Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 55: Rough Day, Soft Landing

The second the clock hit six, I stood up from my desk.

I didn’t care if I looked too eager to leave. I needed to get out of here.

I packed my bag slowly, taking my sweet time; half-hoping he’d stay locked behind his glass office until I left the building.

Of course the second I zipped up my bag, his door opened.

I didn’t look up, just zipped the bag and slung it over my shoulder.

"Miss Miller." came that deep voice.

I inhaled slowly, and turned around. "Yes, Mr. Walton?"

He looked...serious. Almost human.

"I shouldn’t have done what I did," he said. "In the elevator. I was out of line."

I blinked, a little taken aback. Not because he apologized—I didn’t think he was incapable—but because he sounded like he meant it. Did the Adrien Walton just apologize to me just now!?

I didn’t respond; I just waited.

"I’m sorry," he said softly.

Oh my god!! I’m not getting fired.

I slowly nodded my head. "Okay."

"I’ll give you a ride home," he offered.

I didn’t even think about it. "No thanks."

He didn’t move. "It’s late."

"It’s six," I shot back. "And I can get myself home."

He took a step toward me, then stopped, looking intense and a bit... uncomfortable? Like he had messed up and didn’t know how to fix it.

"I understand you might feel uncomfortable," he said, his voice lower now. "Which is why I offered. To ensure you feel safe getting home."

My jaw clenched. Safe? After he had made me feel unsafe? I could have choked on the irony.

"I felt perfectly safe when I got here this morning," I replied coolly.

I took a breath and started walking towards the corridor entrance, which meant walking past him. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead, not looking at him, not acknowledging his presence beyond rejecting his offer.

I could feel him watching me as I passed. I didn’t speed up, though every instinct screamed at me to run. I walked at my normal pace, professional and deliberate.

As I reached the corner, I heard his voice again.

"Miss Miller?"

I stopped, but I didn’t turn back fully. Just a slight tilt of my head.

"Yes?"

He waited a second.

"let’s just pick up from where we left off with the Johnson proposal. Nine AM?

I turned back slightly to face him properly. He was still standing by the door, looking... expectant? Worn?

"Nine AM," I confirmed, my voice flat. "Okay."

I reached the door, pushed it opened, and walked out.

The relief of putting distance between us was immense, the apology had thrown me. It was the last thing I had expected.

But it didn’t erase the feeling of his lips on mine, I quietly and almost unconsciously reached up and touched them with the tips of my fingers. The faint tingle was still there, a phantom sensation that did not go away.

I sped-walked to the elevator, absorbed in the lighted construction of numbers above the door. Down. Just down. Out. Away. The more distance I had away from him meant the air felt better to breathe.

I heard the ping of the elevator, the doors slid open and I stepped inside, without thinking, punching the ground floor button with my finger.

I did not even look at the reflective panel. I just watched the numbers go down, counting down the seconds until this day—until he—was behind me.

The second I stepped outside, I felt better.

I raised a hand and hailed the first taxi that passed. The driver nodded and pulled to the curb.

I slid into the back seat and gave my address.

As the cab pulled away, I leaned my head back and stretched my hand over the headrest. Everything hurt—my feet, my back, my brain.

But something loosened inside me.

I missed Dad.

I missed leo.

And for once, I just wanted to go home and not think about Adrien Walton.

The taxi stopped in front of the little cream-colored house with the rusty gate and overgrown bougainvillea that never stopped blooming no matter how many times Dad trimmed it back.

Home.

I paid the driver, stepped out and stood there for a second. Just breathing.

The porch light was already on. Dad always left it on when he knew I’d be coming home late—even when I forgot to text.

I unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

The smell of home hit me instantly. Faint antiseptic from Dad’s vet kit, a hint of something spicy from a stew he’d probably cooked hours ago and just... warmth.

I slipped off my shoes and let my bag drop onto the couch. The living room was quiet, except for the muffled hum of the fridge and the faint rattle of wind against the windows.

"Dad?" I called, just in case.

No response.

I peeked into the kitchen—his keys were on the counter along with an empty bowl in the sink. So he’d eaten earlier.

he was probably already asleep in his room and Leo... still out with his friends or somewhere.

I padded into my room, peeled off the tight work clothes, and threw on one of Dad’s oversized t-shirts from an old veterinary conference. Then I wandered into the kitchen, reheated a bit of stew and stood there eating over the sink like I used to in high school when I’d come back late from tutoring class.

The silence was oddly comforting.

