LOVE ON THE LINE

"How could you betray me like this?" Her voice cracked, and the room seemed to freeze, colder than the winter air outside.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he muttered, his tone low, guarded. "It was never supposed to go this far."

The tension was palpable, thick enough to choke on. His broad shoulders, stiff and unyielding, faced her, his back turned as if he couldn't bear to meet her gaze.

"Don't pretend like you didn't know!" She took a step closer, her hands trembling, her breath shaky. Her long, dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of hurt and anger. "You've always known."

He ran a hand through his short, messy hair, the tiredness evident in the lines of his jaw. "I couldn't tell you. You wouldn't understand."

"Understand? Do you think I *don't* understand? After everything, after all these years—" her voice faltered, but she caught herself, unwilling to show weakness. "I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other."

He turned then, his sharp eyes locking onto hers, filled with a storm of regret. "That's the problem. We've never been honest with each other."

Silence lingered between them like an uninvited guest.

Beep Beep Beep....

Her phone alarm jolted her awake. Groaning, she reached out blindly for it, knocking a few books off the edge of her cluttered nightstand in the process. With one eye barely open, she hit 'snooze,' and collapsed back onto her pillow. Her room, though small, had a cozy charm to it. Books were everywhere—stacked on the floor, shoved into a bookshelf too small for her collection. The morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over her messy bed and the half-written manuscript scattered across her desk.

"Late again," she mumbled to herself.

She pushed herself out of bed, her long hair tangled from sleep, and glanced at the mirror. Dark eyes stared back at her, slightly puffy from staying up too late, working on her latest novel. She sighed, brushing a few stray strands behind her ear before grabbing a cozy oversized sweater from the chair.

Downstairs, she hastily made a cup of coffee, throwing her laptop into her worn leather bag. Her fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, a small frown tugging at her lips. "Was that dream again? The one where--"She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

He pulled on his crisp, tailored jacket, buttoning it with a practiced precision that reflected his daily routine. His reflection in the mirror was as it always was—sharp, collected, and unreadable.

The fitted charcoal suit brought out the lines of his broad frame, and his neatly combed hair only added to the air of control he exuded.But his eyes. They betrayed him. The fatigue beneath them, the way they lingered on the briefcase by the door, told another story. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing deeply. It wasn't like he *wanted* to go to the office today. But duty called. It always did.

His phone buzzed—another urgent meeting notification. Of course. Always something. He grabbed the phone off his sleek kitchen counter, eyes narrowing slightly as he read the message.

"Great," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Another crisis."

Pulling on his black overcoat, he stepped into his polished shoes and headed out the door. The winter air hit him immediately, cold and sharp, but he didn't flinch. His mind was already elsewhere—work, meetings, projects. Always something to fix, always something to control. His car was waiting outside, gleaming in the snow-covered driveway. But today, he decided to walk.

The cold bit at her cheeks as she hurried down the sidewalk, her bag bouncing against her side. She was late again, like always. The campus wasn't too far from her apartment, but winter made everything feel farther, like every step through the icy streets was a battle. Her breath puffed out in small clouds as she walked, her thoughts racing faster than her feet.

"I need to finish that chapter tonight." 

But the manuscript deadline wasn't the only thing on her mind.

She had just made it to the crosswalk when a familiar car caught her eye. She knew that car—a sleek, expensive thing that didn't belong on her side of town.

"Of course," she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. 

"He always knows how to make an entrance." 

She hadn't seen him in months, not since—well, not since that last family dinner. The one where he'd barely looked at her, let alone spoken to her.

She glanced at her watch. She didn't have time for this. But as she stepped off the curb, her foot caught on a patch of ice.

"Whoa—"

A hand grabbed her arm, steadying her just as she was about to fall. She looked up, ready to thank whoever had saved her from face-planting into the street. And there he was.Of all the people she could've run into today, it had to be him. His hand, strong and warm even through the layers of winter clothing, lingered on her arm for just a moment too long before he let go.

"Careful," he said, his voice low, almost distant.

She blinked, staring at him for a second too long. He looked just like she remembered—tall, annoyingly composed, and dressed in that expensive suit of his. His eyes, though, seemed a bit darker, as if something had been keeping him up at night."I'm fine," she said quickly, pulling her arm back. Her face felt hot, and it wasn't just from the cold.

"Are you sure?" His gaze swept over her, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his expression. "You look... distracted."Her lips twitched into a forced smile. "I could say the same for you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're late."

She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way her heart raced in her chest. "So are you."

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, the ghost of a smirk. "I don't do late."

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Because *you're* perfect."

"And you're still the same," he replied, his tone dry, but something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. The snow fell softly around them, and the city's noise faded into the background. It was just the two of them, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, like the universe had decided this exact moment was necessary. 

She finally broke the silence, clearing her throat. "I need to go. Classes start soon."

"Right." His voice was cool again, back to business. "Work calls."

They turned away at the same time, heading in opposite directions. But before she could fully step away, he spoke again."It's been a while."

She paused, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Yeah. It has."

And just like that, the cold morning air seemed a little heavier, as if the past wasn't quite as far behind them as they had both thought.....