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mattsfrenchtoast · 11 days ago

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nooo I'm heartbroken...

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [09]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: slightly suggestive, kissing, angst

wc: 5834

Chapter 9: I've Been Thinking About You

I woke up earlier than usual, the sun barely pushing through the curtains. Today wasn’t just any Friday—Noah was coming home.

My big brother had been gone for what felt like forever, buried under textbooks and mock trials at law school, and even though we talked on the phone, it wasn’t the same as having him here. I missed the way he filled our apartment with his loud music and sarcastic comments. I missed having him around.

So, I cleaned and cleaned.

I started with the living room, vacuuming every corner even though it was already spotless. Then I moved to the kitchen—wiping the counters, reorganizing the spice rack, refolding the dish towels. Anything to keep my hands busy.

I kept glancing at the clock. He said he’d be driving back this morning, should be here by late afternoon. I had hours to kill.

After showering and pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I changed into comfy sweats and a tank top. I got to work in the kitchen next. Cooking always calmed me. I made his favorite—creamy chicken alfredo, with garlic bread and a salad I knew he probably wouldn’t touch, but I still made it because… well, I’m me.

I set the table, even though I knew he’d probably just grab a plate and eat on the couch. But I didn’t care.

The apartment smelled like garlic and basil, and everything felt warm and homey.

I wiped my hands on a dish towel and looked around the apartment with a small smile. It was quiet. Peaceful. But I knew the second that door opened, the volume in here would crank up.

I was lighting the last candle on the table when I heard the familiar click of the front door unlocking.

The door creaked open, and there he was, my stupid older brother, hair a bit messier than usual, hoodie slightly wrinkled from the drive, and his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His tired eyes scanned the room before landing on me.

“Hey,” he said, smiling widely.

I grinned back. “Hi.”

He dropped the bag near the door and walked straight toward me, wrapping me in one of his signature bear hugs. I practically disappeared in his arms.

“You smell like garlic,” he mumbled into my hair.

I laughed. “That’s because I made your favorite.”

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “Chicken Alfredo?”

“With garlic bread. And a salad you’ll ignore.”

He grinned. “Thanks, Daph.”

I pulled away, “All good.”

He looked around the apartment like he was taking in every detail. “You cleaned.”

“Of course I did. You're lucky I didn’t vacuum the ceiling.”

He gave a small chuckle and then sniffed the air again dramatically. “Smells like heaven. Are we eating now, or do I have to shower first and pretend I’m not starving?”

I rolled my eyes. “Eat now. Shower after.”

Noah clapped his hands once and made his way to the kitchen. “Man, it's good to be home.”

We sat across from each other, the clinking of forks and the soft hum of the city outside the window filling the space.

Noah took another bite, then glanced up at me between chews. “So,” he started, swallowing, “how’ve you been?”

I shrugged, poking at the pasta on my plate. “Good. Busy. I’ve been working, so that kept me going.”

Noah twirled his fork through the last bit of pasta, then looked up at me again. “So… how was L.A.?”

I nodded slowly, resting my elbow on the table. “It was good. Different.”

“Different how?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.

I shrugged. “The weather, the vibe. Every Hollywood”

He chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

There was a small pause. I could feel it before he even said it.

“Speaking of L.A…” he continued, casually but not really, “how’s Matt?”

My hand stilled slightly on my glass. I tried to keep my expression neutral. “He’s… good. Busy, you know. Same as always.”

Noah nodded slowly, watching me too closely. “You two talk often?”

I kept my voice light. “Sometimes. I mean, he’s technically my boss, so we talk about shoots and edits.”

Noah’s smirk faded a little, his tone shifting into something more serious as he set his fork down. “Is he a good boss?”

I blinked. “Matt?”

He nodded, eyes steady.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. “He’s…patient. Gives me space to do my work, trusts my edits.” I forced a small smile, fiddling with my napkin. “No complaints.”

