The Edge of Ending

Some bonds reshape us. Others define us. For Lia and Adam, love lies at the fragile intersection of both. Bound by an emotional connection that defies distance, they find themselves on the brink of unravelling. As love blurs the lines between dependency and growth, they must choose: hold on to what they have—or let go to discover who they might become.
At the edge of ending, they must find their own beginning.

The First Encounter

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above Lia’s desk, casting a harsh glow over the endless stacks of paper. The office smelled of burnt coffee and the metallic tang of printer ink—an aroma so ingrained in her daily life it no longer registered. The soft hum of a printer filled the background, a constant rhythm that, like everything else, had faded into the mundane. It was a backdrop that seemed to echo the steady, unchanging beat of her days.

Lia thrived on predictability. The steady rhythm of emails, phone calls, and overdue invoices anchored her, even when life beyond her desk felt unsteady. She liked knowing what came next; surprises, she often said, were overrated. Yet, sometimes, the unchanging routine felt less like stability and more like stagnation, a thought she quickly brushed aside whenever it crept in.

She sipped her lukewarm coffee, scrolling through her inbox. Most of the messages were the same: curt, transactional, devoid of warmth. Her responses mirrored their tone—efficient, professional, and impersonal. The work was never-ending, but that suited her just fine. It gave her little time to dwell on the growing emptiness she refused to name.

When Adam Carter’s email landed in her inbox, she opened it with the same detached efficiency she always felt. The subject line, Missing Receipts—Follow-Up, was unremarkable. The message itself was polite, outlining the issue clearly. She appreciated that; it saved time.

But it was the closing line that gave her pause:

Thank you in advance, and I hope the day treats you kindly.

She read it twice, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Something about the unexpected softness of his words lingered, tugging at her. It was a small thing, but it broke through the monotony of her day. She could almost hear the sincerity and the kindness in those words, a warmth that felt startling against the sterile backdrop of her day.

She typed her response, keeping it professional, detached. And because Lia was good at her job, moments later, the matter was resolved, and she moved on to the next task.

Or at least, she tried to. That closing line stuck with her.

“I hope the day treats you kindly.” The words felt out of place, almost too tender for her cold inbox. It was the kind of kindness she didn’t realize she’d been missing. How long had it been since someone wished her well with such simple sincerity? Her partner rarely noticed when she was overwhelmed, and her colleagues only ever asked about deadlines or deliverables. She shook her head, annoyed at herself for overthinking something so trivial.

That afternoon, her phone rang. Lia glanced at the screen, surprised to see Adam Carter’s name.

“This is Lia,” she answered, her voice brisk. She had been told that she sounded too harsh, too detached on the phone. But it was her nature, work was not the place for cosiness or niceties. To stand out and resolve all the big and the small issues that landed in her inbox daily, she had to take action and control, no holding back.

“Hi, Lia. Adam Carter here. We emailed earlier,” he began. His voice was warm, deliberate, with a faint edge of fatigue. “I just wanted to thank you for sorting that out so quickly. Do you always sound this calm when the world is on fire?”

Her lips twitched into a soft smile as she leaned back in her chair. Usually, if a matter was resolved there was no need for a follow-up. And so she braced herself for what was next. “Calm’s my default setting. It saves energy for the real fires.”

His laugh came easily, deep and unhurried. It wasn’t the kind of laugh she usually heard at work—polite and restrained—but something softer, more genuine. The warmth in his voice lit something within her, a flicker of something long buried beneath the layers of routine.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “maybe I should hire you to handle my life. You seem to have a gift.” His words caught her off guard, for a moment she wondered how to steer the conversation back to work, but there was something pulling her in a more casual direction.

The call ended quickly with Adam thanking her again. He made it sound as she just saved his life or his career. This kind of gratefulness was unusual. As Lia packed up her desk that evening, her thoughts lingered. At home, her partner’s voice seemed to come from far away as he asked about dinner. She nodded absently, her mind still tracing the soft lilt of Adam’s laugh. The contrast was startling—her partner’s words carried a weight of routine, while Adam’s laugh threaded through her thoughts like a melody she hadn’t heard in years.