Effortlessly Yours

She never meant to notice him.

Not like that.

She was twenty-three, too young to know how far desire could bend rules, too stubborn to walk away when it was the only right thing left.

And he - he was thirty-one, someone's to be husband, someone's forever. A man who kept his engagement ring on.

He never said anything inappropriate. Never looked at me longer than polite conversation allowed. But something in the air changed whenever he entered the room - like the space between them grew charged, waiting, wanting. Or maybe that was just her, projecting my ridiculous heart onto a man who wore commitment on his left hand.

He talked about his fiance sometimes - casually, distantly.

And that should've been enough to stop her.

But my heart - it doesn't listen to rules. It doesn't care about rings or right and wrong. It only knows how it races when he laughs, how it sinks when he walks away.

He doesn't know.

Or maybe he does, and pretends not to.

All I know is, I'm already too far gone.
And he hasn't even touched me.

Yet.