The drive back feels longer than the drive there.

Not because of traffic. The roads are mostly empty at this hour, the city quieter now, lights sliding past the windows in long blurred streaks. Liang Feng drives steadily from the front while soft instrumental music plays low enough that it barely registers.

But the silence inside the car sits differently now.

Before the gala, I had spent the entire drive trying to understand the kiss.

Now I’m just tired.

Tired in the specific way that comes after too many hours of paying attention to someone when you were already emotionally exhausted before the night even started.

Beside me, Bael scrolls through something on his phone. A message flashes briefly across the screen before disappearing again. His expression stays the same as it has all evening, composed, unreadable, completely controlled.

If I hadn’t spent the past several hours watching him too carefully, maybe I would believe none of tonight mattered to him.

But I did watch him.

I noticed the way his attention kept returning to me throughout the evening like it was automatic now. The way he always knew where I was even while speaking to someone else. The way he went quiet beside me while Elliot and I were talking, subtle enough that almost nobody would notice it.

I noticed the way he spoke to Xue Lian normally but still kept checking where I was standing during the conversation.

And underneath all of that, the kiss keeps replaying itself anyway.

Not romantically.

That’s the frustrating part.

I’m not sitting here imagining confessions or dramatic realizations. I know Bael better than that. Whatever happened in the sitting room earlier doesn’t suddenly erase everything else that came before it.

I still remember standing in the entryway weeks ago with Xue Lian’s scent all over him.

I still remember *that’s not your concern.*

That memory doesn’t disappear just because Bael suddenly started looking at me differently.

The problem is that now I can’t tell what differently actually means.

I shift slightly against the seat, one hand resting absently against the curve of my stomach.

The baby moves once, small and slow.

Beside me, Bael glances over immediately.

"You’re uncomfortable?"

The question comes quietly, naturally, like he’s been tracking me without consciously meaning to.

"I’m fine."

His gaze lingers another second before returning to his phone.

That should not bother me as much as it does.

Because before, things were easier to categorize. Bael was practical. Attentive in the way someone becomes attentive when responsibility enters the equation. I understood that version of him even when it hurt.

Now his behavior keeps slipping outside the boundaries I built around it.

And every time I think I’ve adjusted to the new shape of things, he changes something again.

The car eventually turns into the estate driveway.

By the time Liang Feng stops near the entrance, my head hurts faintly from thinking in circles for too long.

Bael steps out first.

I follow a moment later.

The night air is cooler than I expected, carrying the faint scent of rain somewhere in the distance. Staff near the entrance greet us quietly before retreating again once it’s obvious nothing else is needed.

Inside, the house is mostly dark.

Late enough that everything has settled into silence.

I head automatically toward the hallway leading to my room.

I hear footsteps behind me.

At first I assume we’re just walking in the same direction briefly.

Then the footsteps keep following.

Something tightens quietly in my chest.

I stop walking.

The footsteps stop too. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

For a second neither of us says anything.

Then I turn around slightly and look at him.

"Why are you following me?"

Bael stands a few feet away, jacket already loosened slightly at the collar now that the gala is over. He looks exactly the same as he always does after long events. Calm. Controlled. Difficult to read.

"We need to talk."

The answer comes immediately, like he decided it before we even entered the house.

I look at him for a moment.

"About what?"

His expression shifts almost imperceptibly, not irritation exactly, more like restraint.

"This situation."

I almost laugh at that.

Not because it’s funny.

Mostly because it sounds exactly like him.

Everything eventually becoming a situation that needs to be addressed and resolved.

"And what situation is that?"

"The fact that you keep avoiding me."

There’s no accusation in his tone, that somehow makes it worse.

I stare at him for a second before answering carefully.

"I’m not avoiding you."

"You moved rooms."

"Yes."

"You leave whenever conversations become personal."

"That’s not the same thing."

Bael studies me quietly.

The hallway light catches against the sharp edges of his expression, softening nothing.

"This can’t continue indefinitely," he says finally.

Something in me goes tired immediately after hearing that. Not because he’s wrong, maybe under different circumstances I would even agree.

But the way Bael says things like that always makes it sound like this is just another issue he’s trying to organize into something manageable. Like if we talk long enough, we can straighten the situation out neatly and move on.

As if the problem is the distance itself and not everything that created it.

"You keep doing that," I say before I can stop myself.

His brows pull together slightly. "Doing what?"

I lean back against the wall a little, suddenly too exhausted to keep pretending I understand where any of this is going.

"Acting like things happen separately from each other."

Bael stays quiet.

Waiting.

I let out a slow breath.

"You say one thing, then act another way afterward, and somehow expect me to understand what the actual line is supposed to be."

