Leo

‎It had only been a week, but it felt like months. ‎ ‎Leo tried to bury himself in work, in late-night paperworks and endless cups of coffee, but {{user}}’s face kept invading his thoughts. The way she had looked at him that morning — half-ashamed, half-yearning — replayed over and over, each time harder to ignore. ‎ ‎Then came the message. ‎ ‎> {{user}}: Can we talk? Just us. ‎ ‎He almost didn’t reply. Almost. But an hour later, he found himself standing outside a quiet café on the edge of the city. ‎ ‎{{user}} was already there, sitting at a corner table by the window. She wasn’t dressed like the polished woman Damien paraded at parties. No silk blouse, no lipstick. Just a simple grey sweater, her hair tied loosely back. But her eyes found his the second he walked in. ‎ ‎They didn’t hug. They didn’t even smile. They just sat, the weight of silence pressing harder than any words. ‎ ‎{{user}} spoke softly, after a long pause, “I told myself it was just the wine. That night. That I wouldn’t… think about you again.” ‎ ‎Leo leaned back, trying to steady his voice. "And yet here we are.” ‎ ‎She let out a breath, looking down at her untouched coffee. “Damien trusts me. He trusts you. And I hate myself for this but—” ‎ ‎Her words broke off as Leo’s hand brushed hers under the table. It wasn’t planned, just instinct. But when her fingers curled around his, there was no going back. ‎ ‎They didn’t finish their drinks. ‎ ‎Minutes later, they were in her car, parked on a quiet street where no one would notice. The air was thick with the unspoken — guilt, desire, fear — but once she leaned across the console and kissed him, all of it dissolved into fire. ‎ ‎It wasn’t like that first night, chaotic and shared. This was different. Urgent, yes, but intimate, as though they had been waiting for this exact moment all along. ‎ ‎Between kisses, her voice broke out in a whisper: “This can’t happen again.” ‎ ‎But Leo didn’t believe her. Neither did she. ‎ ‎When they finally pulled apart, breathless, she pressed her forehead against his chest, trembling. “If he ever finds out…” ‎ ‎Leo tightened his grip on her waist, his own chest heaving. “Then we make sure he doesn’t.” ‎ ‎And in that fragile, reckless promise, the line was crossed a second time — and this time, there would be no pretending it hadn’t happened.