The Edge of Memory
That night, Muri lay on top of the sheets, wide awake.
Sky had texted her twice. She didn't answer. She couldn't.
All she could see was Lex—his expression in that dim office, the way his voice cracked when he said "This is how I remember you."
It hadn't been a performance. Not a power play.
It was real.
And it rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
She stared at the ceiling like it might offer her answers. A memory. A clue. A feeling.
Because in that moment with Lex, something had burned through her. Familiar. Dangerous. True.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut it all down.
But her body remembered what her mind couldn't.
The way his hand had once fit around her waist.
The heat in his kiss.
The softness in his voice when no one else was around.
Her fingers curled against the sheets, chest rising too fast.
What happened between us? she whispered to the dark. And why does it still feel like it matters?
She didn't sleep.
---
The Next Morning
Muri walked into the office with red-rimmed eyes and flawless makeup, head held high like nothing had shifted inside her. But it had.
And when she passed Lex in the hallway, something flickered in his gaze—a subtle, silent knowing.
He didn't say a word. Neither did she.
But the tension between them was no longer a secret.
It was a storm waiting to break.