The city lights twinkled outside Alison's apartment window as she sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at her laptop screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the files she had stolen from Henry's company ready to be sent to her employer. The message she'd typed in the email was brief, direct, and emotionless:
*"Files attached. Expect further instructions."*
But her hand wouldn't move to click "Send."
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision crushing her. She had come this far. All she had to do was press a button, and it would be over. The mission would be complete. Her employer would be satisfied, and she would have proven herself to them. Yet, her heart ached, and her mind was flooded with doubts.
In the quiet of her apartment, Henry's words echoed in her mind: "Trust, once broken, is hard to repair." She had seen the hurt in his eyes, the guarded look that replaced the warmth he usually showed her. She had never intended to care about Henry. He was supposed to be just a target, a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, she had started to see him differently.
She was starting to see him as a man—an imperfect, complex, and unexpectedly kind man—who had trusted her with his company, his time, and maybe even his heart.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a call from Henry.
For a moment, she stared at the screen, her heart racing. She had no idea what he might say, but something compelled her to answer.
"Hello?" she said, her voice shaky.
"Alison, it's Henry," he said, sounding a bit off. "Are you… free tonight?"
Her pulse quickened. "Yes, I'm free. Why?"
There was a brief pause on the line, and then he spoke again, softer this time, almost hesitant. "I was hoping we could talk. I need to see you."
Alison's heart pounded. She could sense something was different in his tone, something urgent, yet uncertain. "Okay," she agreed, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice. "Where do you want to meet?"
"Let's keep it simple," he suggested. "Can I come over?"
Alison's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected that. "Sure," she finally managed to say, glancing around her apartment, suddenly conscious of its state. "Come by whenever you're ready."
"I'm already on my way," he replied, and the line went dead.
Alison stared at her phone, her mind reeling. She knew she needed to act quickly. She closed her laptop, slid it under a stack of books, and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. What could Henry possibly want to discuss at this hour? Was this about work, or something more personal?
---
Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded at her door. She jumped, her nerves on edge, and quickly moved to open it. Henry stood there, his expression hard to read—somewhere between weary and determined. He had discarded his usual suit jacket and looked slightly disheveled, as if he had come straight from the office without a second thought.
"Henry," she greeted, forcing a smile. "Come in."
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the small, tidy living room before settling back on her. "Thanks for letting me come by," he said, his tone unusually soft.
"Of course," she replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"No, thank you," he said, shaking his head. He sat down on the edge of the sofa, looking more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. "I… I just needed to talk to you. I've been thinking about a lot of things lately. And I realized there's something I need to say before it's too late."
Alison's heart hammered in her chest. She tried to keep her expression neutral, even though a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. "Okay," she said slowly, sitting across from him. "I'm listening."
He looked down at his hands, rubbing them together as if trying to find the right words. "I've always been a private person," he began. "I've built walls around myself because… well, that's just how I've survived in this business. But you… you've managed to break through those walls. You've made me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."
Alison swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat. This wasn't what she had expected.
Henry continued, his voice steady but quiet. "I know we've had our differences. I know you've questioned my decisions, pushed back in ways that frustrated me. But you've also challenged me, made me think differently. And somewhere along the way, I realized that I've started to… care about you, more than I should."
Alison's breath caught, and she felt her chest tighten with conflicting emotions. "Henry, I—"
He held up a hand to stop her. "Let me finish," he said. "I don't know if this is the right time or the right way to say it, but I can't keep pretending that I don't feel something for you. I'm not asking for anything in return, but I needed you to know."
She sat there, stunned. The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and it cut through her like a knife. She had expected him to confront her, to press her about his suspicions, but this? This raw, honest confession? It was the last thing she had prepared for.
Her mind raced. She could feel the USB drive in her pocket, like a burning weight, a secret she was dying to tell but couldn't. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, and she blinked them back, taking a deep breath.
"Henry, I don't know what to say," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I've been feeling confused, too. About you. About all of this."
He leaned forward, his expression earnest. "I don't need an answer right now, Alison. I just… I needed to be honest with you. And I hope you can be honest with me, too. About everything."
Her heart dropped. "What do you mean?"
Henry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've noticed some things, Alison. Little things that don't add up. Your background, your behavior… I know you're hiding something. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I'm getting close to finding out. And I'd rather hear it from you."
Alison's mind went blank. He knew. Or at least he suspected. She could deny it, play dumb, pretend like she didn't understand, but she was tired of lying—tired of this double life. She looked into his eyes and saw something she hadn't expected: hope. He wanted to believe her, to trust her.
She took a deep breath. "Henry, there's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice trembling. "Something I've been hiding. And it's… it's not what you think."
He nodded slowly, urging her to continue.
"I didn't come to your company by accident," she confessed, feeling her throat tighten with every word. "I was… I was sent there. I was hired by a rival firm to spy on you, to gather information. That's why I'm here."
Henry's face went pale, and he leaned back, his eyes widening. "You're serious?"
"Yes," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks now. "But it's not as simple as it seems. At first, it was just a job. I didn't know you. I didn't care about the company or about you. But then… I started to care. About everything. And now, I don't know what to do."
Henry stood up, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. "So, all of this—everything between us—was just part of your plan?"
"No," Alison protested, standing up too. "Not all of it. Not anymore. I swear, Henry, I didn't expect to feel this way. I didn't expect any of this."
He looked away, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what to believe," he said quietly. "You've been lying to me this whole time."
"Henry, please," Alison begged, stepping closer, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"I need time to think," he said, his voice cold. "I need to figure out if I can ever trust you again."
Alison felt her heart break as she watched him turn and walk out the door without another word. She sank onto the sofa, her head in her hands, the weight of her actions crashing down on her. She had come clean, but at what cost?
As the door closed behind him, she realized she might have lost him forever.