The next day, Emily tried to act normal, but her thoughts were a mess. She went through the motions at work, attending meetings, responding to emails, and even forcing herself to smile and laugh with her colleagues, but her mind was elsewhere.
The image of Ryan at the gala, standing beside that woman in the red dress, played on a loop in her head, and no matter how hard she tried to push it aside, the doubt and insecurity kept creeping back in. It didn't help that Alex noticed something was off when they bumped into each other at the café during a quick coffee run.
"Hey," he said later, as they left a meeting together, his tone casual but his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"
Emily hesitated, her fingers tightening around the folder she was holding. "Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."
Alex raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Liar," he said bluntly, his voice gentle but firm.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she gave up the pretense. "It's Ryan," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex's expression tightened, but he kept his voice neutral, his tone careful as if he were treading on thin ice. "What happened?"
Emily debated telling him, unsure if she wanted to open up about something so personal, but the frustration and confusion bubbling inside her were too much to hold back. She pulled out her phone and showed him the picture, her stomach twisting as she watched his eyes scan the screen.
Alex studied it for a moment, his expression unreadable, before looking back at her. "Did you ask him about it?"
Emily shook her head, her throat tightening. "Not yet."
Alex exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he seemed to weigh his words carefully. "Emily, look… I know I'm not the right person to give advice about this, but…" He hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Are you sure he's really changed?"
Emily's breath caught, the question hitting her like a punch to the chest. She wanted to say yes, to defend Ryan and the progress they had made, but the doubt in Alex's voice mirrored the uncertainty she had been trying to ignore.
"I mean, I get that he says he's serious now," Alex continued, his tone gentle but firm, "but he's still the same guy who once made you feel like you weren't a priority. Can you really trust that this time is different?"
Emily's chest tightened, her mind racing as she tried to process his words. She wanted to believe that Ryan had changed, that he was truly committed to making things work this time, but the fear of getting hurt again was a heavy weight on her heart.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I want to believe him, but… I'm scared."
Alex nodded, his expression sympathetic but his gaze steady. "That's fair," he said softly. "Just… don't forget to put yourself first, okay? You deserve someone who makes you feel like a priority, not an afterthought."
Emily swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with unshed tears as she nodded. She knew Alex was right, but the thought of walking away from Ryan, of giving up on what they had, felt like an impossible choice.
For now, all she could do was take it one step at a time—and hope that, whatever happened, she would come out stronger on the other side.
That evening, Ryan texted again.
Ryan: Are you okay? You've been quiet today.
Emily stared at her phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of her living room. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say but couldn't bring herself to. For a split second, she almost typed out: Who's the woman in the picture? The question burned in her chest, demanding to be asked, but the fear of what his answer might be held her back. Instead, she replied with a short, clipped message: Just busy. Talk later.
Ryan's response was immediate.
Ryan: Emily…
The ellipsis at the end of his text felt heavy, loaded with unspoken words and questions she wasn't ready to face. She turned off her phone, tossing it onto the couch beside her as if it were a live grenade. She needed time. Space. Something. Because right now, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. What if he told her it was nothing, that the woman was just a colleague, and she was overreacting? What if he admitted it was something more? Either way, the thought of having that conversation filled her with a dread she couldn't shake.
Emily spent the next few days keeping her distance. She wasn't avoiding Ryan completely—she couldn't, not when they worked together—but she wasn't going out of her way to talk to him either. She kept their interactions brief and professional, her tone polite but distant whenever they crossed paths in the office. When he texted, she replied with short, noncommittal answers, careful not to give him any openings to ask what was wrong. She told herself it was for the best, that she needed this time to sort through her feelings, but deep down, she knew she was stalling.
The truth was, she was scared. Scared of what his answers might reveal, scared of how much it would hurt if he confirmed her worst fears, and scared of how much it would hurt if he didn't. Because even if the woman in the picture was just a colleague, the fact that he hadn't mentioned her, hadn't even hinted at the event, made Emily feel like she was still on the outside looking in. And that was a feeling she wasn't sure she could handle again.
So she kept her distance, throwing herself into her work and trying to ignore the ache in her chest every time her phone buzzed with a message from Ryan. She told herself she was being strong, that she was protecting herself, but the truth was, she was just buying time. Time to figure out what she wanted, what she deserved, and whether Ryan was really capable of giving it to her.
As the days went by, the silence between them grew heavier, almost too much to bear. Emily kept telling herself she was fine, but deep down, she missed him. She missed his laugh, the way he looked at her like she was the only one who mattered, the way he made her feel seen and valued.
It was late in the afternoon, the office nearly empty, when it happened. Emily sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen, lost in thought—until her phone buzzed with a text from Ryan.
Ryan: Emily, we need to talk. Please.
The words hit her hard, and before she could stop it, the tears came. Her eyes filled, spilling over before she had a chance to hold them back. She grabbed her bag and rushed to the empty conference room down the hall, struggling to breathe as she tried to stay composed.
But once she was alone, everything broke loose. She dropped into a chair, buried her face in her hands, and let the tears fall. All the feelings she had tried to hide—the hurt, the doubt, the fear—poured out.
Why was this so hard? Why did it feel like no matter what she did, she was losing? If she asked Ryan the truth, it might break her. But staying silent left her with nothing but questions and worst-case thoughts. And through it all, she missed him. She missed how he made her feel, how he looked at her, how he made her laugh. But deep down, she was scared that maybe she just wasn't enough.