Cracks forming

The weekend had passed, giving rise to start of a new week.

The office was quiet in that slow afternoon stretch where time seemed to drag just a little more than usual, the kind of stillness where even the soft tapping of keyboards felt distant, and it became easier for your mind to wander without you really noticing when it started.

Lexi sat at her desk, eyes on her screen but not fully present, her attention drifting in and out as a thought she hadn’t intended to revisit quietly resurfaced—Jadon in the hallway, the way his tone had shifted, the way he had gone just slightly closed off in a moment that hadn’t seemed important at the time but now, for some reason, didn’t sit the same way anymore.

She frowned faintly, trying to place why it lingered, why it felt like something she should have paid more attention to, even though nothing about it had seemed worth questioning then.

“Hey.”

The voice pulled her out of it.

Lexi looked up to see Madison standing beside her desk, relaxed, composed, but with a kind of timing that felt almost deliberate, as though she had chosen a moment when Lexi wasn’t entirely occupied.

“Hey,” Lexi replied.

Madison leaned lightly against the partition, her posture casual, but her gaze briefly flicking across Lexi’s face and screen in a way that suggested she was making sure she had her full attention before continuing.

“Random question…” she said, her tone easy, almost conversational. “How do you know Jadon?”

Lexi didn’t hesitate, the answer coming naturally.

“He lives in my building,” she said. “That’s how we started talking—just running into each other, same area, nothing planned.”

Madison nodded slowly, not just acknowledging but absorbing, as if the information fit into something she already had in mind.

“Yeah,” she said. “That makes sense.”

There was a small pause, subtle but present, and without really meaning to, Lexi filled it.

“It was pretty normal,” she added. “Just casual stuff.”

That seemed to be the part Madison had been waiting for.

A faint smile appeared on her face, controlled and measured, not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “That’s usually how it starts.”

This time, Lexi noticed it.

Not the words exactly—but the way they were said, like they carried something more than they should have.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her tone shifting just slightly.

Madison exhaled softly, her gaze dropping for a brief second—not in avoidance, but in a way that felt like she was deciding how much to say and how to say it.

“Nothing,” she said at first, brushing it off just enough to lower any immediate tension.

Then, after a beat, she looked back up, watching Lexi carefully before continuing.

“I just didn’t realise back then either.”

Lexi frowned, leaning into it now without fully realising she was doing so.

“Realise what?”

Madison hesitated, but not uncertainly—the pause felt placed, giving the words that followed more weight than they would have had otherwise.

“That he could be… difficult,” she said, choosing the word carefully, soft enough to avoid sounding harsh, but precise enough to stay.

The silence that followed stretched just long enough to settle between them.

Lexi shifted slightly in her chair, her curiosity now fully engaged.

“Difficult how?” she asked.

Madison didn’t answer immediately, and instead of responding, she tilted her head slightly, studying Lexi in a quiet, almost assessing way, as though she were gauging how much of this conversation Lexi was ready for.

“Maybe that’s not fair,” she said after a moment, pulling back just enough to soften what she had already implied, making it sound reflective rather than accusatory.

“I just… didn’t see certain things coming.”

The vagueness did more than a direct answer would have.

Lexi watched her more closely now.

“What kind of things?”

Madison let the question sit in the space between them, allowing the silence to build just enough tension before shifting the direction entirely.

“…What did he tell you?” she asked instead.

The question caught Lexi slightly off guard.

“Not much,” she said. “Just that you guys dated.”

Madison let out a quiet breath, her expression settling into something that felt almost expected.

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds like him.”

There was something in the way she said it—something that suggested pattern, not surprise.

Lexi picked up on it.

“Why?” she asked.

Madison didn’t respond right away.

She glanced down briefly, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk, the movement subtle but intentional, letting the pause stretch just long enough that Lexi stayed with it instead of moving on.

Then she looked back up, meeting Lexi’s gaze in a way that felt steady, controlled.

“I don’t think he would,” she said.

