Elara
It was ridiculous that something as simple as a borrowed jacket could make me feel this safe.
Damian and I weren’t a couple.
We weren’t even friends, but somehow kept running into each other afterward.
There was no reason his presence should calm me.
And yet, wrapped in his jacket, I couldn’t deny that it did.
I took a slow breath and silently reminded myself not to read too much into a simple act of kindness.
It was only a jacket.
Nothing more.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
I carefully adjusted the jacket before glancing at him.
“I’ll wash this and return it to you.”
Damian leaned lightly against his parked car, watching me like he was assessing something he didn’t need to comment on.
“It’s just a jacket.”
”I know,” I said.
“But it’s still yours.”
A brief pause followed, like he was deciding whether to argue or not.
In the end, he only replied, “Do what you want.”
When I finally got into the car, I told myself I would stay quiet.
I would go home, end the night, and treat everything that had happened as exactly what it was supposed to be: temporary.
But silence in the car didn’t feel natural with him.
It felt too intentional.
So I spoke before I could overthink it.
“Why were you at the bar?”
Damian didn’t look away from the road.
His hands stayed steady on the wheel, his voice calm when he answered.
“I went out with friends.”
”That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it,” he said.
Then, after a brief pause, he added, “I don’t usually go to places like that.”
Something about his tone made me glance at him.
He continued, “My mother has been on a mission lately.
Apparently, my relationship status has become her favorite topic of concern.
She thinks I need to be… corrected.”
I blinked.
“Corrected?”
”That’s how she puts it,” he said, almost dryly.
“According to her, I am overdue for stability, commitment, and a woman who can tolerate both my schedule and my personality.”
Despite everything, I found myself exhaling a small laugh.
“That sounds… intense.”
”It is,” he replied simply.
“So I left the house before she could introduce me to another list of candidates.”
The way he said it made it sound like he had no interest in settling down, as though relationships were little more than something to avoid whenever they became inconvenient.
I found that oddly disappointing.
Somewhere along the way, I had started seeing Damian differently.
He had helped me more than once, treated me with unexpected kindness, and made it dangerously easy to forget how unlikely someone like him was to want anything serious.
Maybe casual relationships were enough for him.
They couldn’t be enough for me.
We came from completely different worlds, and whatever existed between us had never been meant to last.
The smartest thing I could do was keep my distance before I started wanting something he would never be willing to give.
By the time we reached my place, it was almost midnight.
I thanked him again before getting out of the car, and he didn’t stop me when I left.
**
The next morning, I told myself I would focus on work.
But that was easier said than done.
Because the moment I stepped into the office, I felt the shift immediately.
Not obvious at first.
Just small changes in energy.
Conversations that paused slightly when I walked by.
Eyes that lingered a little too long before looking away.
At my desk, I placed my things down slowly, scanning the room.
Then I heard it.
“Is it true she’s working at a bar at night?”
”I heard it’s not just working.
Someone said she leaves with men.”
”She doesn’t look like that type though…”
”That’s exactly what they all say.”
My fingers tightened around my pen.
I forced myself to breathe normally and pretended I hadn’t heard anything.
But the whispers didn’t stop.
They moved like currents through the office.
Subtle, then spreading.
“She’s probably someone’s mistress,” another voice said, quieter but still sharp enough to reach me.
“Otherwise why would she need that kind of job?”
That one landed differently.
I looked down at my desk, willing myself not to react.
Mistress.
The word didn’t even belong to me, and yet it was being attached to me so easily, like people needed something simple to understand what they didn’t bother to ask about.
My jaw tightened.
I knew exactly where this was coming from.
Sasha.
When I finally saw her near the break area, laughing softly with two coworkers, something in me settled into clarity.
Not confusion nor hesitation.
Just certainty.
I walked straight toward her.
She noticed me approaching and her smile shifted slightly.
“Elara—”
”I need to talk to you,” I said.
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the others before she stepped aside.
“Sure.
What’s wrong?”
I stopped in front of her, keeping my voice low but steady.
“Why are people talking about me like this?”
Her expression changed almost imperceptibly.
“Talking about you how?”
”You know exactly how,” I said.
“About the bar.
About what I do at night.
About things that aren’t true.”
Sasha sighed softly, like she was already tired of the conversation.
“Elara, I didn’t say anything directly.”
”Liar.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“I just mentioned I saw you leaving with a man after work.
That’s it.
People talk.
I can’t control what they assume.”
My stomach tightened.
“You knew exactly what they would assume.”
She didn’t deny it.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re surprised.
You disappeared last night without telling anyone properly.
What did you think people would say?”
”You knew so damn well what happened,” I replied sharply.
“You were there.”
”Well,” she said quietly, “when you’re seen leaving with a man late at night, dressed like that, people fill in the gaps.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You started this rumor.”
”I didn’t,” she replied smoothly.
“I just didn’t stop it.”
Something in me snapped cleanly at that moment.
All the frustration from last night, the humiliation, the whispers I had just heard… it all condensed into one sharp, clear emotion.
I raised my hand before I could reconsider and slapped her across the face.
The sound echoed sharply through the office space and everyone went silent.
Sasha froze, her head turned slightly from the impact, eyes wide in disbelief.
I stood there, breathing hard.
“I trusted you,” I said quietly.
“It was a mistake to treat you as a friend.”