The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第40章 The Unspoken Distance

      The air between us had shifted, though neither of us wanted to admit it. On the surface, things looked unchanged—we still met in the quiet privacy of Kenji's home, still brushed shoulders in passing at the office with practiced indifference, still exchanged messages that made my heart flutter at odd hours.

But beneath it all, there was a weight. A distance neither of us could name, but both of us felt.

Kenji sensed it before I could put words to it. He always did.

"You've been quiet," he said one evening, pouring wine into my glass as the low hum of jazz filled the room. His voice wasn't accusing, just careful. Searching.

I forced a smile. "Just work. The new liaison program is... a lot."

But the way his eyes lingered told me he wasn't fooled.

Later, curled together on the sofa, his hand tracing idle circles on my thigh, he broke the silence. "Eden, we can't keep doing this halfway."

My breath caught. "Doing what?"

"Us," he said simply. "Hiding. Pretending. Pulling back every time we step outside these walls. I feel you slipping away from me—and I don't know if it's because you don't want this anymore, or because you're afraid of what happens if the world knows."

His words struck too close. My throat tightened as I tried to explain. "Kenji, it's not that I don't want this. I do. More than anything. But every time I think about people knowing—about the headlines, the whispers in the office, the board—I panic. If it explodes, if it costs me everything I've worked for—what then?"

His jaw flexed, a rare crack in his composure. "So I'm the risk, is that it? The secret you're too afraid to keep but too afraid to claim?"

"That's not fair," I said softly, though my voice trembled.

He leaned back, putting space between us for the first time that night. "Maybe not. But it's the truth, isn't it? You want me in the shadows—safe, hidden, untouchable—while the world believes there's nothing between us."

I swallowed, heat prickling the back of my eyes. "I just want to protect what we have. Isn't that what you wanted, too? To keep it ours."

Kenji's gaze softened, but the fire in his eyes didn't fade. "At first, yes. But Eden—love kept in shadows grows brittle. It can't breathe there. I don't want to be your secret."

The words landed like a stone in my chest. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that we could hold this balance forever, but even as I tried to form the thought, I knew he was right. The secrecy that once felt like protection was now pressing down on us, turning intimacy into isolation.

I reached for his hand, but he hesitated a beat before lacing his fingers through mine. That single pause said more than either of us had confessed aloud.

We sat in silence, wine untouched, the music fading into the background. For the first time since we had chosen each other, I felt the possibility of losing him—not to someone else, but to the space I'd created by holding us back.

The unspoken distance had finally found its voice.