“Would what?”

“Say anything,” Madison replied softly, her voice even, calm.

Then, after a beat, she added—

“I mean… would you, if you were him?”

The question shifted something.

It wasn’t just about Jadon anymore—it pulled Lexi into it, made her consider it from a position she hadn’t been in before.

Lexi didn’t answer.

Madison noticed, and in that same moment, adjusted.

A small, almost sympathetic smile appeared, softening the edge just enough.

“I’m not trying to make things weird,” she said gently, her tone easing, reassuring at exactly the right time.

“It’s just… some things aren’t easy to admit.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter—

“Especially when you’re the one who did something wrong.”

She didn’t push beyond that.

She didn’t need to.

Lexi felt the weight of it anyway.

“What did he do?” Lexi asked, more directly now, the question coming from a place that was no longer just curiosity.

Madison didn’t answer.

Her gaze dropped again, this time not as hesitation, but as restraint—as if she had reached a point she had already decided not to cross.

“It’s not really my place to get into that,” she said finally, her tone calm, measured, almost principled.

It made her seem credible.

Trustworthy.

Lexi stayed where she was, not letting it go.

“You can tell me,” she said. “He didn’t say anything.”

Madison let out a soft breath, her expression shifting just slightly, and for a brief second her eyes flicked up to Lexi again—checking, measuring, deciding.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I don’t think he will.”

Another pause.

Then, softer, more personal—

“You’ll figure it out,” she added. “Just… pay attention.”

That line settled deeper than anything else.

Because it didn’t give Lexi an answer. It gave her a role. Madison straightened then, her posture resetting, the intensity dissolving almost instantly as her tone returned to something lighter.

“Anyway,” she said, “I’ve probably already said too much.” And just like that, she stepped away.

Lexi sat there for a moment, unmoving, her screen still open in front of her but no longer holding her attention, because now it wasn’t just a passing thought about Jadon or a vague memory of something feeling off—it was a possibility, something undefined but present, something that had quietly attached itself to everything she thought she knew about him.

And the more she sat with it, the more those small moments she had once ignored began to shift in meaning, not enough to prove anything, but enough to make her question whether she had been seeing things clearly at all.

---

Over the next couple of days, the shift was subtle, but consistent enough to feel intentional.

Lexi still crossed paths with Jadon in hallways, quick stops at the door, the kind of moments that used to stretch into easy conversation. But now they ended almost as soon as they began, her responses shorter, her attention slipping away before anything could settle into something familiar.

Jadon noticed, even if he didn’t say anything.

Daisy noticed sooner.

By the second day, it wasn’t something she could ignore anymore. That evening, the apartment felt unusually still, not because nothing was happening, but because something was being avoided.

Lexi sat on the couch with her laptop open, though she hadn’t typed anything in a while, her eyes resting on the screen without really seeing it. Daisy watched her from the kitchen for a moment before walking over, drying her hands as she dropped into the chair across from her.

“Okay,” she said, her tone calm but direct enough to break through the quiet, “what’s going on with you?”

Lexi looked up, slightly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Daisy gave her a look that made it clear she wasn’t going to let that pass. “You’ve been off with Jadon for two days,” she said. “Like… actually off. You’re avoiding him, you barely talk when he’s around, and you didn’t even come out when he asked to hang. That’s not normal.”

Lexi hesitated, her fingers resting still against the edge of her laptop. “It’s nothing,” she said, but it lacked conviction.

Daisy leaned back slightly, studying her. “Don’t do that,” she said, softer now but firmer. “If something’s bothering you, just say it.”

There was a pause. Long enough to feel like a choice. Lexi exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping before she spoke.

“I talked to Madison,” she said. That shifted something immediately.

Daisy’s expression tightened slightly. “Jadon’s ex?”

Lexi nodded. Daisy let out a small breath through her nose. “Okay… and?”

Lexi hesitated, not because she didn’t remember, but because she wasn’t sure how to explain something that had never been said directly. “She didn’t say much at first,” Lexi began. “But then she started… implying things.”