He watched me for a second, like he was trying to read between the lines.

I cleared my throat. “Have you talked to him recently?”

Noah leaned back in his chair, arms crossing loosely. “Just texts here and there.”

I nodded slowly.

“I’m seeing him tonight, though,” he added casually, but I felt the words hit my chest.

“Oh, cool.” I busied myself with gathering the plates, hoping the clatter would cover how awkward I suddenly felt.

Noah didn’t say anything for a moment, and I could feel his eyes on me again. I didn’t meet them.

Matt’s name shouldn’t make me tense. He’s Noah’s best friend. Normally, they’re seeing each other.

So why did it feel like my skin was two sizes too tight?

“You okay?” Noah asked suddenly.

I forced a small, bright laugh. “Yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

He nodded slowly, still watching. I grabbed the dishes and carried them into the kitchen, needing a second to breathe.

Because Noah didn’t know.

Therefore, I wasn’t about to tell him that his best friend had kissed me. Twice. And that I’d let him. Twice.

And maybe…I wanted to do it again.

I ran the water in the sink, letting the sound fill the silence while I stacked the plates inside. Noah got up too, bringing over the glasses. He leaned against the counter beside me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“You know,” he started casually, “Matt's not really the… serious type.”

I dried my hands slowly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he jokes around. He flirts with anything that breathes. I know he’s my best friend, but he’s always been like that,” he said with a shrug. “Even when we were younger, it was never just one girl.”

I kept my gaze on the sink, feeling my throat tighten.

“Why would that matter to me, Noah? I’m his photographer,” I said, eyeing him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“I’m just saying—if he ever makes you feel…I don't know, unprofessional? You’d tell me, right?”

I glanced at him, forcing a soft smile. “Yeah, of course.”

He studied me a beat longer, then nodded. “Good.”

I wiped the same spot on the counter three times, needing something to do with my hands. My voice came out quieter than I intended. “He’s been… nice. Like really nice.”

Noah tilted his head. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Like… not how you’d expect, I guess.”

Something shifted in his expression—an edge of curiosity—but he didn’t push it.

“Maybe he’s maturing or something,” Noah muttered, reaching for a clean spoon from the drawer. “About time.”

I gave a half-laugh. “Maybe.”

He looked at me again, more thoughtful this time. “You two getting along then? I mean… It’s not weird, working together?”

I shook my head quickly. “No. It’s… easy.”

He raised a brow at that. “Easy?”

I caught myself. “I mean—like, he doesn’t make things complicated. It’s just work. We keep things professional.”

That wasn’t a lie. I just…left a lot out.

Noah nodded, thankfully dropping the subject, and made his way back to the couch with a stretch and a quiet yawn.

I turned off the tap, wiped my slightly damp hands on the edge of my sweatshirt, and headed to my room. My heart was still pounding—more from the conversation than anything else. I shut the door gently behind me, crossed the small space to my desk, and opened my laptop.

I hadn’t dared to look at it all day.

The email from accounting was still there, unopened. My fingers hesitated over the trackpad for a second before I finally clicked.

And then I saw it.

Deposit: $20,000.00

I blinked.

That had to be a mistake.

I leaned in closer, reading the breakdown. It was real. Four weeks of work, including the LA shoot. Flights and accommodations were comped, of course—but still. This was what I was paid?

My chest tightened. I wasn’t used to seeing numbers like this beside my name. Before this, I was freelancing in London, lucky to get maybe $30 an hour on a good day. Most gigs barely paid enough for rent and groceries. I’d spent years chasing invoices and doing free shoots just to get published.

And now… this?

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen like it might suddenly correct itself. But the number stayed the same.

Twenty thousand. For one month.

For working under Matt.

My stomach fluttered—not in the excited way, but in the confused, slightly overwhelmed way.

This wasn’t just generous. It was…excessive. Even for a high-end company. Even for Matt.

I rubbed my temples. Was this some weird favor? Was he just being nice because of Noah?