But in the back of my mind, that elevator scene replayed—Adrien’s face, how he held... ugh, what am I thinking? I pushed it away and rinsed my bowl.

With a sigh that was more of contentment than of exhaustion, I turned back towards my room. I could read for a bit, or perhaps curl up in bed and let the quiet take me to sleep.

The day already felt miles away, it was becoming a bad dream fading with the dawn. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

I flopped onto the bed face-first. The familiar scent of my own room, a mix of books, laundry detergent, and faint dust, was another layer of ’home’.

I buried my face in the duvet, breathing it in.

I was home. I was safe.

And tomorrow... tomorrow I’d have to face his mother ughhh.

But for now I let my eyes close and whispered into the pillow, "I missed this."

****

I was halfway to sleep when I heard the front door creak open.

I didn’t move. Just lay there with my eyes half closed, listening to footsteps sneaking down the hallway like this was some kind of spy movie.

Wrong house to pull that stunt, buddy.

The door to my room cracked open. A shadow slipped in.

So I slowly turned my head on the pillow and locked eyes with the intruder.

Leo froze mid-step like a raccoon caught with a stolen donut.

"Hey, sis... I didn’t know you’d be home," he said, voice way too cheerful for someone with death literally aimed at him.

I narrowed my eyes into a glare that could melt steel.

The kind of look that said "Try me again, I dare you."

Then I grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at his face.

The pillow made a satisfying thwak. "Agh—!" He stumbled back, muffled by stuffing. "Abuse! I’m reporting this!"

"You keep showing up past ten like you pay rent here," I said, sitting up with my arms folded. "Where were you?"

"I was—uh—studying."

"Liar."

"Okay, okay! I was... studying near food. With friends."

I rolled my eyes. "Next time I catch you sneaking in like a thief, I’m rigging the hallway with marbles. Just like Home Alone but with actual bear traps disguised as welcome mats."

Leo grinned, still clutching the pillow. "You missed me."

"Did not."

"Did too," he said, tossing the pillow back onto the bed. It fell softly beside me. "Your eyes lit up like little panicked Christmas trees when you saw me."

"That was fear," I stated flatly, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. "Fear that you’d track mud into my room."

"You’re clearly overjoyed to see your favorite sibling."

"You’re my only sibling, Leo."

"Exactly. See? Favorite." He leaned against the door frame and raked his fingers through his hair. He looked exhausted, even with the cheeky smile. "Rough day?"

I shrugged and picked at a loose thread on the duvet. "Could be worse. Could be stuck on a packed train with someone clip-clip-clipping their nails."

His face twisted with disgust. "Ugh, don’t even. Did you eat?"

"Yeah, Dad’s stew. "

"Nice. I’m starving. Study snacks don’t cut it."

"I finished the last bit," I lied cheerfully for effect, watching his face fall. "Ate it right over the sink. High school style."

He groaned, a low, suffering sound that would make anyone think he’d just lost his last dollar. "No way. You finished all of it? The whole pot?"

"Every last drop," I emphasized, a little too sweetly. "Licked the spoon clean. Used a slice of bread to mop up the bowl."

He slumped against the doorframe dramatically. "But... but I was counting on that! My brain fuel! My late-night sustenance!"

"Should have come home earlier then," I said, pulling the blanket higher. "You know what they say, early bird gets the stew."

He pushed himself off the door frame and shuffled close enough to hold on the edge of my bed like it might explode. "That’s just cruel, sis. Absolutely barbaric. I’ve been out there... studying. Fighting the good fight against ignorance and... processed snacks. I need real food."

A small smile finally escaped. "Served cold, just for you."

He stood up and strecthed. "Alright. Go back to sleep for me. Don’t tell Dad I was out late."

"My silence is expensive," I warned, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Twenty bucks?" he offered immediately.

"Fifty."

"Forty-five, final offer."

"Deal," I said, and he nodded.

"Night, sis."

"Night, Leo. And seriously, no more sneaking."

"No problemo," he said, though his grin suggested he definitely would sneak again. He waves a little and slipped back out of my room and quietly closed the door behind him.

Maybe I had missed the little man.

I flopped back onto my pillows, the heavy comfort of Dad’s oversized t-shirt soft against my skin. The stew felt warm in my stomach. yeah, that’s what I’m talking abut.

Home was definitely good. It was my anchor, the place I could always come back to when the outside world felt too loud, too complicated, too... Adrien-filled.

Uggh. Adrien. Seriously? Why did my brain have to go there again? His face in the elevator, the look in his eyes, the way he’d...

I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved my face into the pillow. Go away. Just go away.

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