Daisy frowned. “Like what?”

Lexi looked up at her. “Like he wouldn’t talk about what happened,” she said. “She asked me what he told me, and when I said nothing, she just… said she wasn’t surprised.” A small pause. “She kept saying things like… ‘would you, if you were him?’”

Daisy’s brows pulled together slightly, trying to piece it together. “That’s still pretty vague,” she said.

“I know,” Lexi replied quickly. “That’s what I thought too. But it didn’t feel vague when she said it. It felt like she was… holding something back on purpose.”

Daisy didn’t interrupt. Lexi continued, quieter now. “She said some things aren’t easy to admit,” she said. “Especially if you’re the one who did something wrong.”

That line lingered in the space between them. Daisy leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “But that’s still her side, and she didn’t even actually say anything.”

Lexi nodded slightly, but didn’t fully agree. “She didn’t need to,” she said. “It was more like… she wanted me to come to my own conclusion.”

Daisy gave a small, skeptical huff. “Yeah, that’s called being vague on purpose,” she said. “People do that when they want you to assume the worst without actually saying it.”

Lexi didn’t respond immediately. Because that part… felt true too. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “It just… stuck with me.”

Daisy watched her for a moment, then asked more carefully, “Has he done anything to make you feel like something’s off?”

Lexi hesitated. And this time, her mind didn’t go to anything clear.

Just fragments. Moments that hadn’t meant anything before. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Not really. But now when I think about certain things… they feel different.” Daisy nodded slowly, understanding the feeling even if she didn’t fully agree with the direction it was taking.

“Yeah,” Daisy said. “That’s what happens when someone puts an idea in your head.”

A pause. Then, more firmly— “Look, I don’t trust her,” she said. “Not like that. She’s his ex, and clearly things didn’t end well, so of course she’s going to frame it a certain way.”

Another pause.

“But…” she added, her tone shifting slightly, less certain now, “that doesn’t automatically mean he’s completely fine either.”

That was the part that landed. Lexi looked up at her. Daisy shrugged lightly.

“I’m just saying, I don’t know him well enough to defend him blindly,” she said. “But I’m definitely not taking her word for it either.”

Lexi leaned back slightly, exhaling.

“That’s exactly where I’m stuck,” she said quietly.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Because the uncertainty wasn’t going away. It was just… sitting there now. And neither of them knew what to do with it yet.

---

A few days passed, but the feeling didn’t.

It didn’t disappear, didn’t resolve itself—it just settled somewhere in the background, quietly influencing the way Lexi moved through things, the way she responded, the way she thought about moments that had once felt simple.

By Friday, the week had felt longer than it should have.

Going out for drinks wasn’t something she had planned, but when a few colleagues suggested it, she didn’t say no.

Maybe because she needed the distraction.

Or maybe because she needed something to break the loop in her head.

The bar was dimly lit, warm tones softening everything, conversations overlapping into a low, constant hum that made it easier to blend into the background without having to think too much.

Lexi stayed with the group at first, half-engaged, listening more than speaking, letting the noise carry the weight of interaction for her.

Madison was there too, though not immediately close, moving naturally through the group, talking, laughing lightly, blending in with everyone else in a way that felt effortless and unforced, and for a while, the distance between them remained just enough that Lexi didn’t have to think about her directly, even though the awareness of her presence never really left.

At some point, a couple of drinks in, the space between them closed—not abruptly, not in a way that would draw attention, but gradually, almost inevitably, until Madison was sitting beside her, setting her glass down with a soft clink that barely registered over the noise around them.

“You’ve been quiet this week,” Madison said, her tone lighter now, a little looser around the edges, but still carrying that same quiet awareness beneath it.

Lexi gave a small, noncommittal smile, her fingers resting around her glass.

“Just tired, I guess,” she said, though even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t really the reason.

