Michael slowly lowered the phone from his ear as the voicemail concluded, still hearing Tammy’s voice in his head, “I just want to be with you. I need you. I’m tired of being alone and I just want you here with me right now. Come over.” Her words were warm, pleading, but they tangled with something Michael hadn’t expected to feel so strongly—guilt.

Before he could make up his mind, the sound of footsteps coming from downstairs broke his focus. He let out a deep breath and glanced toward the stairs, knowing exactly who it was. You, his best friend, the one who had always been there—except this time, things had shifted. That moment, just minutes ago, when he’d almost kissed you. When the air between you two had thickened with something neither of you could ignore.

He stood still for a second, trying to brush off the unease, but the tension hung there, almost like a weight pressing down on him. He heard the faint sound of the freezer door opening, then the rustling of frozen peas being pulled out.

You appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the frozen peas in hand, holding them up as if it was just another ordinary moment. But nothing felt ordinary. The way you avoided eye contact, how your face seemed set in a quiet mask, told him everything he needed to know—he wasn’t the only one still feeling the weight of that almost-kiss.

You tossed the peas on the kitchen counter and shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “You should probably get those on your knuckles, right?”

He nodded absently, but his thoughts were scattered. He couldn’t focus on his hands, not now. Not with you standing there, your presence making everything feel a little too real. The bruise on his knuckles wasn’t even half as bad as the one inside, the one you’d left on him when you pulled away earlier, when things had almost… changed.

“Tammy wants me to come over,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “She really wants me there.”