A Foolish Move

I fidgeted with the pen in my hand, unable to contain my curiosity. "How did you meet Aaron Torres's brother?" I inquired, my eyes fixed on Dr. Lawson, who was engrossed in reading my revised proposal.

He hummed in response, flipping through the pages as he spoke. "I was part of the team of therapists assigned to help him," he replied, his focus still on the document.

Intrigued, I squinted my eyes. "And? What else did you learn about him?" I pressed eagerly.

Dr. Lawson lifted his gaze and chuckled softly. "Are you truly that interested to know?" he teased, his eyes meeting mine.

Without hesitation, I nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across my face. My excitement was palpable, evident in the sparkle of my widened eyes.

Dr. Lawson's smile softened as he placed the proposal on his desk. "I can't disclose more information about him," he stated, causing my shoulders to slump in disappointment. I had been so excited, only to have my hopes dashed. I twisted my mouth in frustration and nodded slowly, exhaling heavily as I leaned back in my chair.

"But," he added, drawing my attention back to him.

"But what?" I prompted eagerly.

"As a research student, you can access all the information regarding this case if you choose this case as your research subject," he informed me, reigniting my interest.

My eyes widened with excitement. "Really?" I asked, leaning forward eagerly.

He nodded affirmatively. "Yes, but only for educational purposes. You'll need written approval to conduct this research, and I can help you obtain it," he explained.

I gasped, my excitement bubbling over as I leaned in closer. "Can you?" I asked eagerly.

He smiled at my enthusiasm and nodded. "Yes, I can, but..." He paused, a note of caution in his tone. "This case can be quite daunting. It was a brutal and high-profile case, given the Torres family's influence in the '90s," he warned. "Taking on this research will require a lot of hard work and effort. If you're willing to commit, I'll get you the approval," he assured me. "But think it over carefully."

"Will you be there to guide me?" I asked, seeking reassurance.

Dr. Lawson chuckled lightly. "As your supervisor, I'll be with you every step of the way," he affirmed.

I didn't need to think twice. I had already immersed myself in research on this case, and the opportunity to delve deeper was irresistible. With a beaming smile, I declared, "I'm ready. I don't need to think about it anymore," feeling a surge of excitement, unlike anything I'd experienced before in my university studies.

Later that day, Jess came over to Atlas's house straight from the university with me. There was some construction work going on in her building, making it unbearably loud, so she decided to stay with me until after dinner. We had plans to eat out that night. Jess had never had a meal at Atlas's house before and that’s not going to change now either. The reason? Me. I never invited her, and she understood why.

This house isn’t mine. It’s a refuge for me until I can access the wealth my parents left me. I once jokingly promised Jess that she could mooch off me when I got the money, and she just laughed. I felt bad for never letting her have a meal here, but inviting her felt wrong. She understood and always supported me. This was Atlas’s place, not mine. And with Eva around, I was even more conscious of how this space felt like theirs, not mine.

Right now, Jess and I were alone in the kitchen. I was preparing us some cold coffee while she snacked on grapes from the fruit basket. “So, let me get this straight,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth and leaning against the counter with her forearms resting on it. “Dr. Lawson is your supervisor now and you changed your topic to the Torres family murders?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, the focus of my topic will be Aaron Torres,” I replied, pouring milk into the whipped coffee and sugar mixture. “After he was caught, he was questioned about his motives, but he never spoke—not a single word. No one knows why he did it. He’s serving a life sentence at the Clinton Correctional Facility. According to the reports, even after all these decades, he still doesn’t talk about the murders or to anyone. He was only thirteen when he committed these murders, and I’m intrigued to learn what pushed him to take such drastic measures at such a young age,” I explained, handing her a glass of cold coffee.

She hummed, “That sounds interesting,” she commented, taking a sip of her coffee. We settled in the living room, enjoying our cold coffee on a hot, humid day while chatting about random topics. Eva and Atlas were still at work, so we had the house to ourselves. Once they returned, I planned to take Jess to my room. I didn’t want Atlas to feel like I was taking advantage of his kindness. Plus, Eva might not appreciate seeing my friends at Atlas’s place. I only have a few months left here, and I want to avoid any trouble in the meantime.

“Oh, by the way, Patrick and I are planning a barbecue at Mom and Dad’s place this weekend, and you are helping me arrange it,” Jess told me. I stiffened at the mention of Patrick’s name. She was completely unaware of what had happened between Patrick and me last time. I wasn’t sure if I could face him again; it would be incredibly awkward to be around him.

I opened my mouth to come up with an excuse, but before I could say anything, we heard the front door open. Atlas walked in, surprising me with his early return. He’s usually home after Eva.

He walked in casually but stopped in surprise when he saw us in the living room. “Oh, hi,” he greeted with a smile. He was dressed in a light blue collared shirt with dark grey pants, holding his suit jacket in his hand. His tie was missing. I wasn’t even sure if he had worn one this morning. He usually wears a tie on Wednesdays for his weekly meetings with his employees to look presentable. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing his watch on his left wrist. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had a bit of stubble—looks like he didn’t shave this morning. It suited him well. He smiled warmly at Jess. “Hello, Jess, I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?” he asked. Jess is the only friend of mine he knows well.

Atlas walked into the kitchen. Since it was an open kitchen connected to the living room, even as he entered, we could see him and he could see us. He opened the fridge and grabbed a small water bottle, twisting it open and taking a sip. Jess smiled at him. “I’m doing well, just busy with university,” she said with a shrug.

He smiled and nodded, gesturing towards me. “Oh, like this one,” he replied, amused.