Madison hummed softly, not quite agreeing, but not challenging it either, letting the moment sit just long enough that the silence between them didn’t feel empty, but expectant.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, the sound of voices and laughter around them filling the space, until Madison turned slightly, her attention settling more directly on Lexi.

“You’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” she said, and this time it wasn’t phrased like a question.

Lexi didn’t try to deny it, because there didn’t seem to be any point.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly.

She paused for just a fraction of a second before adding, almost lightly, though not without intention—

“I didn’t realise you two were that close.”

The line was soft, casual on the surface, but it shifted something underneath, because it didn’t just acknowledge Jadon—it reframed Lexi’s connection to him in a way that made it feel more significant, more exposed than Lexi had been treating it.

Lexi’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass, her mind catching up to what had just been implied.

“We’re not—” she started, then stopped, the words not quite landing the way she intended them to.

Madison didn’t interrupt, but there was a brief flicker in her expression, like she had noticed the hesitation and filed it away.

“Right,” she said, nodding slowly, not challenging it, but not fully agreeing either, leaving just enough space for doubt to exist without having to say anything more directly. “Okay,” she said. “But this stays between us.”

Lexi nodded without hesitation. Madison glanced down at her drink, turning the glass slightly between her fingers, giving herself a moment—not because she didn’t know what she was about to say, but because she understood the effect it would have once it was said out loud. When she looked back up, her expression had shifted, softer, more personal, or at least carefully arranged to feel that way.

“He cheated,” she said.

The words were simple, almost flat in the way they were delivered, but they landed with a weight that felt disproportionate to how quietly they had been spoken. Lexi didn’t respond immediately, her mind taking a second longer than expected to catch up with what she had just heard.

Madison didn’t rush to fill the silence, allowing it to stretch, allowing the words to settle fully before adding anything else. “More than once,” she continued after a moment, her tone steady, controlled in a way that made it feel considered rather than emotional. “It wasn’t just a mistake.”

Lexi’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass, the condensation cool against her skin, grounding her in the moment even as her thoughts began to move elsewhere.

“And every time I brought it up,” Madison went on, her voice lowering just enough to draw the conversation inward, “he’d turn it around, make it seem like I was overthinking, like I was the one creating problems that weren’t even there.”

Something about that line landed differently.

Not because it was dramatic, but because it felt familiar in a way Lexi couldn’t immediately explain, her mind pulling up small, insignificant moments—things she hadn’t questioned at the time, things she had let pass without thinking twice—that now seemed to shift slightly under this new framing.

Madison’s gaze stayed on her, watching, reading the change as it happened.

“That’s the worst part,” she said softly. “You start doubting yourself without even realising it.”

A pause followed, heavier now, the kind that made it difficult to move away from the conversation even if part of you wanted to.

“And then it got worse.”

Lexi looked at her, her attention fully there now.

Madison held her gaze just long enough before saying it.

“He cheated with my sister.”

For a second, the noise of the bar seemed to dull, as though everything around them had dropped just slightly out of focus. Lexi blinked, the words taking a moment to settle into something real. Madison let out a small, humorless breath, lifting her glass for a sip, using the movement as a brief break in the intensity.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. Another silence followed, this one heavier, more grounded, as though there was nothing left to soften what had already been said.

“After that, everything just… fell apart,” Madison continued, her tone steadier now, less emotional on the surface, but carrying something underneath it that felt deliberate, like she had already processed it—but not completely let it go.

“Friends found out, family found out—it got messy,” she said, her gaze dropping briefly to her drink before lifting again.

She paused for a moment, just long enough to make what came next feel heavier.

“And instead of dealing with any of it,” she added, more quietly now, “he just… left.”

There was no sharpness in her voice, which somehow made it land harder.

“Moved cities,” she continued, her eyes holding Lexi’s now, “like putting distance between it all would somehow make it disappear.”

A small, almost restrained breath left her. “I stayed,” she said, not emphasizing it, but letting the contrast speak for itself. “I was ready to talk, to figure things out, to… at least try to make sense of it.”