Or worse—was it because of what happened between us?

I didn’t want to believe that. He hadn’t treated me like that. Not once. Still… the thought lingered.

I was probably being dramatic. Matt doesn’t pay me; his company does.

I closed the laptop slowly, trying to catch my breath. I flopped onto my bed, my mind racing. My job felt real, my photos were actually getting used. I had seen a photo I took of Matt of a billboard the other day, and I felt really good about it.

Matt and I had exchanged a few texts since that night at the waterfront—simple messages, casual check-ins, nothing heavy. But I found myself looking forward to every buzz, every word from him. I liked texting Matt. I liked talking to him. Hell, I liked being around him.

It was too late. Deep down, I knew—I was falling for Matt all over again. Though this time, I wasn’t the helpless fourteen-year-old crushing on the older, untouchable guy. Now, as cliché as it sounded, maybe I actually had a chance. After all, Matt kissed me. Didn’t he?

Still, the thought sent a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside me. Could things be different this time? Or was I just setting myself up?

I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram, then searched for Matt’s account. The last four posts were photos I had taken—my work, framed perfectly on his feed.

Seeing my shots there made my chest tighten a little. It was like a quiet reminder of how close we’d been, in ways I wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

MATTHEW

The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place Noah and I used to hit up before life got too serious. We had our usual corner booth—same spot, same whiskey, just older versions of ourselves now.

Noah slid into the seat across from me, already shrugging off his coat. “Man, it’s freezing out,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together before grabbing his drink.

I lifted my glass in response. “Welcome home.”

He clicked his against mine. “Cheers.”

We drank in silence for a moment, the low hum of music and scattered conversations filling the space between us. I watched him carefully—he looked tired, but better than the last time I saw him. The city grind hadn’t swallowed him whole yet.

“So,” he said, leaning back. “How’s work?”

“Busy,” I replied, tracing the rim of my glass. “Photoshoots, meetings, running from place to place.”

He nodded slowly, then looked at me a little too directly. “And my sister?”

I kept my face calm. “She’s good. Talented. Focused.”

“Yeah,” he said, watching me. “She’s doing better than I thought she would be, coming back here.”

I nodded. “She’s a hard worker.”

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes still on me. “You've been good to her?”

The question hit heavier than it should have. I knew what he was asking, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. I met his gaze. “I have.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, then gave a short nod. “Good. She deserves that.”

I nodded too, slower. “I know.”

There was an edge to his silence now, and I couldn’t tell if it was suspicion or just big-brother mode kicking in. Either way, it made the back of my neck feel warm.

“She told me she went to L.A. with your team,” he added casually, but his tone wasn’t casual at all.

“She did,” I said. “Handled it well.”

Noah raised a brow, but thankfully didn’t push. Instead, he just leaned back and let the weight of his stare fade.

“I trust you, you know,” he finally said.

I looked down at my glass. “I know.”

Gosh, if he knew what I’d done. If he knew what we’d both done. If he had any idea how hard it was getting to look at her and not want more. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold back.

We shifted off the topic and the tension with it. Talked about old high school stories, bad fashion choices, that time Nick got a tattoo of a pizza slice on a dare—just stupid shit that made us laugh harder than we should’ve.

Noah was halfway through a story about Chris accidentally locking himself in our dad’s wine cellar when two girls appeared at the side of our table.

Both dressed like they knew what they were doing—tight dresses, confidence in their walk, glossy lips. The taller one smiled directly at me. The other leaned on the edge of Noah’s side, tossing her hair a little dramatically.

“Hey,” the one closest to me said. “You guys here alone?”

Noah, being Noah, straightened up a bit. “Just catching up. What about you?”

“We saw you from the bar,” the one near me said, eyes holding mine. “You looked…fun.”

I smiled out of habit, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Noah caught it instantly. He looked over at me with a raised brow.

“Come sit,” he offered them casually.

