."
He paused. "Okay. Yes. That part’s idiotic."
I shot him a look.
"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly. "Look, I support you emotionally. But like. In theory. From a distance. Through a moral telescope."
"I didn’t an for this to happen."
"No one ever ans to fall for a walking life-ruiner, Aaron."
"She’s not—"
"Not what? Married to your dad? Living under the sa roof? Making you question the definition of ethical decisions on a daily basis?"
I didn’t answer.
He sighed. "Okay. Honesty hour: Are you in love with her?"
Silence.
I didn’t want to say it out loud.
Because the mont you na a thing, it becos real.
But Milo already knew.
He leaned back. "You’re screwed."
"Thanks."
"I an it. There’s no version of this where everyone cos out fine. You realize that, right?"
"Yeah."
"You gonna do sothing about it?"
"I don’t know."
He looked at for a long ti. Then said, "Well, whatever you do... don’t do it alone."
That Evening
Elena avoided all day.
Not in a cold way. Just a careful way. Like she knew if we made eye contact for too long, sothing would break open again.
She left notes instead of talking.
"Hey, made pasta. Yours is in the fridge."
"Out for a walk. Be back before dinner."
"Please don’t forget to feed the cat. She’s glaring at ."
It was safe. Controlled. A new dance.
But it felt like duct-taping an earthquake.
Around Midnight
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I found her in the living room, curled up under a blanket, pretending to read a book she hadn’t turned a page in for twenty minutes.
I stood in the doorway for a second too long.
She noticed.
"Hey," she said, voice soft.
I stepped closer. "Hey."
She closed the book. "I guess we’re not pretending anymore, huh?"
I shook my head. "I don’t think I can."
She stared at her hands. "I’ve been trying to remind myself of all the reasons this can’t happen."
"And?"
"I ran out of good ones."
I exhaled.
Sat down beside her.
And for a long, long second, neither of us said anything.
Then she whispered, "I’m scared."
" too."
"I don’t want to hurt you."
"I’m already hurt."
She looked up at — and this ti, she didn’t pull away.
Her fingers brushed mine. Not accidental. Not vague.
And just when it felt like the world had shrunk down to the few inches between us—
My dad’s voice echoed from upstairs.
"Elena? You still awake?"
We both jumped like we’d been caught sneaking out of a cri scene.
She stood up fast. "Coming!" she called, too loudly.
She turned to , eyes wild and heart on her sleeve.
Then she mouthed: I’m sorry.
And left.
📘 End of Chapter 11
💬 YOUR TURN!
Milo’s officially in the loop — is he the friend Aaron needs, or the grenade waiting to blow this wide open?
And what do you think Elena will choose, now that the hiding is crumbling?
👇 Drop your guesses and chaotic thoughts below.
❤️ Hit that heart if you’re screaming into your pillow too.
🔔 Follow now, because Chapter 12 is when soone finally says the truth out loud.
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