Another pause.

“But he didn’t come back,” she finished, her tone soft, controlled, but carrying just enough weight to suggest that, if he had, things might have been different.

Lexi didn’t respond, because by now her thoughts weren’t just about Madison anymore, but about Jadon, about Daisy, about herself, about the dynamic she had been part of without questioning, and how easily it could be reframed into something else entirely.

Madison watched her for a moment, catching the shift, then softened her tone just slightly, easing the edge of everything she had just said.

“I’m not saying that’s who he is now,” she added.

A small pause.

“People change.”

Another pause, carefully placed.

“But just… don’t ignore it if something feels off.”

She didn’t say anything more after that, and she didn’t need to, because by then the conversation had already done what it was meant to do.

And as Lexi sat there, her thoughts looping back through every moment she had shared with Jadon, every interaction she had taken at face value, every small detail she had overlooked—

for the first time, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted her own version of things anymore.

---

Back in Jadon’s apartment, the noise of the outside world had long faded, leaving behind a quieter, more contained kind of stillness, the kind that felt familiar and private, as though everything beyond those walls had been momentarily put on hold.

They had spent most of the day wrapped up in each other, less out of intention and more out of a shared need to let go of everything that had been building over the past few days, using that closeness as a way to release tension neither of them had really addressed out loud.

Now, with that intensity settling into something softer, they lay back on the bed, side by side, their hands loosely intertwined, the energy between them no longer urgent but calm, almost quiet in its own way, as they looked at each other without speaking, letting the silence hold what neither of them felt the need to say just yet.

Daisy lied at the edge of the bed, her hand adjusting her hair, her posture relaxed but not entirely, like her mind was still catching up to something she hadn’t fully processed yet. Jadon moved around the room casually at first, picking up his boxers, wearing them again, running a hand through his hair in a way that didn’t quite register as restlessness until you paid attention to it, like something beneath the surface hadn’t settled.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

Then, almost offhandedly, like it wasn’t meant to carry much weight—

“Hey… what’s going on with Lexi?” he asked.

His tone was light, but there was just enough hesitation in it to suggest he’d been thinking about it longer than he was letting on.

Daisy glanced at him, already knowing where this was going.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Jadon gave a small shrug, though it didn’t fully mask the tension in his shoulders.

“She’s just been… different,” he said. “Like she’s avoiding me or something.”

Daisy exhaled softly, her gaze dropping for a moment before she answered.

“She talked to Madison.”

The change in him was immediate.

It wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable—the slight stillness in his movement, the way his hand paused mid-motion before dropping to his side, the way his jaw tightened just enough to give it away even though he didn’t say anything right away.

“When?” he asked.

His voice was controlled, but lower now, like he was already bracing for something.

“A couple of times this week,” Daisy said, watching him more carefully now.

Jadon nodded once, but it wasn’t the same casual acknowledgment as before—it was slower, heavier, like he was absorbing more than just the words.

“And?” he asked.

Daisy hesitated.

“She didn’t say exactly what Madison told her,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but… it was enough to get in her head.”

Jadon let out a breath that felt more like he’d been holding it in than releasing it, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he turned slightly away, pacing once across the room before stopping again.

“Of course,” he muttered, the words quieter now, edged with something closer to frustration than dismissal.

Daisy watched him.

“She didn’t say anything specific,” she added. “It’s more like… Madison implied things.”

Jadon gave a short, humorless exhale, shaking his head slightly as if that confirmed exactly what he had expected—but the tension in his posture didn’t ease.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds like her.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, this time slower, pressing his palm briefly against the back of his neck as if trying to release something that wouldn’t quite go away.

There was a pause.

Daisy shifted slightly, her tone more direct now.

“She thinks you’re hiding something.”

Jadon didn’t answer.

Not immediately.

Instead, his gaze dropped, his shoulders tightening for a second before he exhaled again, longer this time, like he was trying to steady himself before responding.