They slid in without hesitation—Noah was already starting to flirt, leaning in a little, the way he always did when he was interested.

The girl next to me pressed closer, her perfume sharp and overwhelming. I moved my arm slightly away.

“So, what do you do?” she asked.

“Model,” I said simply, not feeling like entertaining more than that.

She leaned in, tracing her finger on the rim of her drink. “Of course you do.”

Noah glanced at me again—this time, longer. Noticing how stiff I was, how I hadn’t even turned toward the girl properly.

“You good?” he asked, in that tone only a best friend would use. Like: what the hell is going on with you?

I nodded, but I could see the confusion in his face.

This wasn’t like me. Usually, I’d have been laughing. Buying her another drink. Maybe taking her home.

But not tonight, because even though Daphne and I hadn’t defined anything, I couldn’t sit here and entertain someone else when I still remembered the taste of her mouth from two nights ago.

Noah could see it all over my face.

The two girls laughed at something—probably each other—and the one beside me leaned over, brushing her hand against my arm as she stood.

“We’re gonna go say hi to some friends,” she said with a sultry smile, already twisting her body like she was expecting me to watch her walk away. “Be right back.”

I gave a polite nod. “Cool.”

Noah watched them disappear into the crowd, then turned to me slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“So… you’re not into her?” he asked, like he was double-checking what he’d already figured out.

I shook my head once. “Nah.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows drawn. “Seriously?”

I didn’t say anything, just stared at the amber liquid in my glass.

“No offense, but… that’s literally your type,” he said, motioning in the direction the girls had walked off in. “Tall, hot, face full of makeup, huge—” he stopped himself with a smirk, “—you know.”

I cracked a half-smile. “I know.”

He tilted his head at me. “So, what gives?”

A short, 5-foot, burnette with a baby pink and matcha obsession–or simply your sister.

I exhaled slowly, shrugging as I looked away. “I don’t know.”

Noah gave me a look. One that said bullshit, but he didn’t push. Instead, he clapped my shoulder lightly and leaned back.

“Just relax, man. You’re overthinking.” “Yeah,” I mumbled, nodding just to move on. “You’re right.”

We ordered some food, and after a few more drinks, the warmth of the liquor settled in my bloodstream, dulling the edge of whatever the hell I was feeling.

That’s when the girls came back.

The one who’d been sitting beside me didn’t even hesitate. She slid back into the booth, but this time, she didn’t just sit next to me—she straddled my lap, arms loosely looping around my neck like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Her perfume hit me instantly—something sharp and floral. Her lips pressed against mine before I even processed what was happening. I didn’t kiss back, not really, but I didn’t stop her either.

Noah glanced over with a smug grin, the other girl now tucked into his side. He raised his brows like that’s more like it.

But the second her lips were on me, something twisted in my stomach. It felt... wrong.

Technically, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wasn’t tied to anyone. Daphne and I weren’t anything official. She even said it herself—“just a one-time thing”—twice.

So why did I feel like I was betraying her?

I didn’t touch the girl. Didn’t wrap my arms around her. I just let her do her thing while I stared blankly over her shoulder, jaw tight, counting the seconds until she got bored or I could think of a way to make her get off me without making a scene.

The truth was, my mind wasn’t here. It was across the city, in a quiet apartment where a girl with soft brown eyes and a voice like honey once told me I was a good listener, next to the waterfront.

The music pulsed through the floor beneath my boots, the bass heavy enough to rattle in my chest. The girl was still on my lap, tracing lazy circles on the back of my neck with her nails while talking about something I wasn’t listening to.

Then I looked over, and Noah was gone.

I scanned the bar, squinting past the dim lights and shifting crowds, but yeah… he was gone. Him and the girl had disappeared, probably upstairs to one of the private rooms this place had for whatever “after-hours fun” people wanted.

Typical.

“Looks like your friend found some company,” the girl on my lap said with a sly smile, biting her lip. Her tone dipped low. “Wanna go upstairs too?”