Jess chuckled softly. “Pretty much, yes. But I believe she’ll be way busier than me now. She’s working under Dr. Lawson, and that man is tough to please,” she joked, glancing at me. I shot her a glare, but she only grinned back. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she didn’t seem to mind one bit.

I glanced at Atlas, who briefly locked eyes with me before diverting his gaze and placing the bottle back in the fridge. “Hmm, I’ve heard,” he muttered. He didn’t seem too impressed with Dr. Lawson, and I couldn’t understand why. He appeared slightly unimpressed when I mentioned my lunch with Dr. Lawson. It felt as though he didn’t approve of him. Perhaps he was just looking out for me, but I didn’t need his protection. I was a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

"Anyway," he muttered, exhaling as he stepped out of the kitchen. "How come you're home early today?" he asked, turning his attention to me.

I felt a twinge of disappointment at his lack of observation, or maybe it was because he was back home so early. "I always come back early on Wednesdays," I replied.

"Oh," he responded, followed by a brief awkward pause that he soon filled with a faded chuckle. "Um, I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said apologetically.

“I know,” I replied with a tight smile, nodding at him. "How come you're home early? I thought your Wednesdays were pretty busy with your staff meetings and all," I inquired, trying to keep my tone light.

He seemed a bit taken aback, raising an eyebrow. “You know about my Wednesday meetings?” he asked, his chuckle soft but genuine. He appeared pleasantly surprised, and I felt a flutter of warmth in my chest. I wanted to tell him that of course, I knew—after all, I paid attention to the details of his life. But I stopped myself, opting instead for a simple nod, masking the depth of my feelings. “Uh, well – I had a light day. Just a few meetings,” He replied, making me nod again.

"Anyway, what were you two up to?" Atlas asked us.

Jess smiled. "Oh, nothing much. We just had coffee, and I was just telling Harper about the barbecue I am throwing at my parents' home this weekend," she informed him.

Atlas smiled back. "Oh, that sounds like fun," he commented.

Jess beamed. "I hope so. That's why I need Harper's help. Also, Patrick will be there too, so..." She trailed off, her tone suggestive. I felt a pang of discomfort at the mention of Patrick. That's exactly why I didn't want to attend, but how could I explain this to Jess? She still held onto the hope that something could happen between Patrick and me, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her that her hopes would be shattered. I didn't love Patrick, and I doubted I ever would.

And this feeling wasn’t one-sided. I knew Patrick didn’t feel the same for me. The awkward night we spent together was evidence of the end of whatever we had between us. Jess knew about my feelings for Atlas, but since she knew I could never find happiness with him, she was keen to see me with Patrick. Maybe, one of these days, I needed to talk to her and tell her that what she was hoping for would never happen.

But right now didn’t seem like the right moment, so I heaved a sigh and shook my head. I glanced at Atlas and found him looking at me with a furrowed brow. I couldn’t tell what was on his mind, but I knew he was aware of my past relationship with Patrick. He didn’t seem mad or anxious—just a little concerned, maybe because he knew Patrick and I had broken up – and seeing your ex is never a good idea. Atlas had met Patrick once, but he was never one to ask a lot of questions. Even when I was with Patrick, or after we broke up, Atlas never pried.

I held Atlas’s gaze, trying to understand what he was thinking. His smile faltered into a tight line, and his eyebrows knitted together, his gaze intense on me.

Atlas finally looked away and nodded slowly. “I see,” he muttered. Clearing his throat, he added, “Have fun,” with a soft smile at Jess before glancing back at me and sighing. “I guess I’ll go and change,” he said politely to Jess, then walked into his room.

I didn't see him again until the next night at dinner. Eva was out with her friends, leaving just me and Atlas at the table. The silence during most of the meal was almost unbearable. I hate eating in silence when there's a company, but Atlas rarely talks to me.

He’s completely different from Eva. With her, he does everything to make meals lively and engaging, showing how much he cares. And I'm not going to lie—it hurts. But I have to accept it. Atlas loves her, not me, and he does everything to make her happy. I’m just a burden he will soon be rid of, and then he can live in peace with Eva without my lingering presence. As for me, I’ll figure something out.

Near the end of dinner, Atlas broke the silence with a clearing of his throat. "Are you going to Jess’s barbecue this weekend?" he asked.

I chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I have to. If I didn’t, she would skin me alive," I joked.

He smiled softly and nodded. I didn’t want our conversation to end. I knew I should keep my distance from him to help myself move on, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. With Eva absent, I wanted to enjoy the rare moment, as mean as it may sound. Ignoring my intuition to finish my dinner in silence and retreat to my room, I carried on the conversation.

"What are your plans for the weekend?" I asked.

He exhaled and shrugged. "Not sure, probably going to work," he replied.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling. "Sure," I muttered sarcastically, playing with the remaining chicken on my plate. "Eva would love that," I added.

He chuckled too. "She won’t mind," he said, shaking his head and wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Knowing she will be out of town for the weekend."

His words caught my attention. "Out of town?" I echoed, surprised.

"Yeah," he nodded. "She's got a work trip. She leaves tomorrow morning."

I felt a mix of emotions—relief that Eva wouldn't be around, but also a pang of guilt for feeling that way. "Oh, I see," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

I did something incredibly foolish next. Every alarm bell in my mind was ringing, screaming at me not to utter the words forming in my mouth. But despite the warnings, my heart, longing for even the smallest semblance of closeness with Atlas, pushed me forward. So, against my better judgment, I blurted out, "So, why don’t you come with me to Jess’s barbecue?"

At that moment, I wished I had someone to smack some sense into me. I felt utterly hopeless, knowing deep down that Atlas could never be mine and that our future together was nothing but a wistful dream. Yet, the desire to bask in his presence, even for just a fleeting moment, overpowered my rational thoughts.