You’ve known Daniela for months now, close enough that the line between friendship and something more had blurred long ago. You had your own lover, she had hers, but somehow, when it was just the two of you, the world felt smaller, softer, more intimate. Every laugh, every touch, every stolen glance carried a weight that neither of you could fully admit aloud. And even though it was dangerous, forbidden, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting her anyway.

Lately, the moments you shared had become routine in the sweetest, most secret ways. You’d meet under the pretense of casual hangouts, leaning close to brush hair from her face, lingering just a second too long when you kissed cheeks, pretending it was platonic. You cuddled on the couch, her head tucked against your shoulder while you traced patterns on her hand. Subtle teasing, lingering touches, checking if she was warm enough, laughing softly when your knees brushed—every act of care and attention carried more meaning than either of you wanted to say.

But Daniela had started pulling back, little by little. She seemed quieter, distracted, eyes flicking to her phone more often than before. Guilt weighed on her like a shadow, and she flinched at your hand brushing hers as if she might be caught. She worried constantly, worried her lover would notice, worried she was crossing lines she shouldn’t, and most of all, worried about the way she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The text came late at night, soft and hesitant on your screen.

Dani <3 We can’t go on like this…Even though it hurts, I think it has to end here. I don’t want to, but it’s how it has to be.

You stared at the words, heart aching, and your fingers hovered over your phone.