Her hand slipped down to my chest, fingers dragging slowly like she already assumed the answer was yes.

I looked at her.

She was beautiful—long lashes, lips done just enough to look glossy but not sticky, curves that would drive most men crazy. If this was any other night, any other version of me from a few days ago, I probably would’ve already been halfway up the stairs with her by now.

I wasn’t that guy, at least… I didn’t feel like him anymore.

I grabbed her hand, gently, and pulled it away from my chest.

She blinked. “So… no?”

I shook my head, offering a soft, apologetic smile. “Not tonight.”

She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me like I was joking. When she realized I wasn’t, she climbed off my lap with a small scoff, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Your loss,” she muttered, before disappearing into the crowd.

Maybe it was. However, right now, the only girl I could think about wasn’t here.

I leaned back against the booth, exhaling slowly, letting the noise of the bar blur into the background.

What the hell am I doing?

I ran a hand down my face, the alcohol buzzing just enough to dull the edges, but not enough to drown the thoughts crowding my head.

Noah’s little sister. The one girl I shouldn’t even be thinking about like this.

He was always protective of her—too protective. Hell, when we were younger, he’d give any guy a death stare if they even looked at her too long.

Noah knew me. The one who went through girls like they were names on a list. He never would’ve expected me to get close to Daphne, even if it was for work, and maybe he was right to be cautious.

But I wasn’t playing around.

That’s the part I couldn’t explain—even to myself. I’ve had flings, crushes, even something close to feelings a few times. But this? This felt… different.

The way she looked at me was like she actually saw me. Not Matt-the-model. Not Matt-the-name. Just…me.

And the way I kept catching myself wanting to tell her things I don’t even talk to Chris or Nick about.

I didn’t know what it meant. I knew one thing—I wasn’t ready to let it go.

Even if I had to pretend like nothing happened. Even if I had to keep acting like she was just my best friend’s little sister anymore.

Noah came stumbling back down the stairs, hair ruffled, shirt untucked, and a smug grin painted across his face.

“Alright,” I muttered, watching him approach.

He ran a hand through his hair like it would fix anything. “Are you ready to head out?” he asked, eyes slightly glazed but wide with energy.

I glanced around. The girl who had been on me was now distracted with her friends again. I slid out of the booth, grabbing my jacket. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Yo, I’m starving,” Noah said, stretching his arms as we stepped outside into the cooler air. “Let’s grab something greasy, man. Come back to mine? We can order in.”

I hesitated, just for a second.

“C’mon,” he added, nudging my shoulder. “It’s been a while.”

I gave a quick nod. “Alright, sounds good.”

However, my chest tightened a little because I knew who was going to be there, and I didn’t trust myself around her. Not anymore.

I followed behind Noah’s car, keeping a steady pace as we weaved through the late-night traffic. The city lights blurred past my windshield, but my mind wasn’t on the road. It was still spinning, full of nerves. I needed to cut it out, I was 26, damn it, too old to be acting like a school boy.

Noah’s turn signal blinks ahead of me, pulling me out of it. He turned into the familiar lot of their apartment building and pulled into his usual spot. I found one a few feet down, cut the engine, and stepped out.

Noah was leaning against his door, waiting for me, arms crossed lazily. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said, shutting my door. “Just tired.”

We walked in together, through the front entrance, nodding at the tired-looking security guy at the front desk. The elevator dinged open after a short wait, and we stepped inside. The ride up was quiet.

The closer we got to their floor, the tighter my chest felt. I could already picture her, probably in sweats, probably curled up on that grey couch with her laptop open, maybe half-asleep with her hair up, maybe still awake with her glasses on.

I hated how easily I could picture her.

When the elevator doors opened, Noah walked out first, keys dangling from his hand. I followed behind, trying not to overthink the thud in my chest with every step we took closer to their door.

Noah pushed open the door and stepped in like he owned the place, which he did. He kicked off his shoes and called out, voice echoing through the apartment.

