It was meant to stay in your notebook. Just a page of thoughts you never intended to share. About how steady she felt to you, how often your mind drifted back to her when you couldn’t sleep.

Emily found it anyway, folded behind a report you turned in. She didn’t mention it at work. Not until she showed up at your door that night.

She held the page in her hand. “Did you mean it?” she asked quietly. “The part about not being able to sleep because you keep thinking about me?”