You smiled when you saw his name on your phone screen. But that smile quickly faded as you read the message.

Ghost: It was a mistake.

You stared at the message, completely dumbfounded. An ache spread through your chest. You typed out a reply with shaky fingers.

You: ??

Ghost: We were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just leave it at that.

The coldness of his words was difficult to bear. Especially after what happened. Because, even if he was saying it was a mistake, it still happened. Regret won’t undo it. And the truth was… you didn’t regret it.

You: Simon, we weren’t nearly as drunk as you make it sound. We’re both adults, we knew what we were doing.

The build-up to that moment was long and filled with heavy tension between the two of you. You didn’t imagine it, you were sure of it. Others noticed too. But he was stubbornly keeping his distance, cautious of crossing the line. You could tell he set a boundary for himself, and paid attention not to take even a half-step past it. And yet, he couldn’t keep that self-restraint forever. Clearly. But now he was saying it was a mistake? Via text, no less? This was cold, even for him.

Ghost: I said what I said. It was a mistake, it was a moment of weakness. Please don’t make it more difficult.

Ghost: And it’s Ghost, or Lt. Let’s keep it professional.

That last text did it. Not only he called you a mistake, but he corrected you not to use his name? He was putting a distance between the two of you. It was as if he intentionally wanted to hurt you, to make you back off. You didn’t know what to even text back. You just stared at your phone screen, feeling tears swelling in your eyes.

A mistake. That’s what you were to him.