“Daph!”

There was a shuffle from down the hall, then her voice floated out. “Yeah?”

She came around the corner, her hair down, wearing an oversized crewneck and bike shorts, holding a mug in her hand.

“Can you take your—” she started, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Her eyes locked onto me.

The mug paused halfway to her lips. “Matt.”

I gave a small, easy smile. “Hey.”

She blinked, then cleared her throat and smiled politely. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming.”

Noah had already dropped onto the couch, grabbing the remote. “We’re getting food, want anything?”

Daphne glanced between us quickly. “Whatever you're getting is fine.”

She turned, walking toward the kitchen and muttering under her breath, “Still need you to take your laundry out of the bin, by the way.”

Noah groaned from the couch. “I will! Chill.”

I stood there for another second, still staring at her back as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Yeah. I was definitely in trouble.

We settled in the living room, Noah grabbing the controller first and firing up a racing game. The TV lit up with the roar of engines and screech of tires as we battled it out, laughing and trash-talking like we hadn’t seen each other in months.

A couple of rounds later, the doorbell rang. Noah jumped up. “That must be the pizza.”

I followed him to the door and took the boxes from the delivery guy. “Alright, let’s eat.”

Noah called out, “Daph! Food’s here!”

A few seconds later, she appeared in the living room. Effortlessly stunning

She glanced at me briefly and then at the boxes, then raised an eyebrow. “You guys only got pizza?”

Noah shrugged, opening a box. “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

She let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms. “Noah, you know I don’t like pizza.”

He looked up, a little surprised. “Sorry, I thought you’d just eat it.”

She shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice. “You know I don’t like pizza. You could’ve gotten something else.”

I looked between Noah and her, and even though she tried to hide it, the disappointment was all over her face. She had clearly been waiting for something decent to eat—and this wasn’t it.

“You said you’d be good with whatever we were getting,” Noah muttered, clearly a little annoyed.

Daphne let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah, but… I thought you’d be considerate.”

With that, she turned and walked off down the hall, disappearing into her room without another word.

Noah shook his head. “Man, she’s so dramatic sometimes.”

I didn’t say anything because the truth was, I didn’t think she was being dramatic at all. I think she just wanted to be thought of.

I sat in silence, slowly chewing my slice of pizza as the sounds of the video game filled the room. Noah was zoned in, trash-talking the screen while I quietly reached for my phone. I opened the delivery app and scrolled through the options, knowing exactly what to look for—some of her favorites: grilled chicken rice bowl, dumplings, and a side of cucumber salad. I added a matcha to the cart without second-guessing it.

I glanced over at Noah. He was too busy cursing at his controller to notice anything I was doing.

I paid, hit order, and leaned back.

About half an hour later, my phone buzzed. Your order has arrived. I unlocked my phone and opened Daphne’s contact. Me: Check the front door. I got you something.

I stared at the screen, waiting. A minute passed.

Daphne: What did you get?

Me: Just check. Maybe grab it quietly.

There was a pause. I heard a door creak gently down the hall, soft footsteps padding toward the entrance.

I didn’t look up, just kept pretending to scroll, listening. A quiet shuffle, the rustling of a bag being picked up. With that, I heard her go back to her room. Two minutes later, my phone buzzed.

Daphne: Matt, did you really get this for me?

Me: Figured you shouldn’t have to settle for pizza if you didn’t want it.

Daphne: You remembered the matcha

I felt a smirk tug at the edge of my mouth.

Me: Of course I did

There was a longer pause this time before she replied.

Daphne: Thank you.

I typed slowly.

Me: Enjoy, sweetheart

I finally looked up from my phone. Noah was still deep into his game, completely unaware. I leaned back into the couch, one thought running through my mind: I was screwed.

Noah was half-slumped on the couch now, controller in hand but no longer moving. The screen flashed the “Game Over” screen, but he didn’t even blink. His head tilted back against the cushions, his eyes barely open.