His attention sharpens slightly.

I continue before I lose the nerve to explain it properly.

"With Xue Lian, you told me it wasn’t my concern." My voice stays even, but barely. "Then days later you came to my door to explain that nothing happened like that was supposed to fix the part that actually hurt."

Bael’s jaw tightens faintly.

"I was clarifying what happened."

"I know."

"And it was the truth."

"That’s not the point."

Silence stretches briefly between us.

Then, quieter, "Then what is?"

The frustrating part is that he sounds genuinely confused.

Like he really doesn’t understand why I can’t just separate one thing from another the way he does.

I look at him for a second before answering.

"The point is that I stopped knowing what any of this means."

Bael says nothing.

So I keep going.

"After that night, I thought I understood where I stood with you." My fingers curl slightly against my sleeve. "I thought maybe I finally understood what I should and shouldn’t expect from you, so I adjusted to it."

His gaze stays on me carefully now.

"I moved rooms because I needed to stop caring so much about things that clearly weren’t mine to care about," I admit quietly. "And eventually it started getting easier."

Not easy, just easier. Enough that I could breathe again sometimes, enough that every interaction didn’t feel like waiting for something painful to happen.

"And then lately..." I stop briefly, frustrated with myself for even having to say this out loud. "You keep changing the distance again."

Bael goes very still.

"You act like none of it means anything," I continue. "Then suddenly you’re paying attention to where I am every second at the gala. You keep touching me like it’s automatic now. Then tonight you kissed me and acted completely normal afterward."

The words settle heavily in the hallway.

For once, Bael doesn’t answer immediately.

I can tell he’s trying to figure out the correct response instead of understanding why this hurts in the first place.

Finally he says, "I wasn’t aware the kiss required immediate discussion afterward."

The response irritates me instantly, not because he’s being cruel, but because it’s exactly the kind of answer I should have expected from him.

Calm. Practical. Completely missing the point.

A tired laugh almost leaves me before I stop it.

"See? That’s exactly what I mean."

His brows tighten slightly.

"I don’t understand what you want me to say."

And there it is.

Not coldness,or avoidance, just genuine confusion.

Which somehow makes this harder.

Because if Bael were doing this on purpose, at least I would understand what he wanted from me.

Instead it feels like he keeps pulling me closer without understanding what that does to me afterward.

"You don’t have to say anything specific," I tell him quietly. "I just need you to understand why I can’t keep adjusting every time you suddenly decide the distance between us should change again."

The silence afterward feels heavier than before.

Bael looks at me for a long moment.

Then finally, "I don’t like this distance."

Simple, direct, and somehow that only makes something in my chest tighten harder.

Because the distance didn’t appear on its own.

Bael created it.

Maybe not intentionally, maybe not maliciously.

But he was still the one who pushed me to the point of needing it in the first place. Weeks ago I forced myself to stop expecting things from him that he never actually promised me.

And now suddenly he acts like the distance itself is the problem without understanding how it got there.

Like I’m the one pulling away for no reason.

Meanwhile he keeps changing the way he treats me again. Paying attention to me differently, touching me differently, kissing me like that and then acting normal after.

And the worst part is that part of me still reacts every time he does.

That’s the part making this unbearable.

I’m already starting to lose my footing again and I know it.

"I don’t know what you’re trying to do," I admit quietly.

Bael’s expression shifts slightly at that.

Not enough for me to fully read it, but enough that I know the words landed.

"And that’s the problem," I continue before he can answer. "Because every time I start relaxing around you again, I remember that I was wrong before too."

The hallway goes completely still after that.

I can tell he understands this part more than the others.

Or at least understands that it matters.

My chest feels tight suddenly from exhaustion more than emotion.

The gala drained whatever energy I had left before we even got home.

And standing here trying to explain feelings I barely understand myself is making my head hurt.

"I’m tired," I say eventually.

This time it’s not avoidance.

Just true.

Something softens slightly in Bael’s expression at that. His eyes move over my face carefully, like he’s only now noticing how exhausted I actually am.

His voice lowers a little.

"You should sleep."

The concern sounds real.

That’s the problem too.

I can’t even convince myself his care is fake anymore, and somehow that’s worse than before because now I keep wanting to believe things I don’t trust.

I nod once.

Then I turn toward my room.

Bael doesn’t stop me this time.

I reach the door and open it quietly before hesitating for a second.

When I look back, he’s still standing there in the hallway watching me.

For a moment neither of us says anything.

Then I close the door gently behind me.

The lock clicks softly into place.

And for several long seconds after that, I can still hear nothing from the other side before his footsteps finally move away.