“Yeah,” he said finally, quieter now. “I figured.”

The lack of surprise made it worse somehow.

Daisy frowned slightly.

“You’re not even going to ask what she thinks?” she said.

Jadon gave a small shake of his head, but this time there was no trace of ease in it, only a kind of tired restraint, like he was deliberately holding something back.

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” he said. “If it’s coming from Madison, I already know how it sounds.”

He didn’t look at Daisy when he said it. Another pause settled between them, heavier now. Daisy leaned forward slightly, studying him. “Then tell her,” she said. “Clear it up.”

Jadon let out a slow breath, his hands dropping to his sides before he rubbed his face briefly, the gesture quick but telling, like he was already overwhelmed by the idea of having to explain it. “Not like that,” he said. “Not like this.”

His tone wasn’t defensive. It was strained. Daisy noticed. And that was the part that unsettled her.

“See, that’s the problem,” she said, not harshly, but honestly. “You’re not saying anything, and she’s already thinking something’s off.”

Jadon didn’t argue. Didn’t correct her. He just looked away again, quieter now, the tension still sitting in his shoulders, not leaving. “I just don’t want to get into it right now,” he said.

A beat. “Not today.”

Daisy held his gaze for a moment longer, trying to read something beyond what he was saying.

Because she didn’t believe Madison, but this reaction… this didn’t feel like nothing.

“Okay,” she said finally.

But her tone had shifted. Not convinced. Not unconvinced either. Just… uncertain.

---

The tension didn’t completely disappear, but it loosened just enough that it no longer sat at the center of everything between them. Daisy leaned back slightly, exhaling, like she didn’t want to stay in that heaviness any longer than necessary.

“Okay,” she said, softer now, almost brushing it off. “Let’s not get into all that right now.”

Jadon didn’t respond immediately, but there was a small shift in his posture, like he was quietly relieved the conversation was moving away from something he clearly wasn’t ready to unpack. For a few seconds, the room settled into a calmer, more neutral space, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel ****—just tired.

“Feels like this week has been weird,” Daisy said after a moment, her tone lighter now.

Jadon let out a quiet breath, something between agreement and exhaustion.

“Yeah,” he said. “It has.”

The conversation didn’t go much further after that, both of them letting it taper off naturally as the energy in the room softened. After a while, Daisy glanced at the time on her phone before pushing herself up from the bed.

“I should head back,” she said.

Jadon looked up at her, nodding.

“Yeah.”

She moved around the room, picking up her things, slipping on her hoodie, her movements familiar and unhurried, like she’d done this a hundred times before.

When she reached the door, she paused, her hand resting lightly against the handle before she turned back to look at him. “Hey,” she said.

Jadon met her gaze. There was a brief pause, like she was deciding whether to say it or not.

“Have you been sleeping with anyone else?” she asked, her tone casual, almost too casual. “Like… apart from us?”

The question landed differently coming now, quieter, more direct in the stillness of the room. Jadon blinked once, caught slightly off guard by the timing, before shaking his head.

“No,” he said.

There was no hesitation, no overthinking—just a simple, straightforward answer. Daisy watched him for a second, like she was checking for something more, then nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

Another small pause settled between them, but this one felt lighter. She gave a faint smile, shifting the tone herself before it could drift back into anything heavier.

“Good,” she added, a hint of playfulness slipping in. “Would’ve been disappointing otherwise.”

Jadon let out a small breath that almost turned into a laugh, the tension easing just a fraction more. Daisy leaned lightly against the doorframe now, her expression softening into something more familiar.

“Anyway,” she said, a teasing edge returning, “you probably wouldn’t even like it with anyone else.”

Jadon raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh yeah?” he said.

She smirked, just a little. “Yeah,” she replied. “No one’s going to be as good as me.”

That pulled a real reaction out of him this time. A small smile, sharper, more genuine. “Confident,” he said.

Daisy shrugged lightly. “Just being honest.”