“I’m gonna head out,” I said quietly, grabbing my keys and sliding my phone into my pocket. “I’ll see you at the engagement tomorrow.”

Noah grunted something in return, a lazy wave of his hand.

“Oh—” I added casually, “I’m just gonna ask Daphne something real quick. About work stuff.”

“Mmh,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Yeah, whatever…”

I walked down the hallway slowly, pausing just outside her door. It was cracked open an inch, a faint light slipping through. I raised my hand and knocked gently.

“Sweetheart?” I said low.

She pulled the door open a little wider, standing there, her hair pulled back, a wooden fork between her fingers, and the food container still open on her desk.

“Hey,” she said, voice soft. “Are you leaving?”

I nodded once. “Yeah… just wanted to ask you something before I go. I told Noah it's about work.” She tilted her head slightly. “About what?”

I glanced behind me, making sure no one was there, then turned back to her, lowering my voice even more.

“Not really about work,” I admitted. “Just…can I come in for a sec?”

She blinked, surprised, but didn’t move to close the door. Instead, she stepped back and opened it for me to come in.

“Sure,” she said, quieter now. “What’s up?”

I stepped in, the door clicking shut quietly behind me, sealing us into the soft silence of her room. My heart was already pounding harder than I wanted to admit.

“I’ve been wanting to see you,” I said, my voice low, unsure.

She looked up at me with that small, shy smile. “Yeah?”

I nodded, returning the smile. “Yeah.”

“Thank you for the food, Matt,” she said, offering a soft smile, “Really.”

I nodded, trying to match it with my own. “It was nothing.”

My throat felt tight, like the words were too big for the space. “I’ve been thinking about you,” I murmured, almost like a confession. “About us.”

She didn’t respond right away, just nodded slightly, eyes steady on mine, waiting—like she knew more was coming.

“I was wondering if you wanted to—”

She suddenly tilted her head, eyes dropping just a little from my face. Her beautiful smile is gone.

“What’s that?” she asked, her voice softer, more cautious.

It took me a second to realize what she meant.

Her gaze was locked on my neck.

The heat rushed up my neck as I instinctively brought my hand to the side of it—too late. I knew what was there. The mark from earlier. One I hadn’t asked for. One I didn’t even want.

“Sweetheart…” I started gently.

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes stayed fixed on the spot like it was burning into her. Then she slowly looked back up at me, her smile completely gone.

“Listen—” I said quickly, reaching for her arm. “It’s not what it looks like. I’ve really been waiting to see you all day, Daph.”

She didn’t pull away right away, but the look she gave me—God, it cut deep.

“Yeah?” she said quietly, but her voice had a bitter edge. “That's why you got knocked up before you came to see me?”

“No—it wasn’t like that,” I said, desperate to close the space between us.

She shook her head and gently pulled her arm away. “It’s fine, Matt.”

“Daph, don’t do that—”

“We’re not together,” she said, looking past me now. “It’s fine. Really. Let’s just keep things professional.”

I saw it—just for a second—the crack in her composure. Her lips pressed tight, her chest rising with shallow breaths. She was hurt. Bad. And I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Can we please talk about this?” I tried again, my voice lower now. “I swear, it didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even want it to happen. I just—”

“Matt,” she said softly, but firmly. Her eyes met mine, glassy. “Please… just go.”

I froze. She was blinking fast now, and I could see it. She was trying not to cry.

“I’ll see you at the next shoot,” she added, turning away before I could say another word.

I stood there for a beat, helpless. Everything I wanted to say sat heavy in my throat, but none of it would change what she saw. What it looked like. I’d explain myself eventually, just seemed wrong now. She needed to cool off.

I did what she asked and halfheartedly walked out feeling like a coward. Even though I wanted to do the exact opposite.

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[a/n: wompp, another update because I'm getting busy this week. mwah like and reblog!] –ceyana

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