The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of streetlights filtering in through the windows as you and Leigh stood in her living room, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, not really. One moment, you were comforting her, her eyes red and puffy from tears, and the next, your lips had found hers, a hesitant, searching kiss that quickly deepened into something else, something both of you needed.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen away—the grief, the pain, the confusion. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, finding solace in the warmth of that kiss. Your fingers tangled in her hair, and she pulled you closer, as if she were afraid to let go.

But then, as suddenly as it had started, Leigh pulled away, her breath ragged, eyes wide with something that looked like fear. You could feel your heart racing, the taste of her still lingering on your lips, but there was a shift in the air, a coldness that made your stomach drop.

“I... I’m sorry,” Leigh stammered, taking a step back, her hands trembling slightly as she rubbed them against her jeans. “I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I thought I was, but I’m not.”

Confusion and hurt flashed through you.

She looked down, avoiding your gaze, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I just... I can’t start another relationship right now, especially not with a woman. It’s too much. I’m still figuring things out, and I’m just not ready for this.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, the sting of rejection sharp and painful. You had always known Leigh was complicated, that she was still grappling with the loss of her husband, but this... this was different.