Jadon shook his head slightly, the hint of that earlier tension still there, but no longer dominating. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” he replied, a quiet, easy wit slipping back into his tone.

Daisy held his gaze for a second longer, like she was measuring something, then gave a small nod.

---

Lexi hadn’t been able to let it go.

Everything Madison had said had settled into her mind in a way that didn’t feel like a passing conversation anymore, but something heavier, something that kept replaying itself in fragments, connecting to moments she hadn’t questioned before, slowly reshaping the way she saw things.

And the more she thought about it, the more it started to form into something she couldn’t ignore.

To her, it no longer felt unclear.

It felt obvious.

Jadon wasn’t just being distant or complicated—he was managing things, keeping both her and Daisy in something undefined, something convenient, something he could walk away from whenever it suited him.

The thought sat wrong.

And the anger that came with it didn’t feel sudden—it felt built.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the passage, it was already there.

And then she saw them.

Daisy standing just outside Jadon’s apartment. In a hoodie Lexi didn't recognize.

Jadon in the doorway behind her.

Talking.

Close enough.

Comfortable enough.

For a brief second, everything aligned—her gaze landing first on Daisy, then shifting just slightly to Jadon, still standing in the doorway behind her.

And in that same instant, something in her expression changed.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but it was immediate—the softness gone, replaced by something tighter, sharper, a controlled kind of anger that had been building long before this moment.

Daisy noticed it right away.

“Lexi—” she started, instinctively.

“Come with me,” Lexi said.

Her voice was steady, but firm enough that it didn’t feel like a request. Daisy blinked, caught off guard by both the timing and the tone.

“Hey, what—” she began.

“Now,” Lexi added, her eyes still fixed on Daisy, though there was a brief flicker toward Jadon before settling back again.

That flicker was enough. Jadon stepped forward slightly, the door still half open behind him.

“Lexi,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, “can we just talk for a second?”

She didn’t look at him immediately. When she did, it wasn’t the same. “What is there to talk about?” she said, her tone controlled, but edged in a way that made it clear she wasn’t open to it.

Jadon hesitated for a fraction of a second, then tried again. “About what Madison’s been telling you,” he said. “You’re not getting the full—”

Lexi cut him off before he could finish. “I don’t think this is the place,” she said, her voice tightening slightly, not raised, but firm enough to shut it down completely.

Daisy stepped in, trying to diffuse it before it escalated. “Hey, just—wait,” she said, her tone softer, grounding. “Let’s not jump into anything right now.”

Lexi shook her head almost immediately. “I’m not jumping into anything,” she replied. “I just don’t want to stand here and pretend like everything’s normal.”

That landed harder than anything else. Jadon stepped out a little further into the hallway now.

“Then don’t,” he said. “But at least let me explain—”

Lexi let out a short breath, something between frustration and restraint, finally turning fully toward him. “Explain what?” she asked. “Because from what I’ve heard, it sounds like there’s a lot you haven’t said.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was loaded. Daisy glanced between them, tension rising faster than she could manage.

“Okay, this isn’t helping,” she said, stepping slightly closer to Lexi. “Let’s just go inside and talk, yeah? Calm down first.”

Lexi’s jaw tightened slightly.

“I am calm,” she said, though the edge in her voice suggested otherwise. Then, softer but no less firm— “Daisy, just come with me.”

Daisy hesitated, glancing back at Jadon. He didn’t say anything this time, but the tension in his posture said enough.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Daisy said quietly to him.

Jadon exhaled, running a hand through his hair, frustration contained but visible.

“Lexi—” he tried once more. But she was already stepping back toward their door.

“Not now,” she said. No hesitation.

Daisy lingered for a second longer, then followed, her expression caught somewhere between concern and uncertainty. They stepped inside. Just before they closed, Daisy glanced back once. Jadon was still standing there, in the doorway, the space behind him now feeling smaller, more confined.

Then the doors shut. And the hallway fell silent again, except now, it didn’t feel still.

It felt like something had just begun.