Chapter 8 Uncomfortable Distance

• The days after the almost-kiss passed in a haze of awkward tension. Celia couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so exposed, so vulnerable. The car ride home, the moment when Alexander’s lips had been just a breath away from hers—it had all seemed like a dream, a dream she’d never fully wake up from. Only, the reality was far worse than any dream.
• The distance between them had become palpable, so thick it was almost suffocating. Alexander had retreated into his usual aloof self, and Celia felt it every time she passed him in the hallway, every time their paths crossed at the dinner table. He would glance at her briefly, but the warmth she had once seen in his eyes was gone. It had been replaced by something distant—something unreadable.
• Celia tried to ignore it, but the weight of his avoidance felt like a constant presence in the back of her mind. She found herself replaying their moment in the car over and over again, wondering what had gone wrong. Had she misread the situation? Had her desire to be close to him made her do something foolish? She had spent countless hours trying to figure out what went wrong, but every answer she came up with only seemed to hurt more.
• It wasn’t like she expected him to kiss her. She hadn’t anticipated that he would react the way he did, pulling away at the last second like it was the most natural thing in the world. She hadn’t expected him to apologize either, but that’s exactly what he did, and the words stung more than she wanted to admit.
• Her only consolation was that he was still there—still in the house, still within her reach. But even when they were in the same room, it felt as though there were an invisible wall between them, one that neither of them dared to tear down.
• That evening, Celia found herself alone in the kitchen, trying to distract herself with a cup of tea. She had spent the past hour pacing back and forth in her room, her thoughts consuming her, and it was only when her stomach started growling that she decided to retreat to the kitchen to calm her nerves.
• The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Celia leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Her eyes drifted to the door, half-expecting Alexander to walk in at any moment. She wasn’t sure why the thought of him walking in caused her stomach to flip—after all, it wasn’t like they had anything to talk about. Not anymore.
• When the kettle finally whistled, she poured the hot water into a cup, watching the steam swirl around her face. She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to feel the constant ache of his absence, but she couldn’t help it.
• She had given him everything—the friendship, the trust, the desire—and now she was left with nothing. The one person she had hoped would understand her, who she had dreamed of, had distanced himself more and more each day. The thought of him pulling away from her felt like a betrayal, even though she knew deep down that it was her own fault for allowing things to get so complicated.
• As she stirred the tea, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She froze, knowing without a doubt who it was.
• “Celia,” Alexander’s voice broke through the silence, low and hesitant. She could hear the tension in his voice, and it made her throat tighten. She didn’t want to face him—not now, not when the air between them was thick with unspoken words.
• She turned slowly, her heart skipping a beat as she looked at him. He was standing near the door, his posture stiff, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked as distant as ever, but there was something in his eyes that made her want to run toward him, to close the gap between them.
• “I—uh—I was just coming to get a drink,” he said, his voice strained, as if he were trying to keep things casual.
• Celia nodded, though the action felt mechanical. “It’s fine. I’m just having tea.”
• There was an awkward pause between them, one that seemed to stretch on forever. Neither of them knew what to say, and Celia hated it. Hated that she had let things get so tangled between them.
• She tried to break the silence, to say something—anything—but the words caught in her throat. “Why are you avoiding me?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper.
• Alexander stiffened, his jaw tightening at the sound of her words. He looked away, his gaze briefly flicking to the floor. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said, though there was no conviction in his voice. “I just... I don’t think this is a good idea.”
• Celia felt her stomach twist at his words. “A good idea?” she repeated, her voice rising despite herself. “What do you mean by that?”
• Alexander sighed, his expression pained as he took a few steps closer, his eyes never quite meeting hers. “Celia, I can’t—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair as though the words were difficult to get out. “This… whatever this is between us—it can’t happen. It’s not... it’s not right.”
• The words stung more than she expected. Her heart clenched, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as a lump formed in her throat. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to hear him justify the distance between them as something that made sense.
• “Why not?” she asked, her voice cracking, barely able to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “Why can’t it happen? You think I’m just some little girl, don’t you? You think this is all some silly crush.”
• Alexander shook his head, though he wouldn’t look at her. “No. That’s not it at all.”
• “Then what is it?” she pressed, her voice rising with frustration. “Why are you pulling away from me, Alexander? What do you want from me?”
• The words were out before she could stop them, and for a moment, she regretted asking. But it was too late now. Her chest felt heavy, her heart racing in her chest, as she waited for him to explain.
• Alexander seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Celia. That’s the last thing I want. But I’ve known you for too long. You’re like family to me.” He ran his hand over his face, and Celia could see the frustration in his features. “And that’s the problem. I can’t... I can’t cross that line.”
• Celia’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart sank lower than it ever had before. She had been so sure, so hopeful that there was something between them, something that could be real. But hearing him say it—he saw her as nothing more than family, nothing more than the daughter of his best friend—shattered everything.
• “So, that’s it?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re just going to ignore everything that happened between us? Pretend it doesn’t matter?”
• Alexander finally met her gaze, his eyes filled with pain. “I’m not pretending it doesn’t matter. But you need to understand, this can’t happen. Not now, not ever.”
• The finality of his words hit Celia like a physical blow. She felt her knees grow weak, and for a moment, the room spun around her. She had never felt more alone in her life.
• Without another word, she turned, the weight of his rejection pressing down on her chest. The silence between them was unbearable, and she didn’t want to hear any more. She couldn’t.
• She had to escape. To get away from him, from the hurt, from the suffocating distance that was growing between them.
• “Celia,” Alexander called after her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.