Episode 8: The Contract

I believe,” Diana says, “you are spiraling.”

“I am not spiraling.”

“You reorganized your files alphabetically. Twice.”

“…Precaution.”

She sits across from me.

Calm.

Certain.

“Recite the agreement,” she says.

I hesitate.

“…Self-care is mandatory.”

“And?”

“Overwork is prohibited.”

“And?”

“…I am to rely on you when necessary.”

She smiles.

“Good.”

I exhale.

“…I don’t like stopping.”

“I know.”

She stands.

Walks over.

Slowly removes one glove.

I tense—

Then stop.

It’s her.

Her hand brushes mine.

Warm.

Steady.

“Control,” she says softly, “is not the same as isolation.”

I don’t respond.

I can’t.

She tilts my chin slightly.

“I can see you,” she murmurs.

I close my eyes.

“…I know.”

Later, we sit together.

Quiet.

No tension.

No noise.

Just presence.

Outside—

the world continues its endless cycle of poor decisions.

Inside—

we don’t.

And we never will.