She shrugged, unfazed. "Well, someone has to keep you on track. I don’t know how you juggle all this stuff—landscaping on top of everything else. You need to start organizing your life. One of these days, you’ll drown in all this chaos."

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the familiar pressure of caffeine withdrawal creeping in. "Speaking of drowning..." I reached for my mug of coffee. “At least it’s not Asa’s horrible brew this time. Maybe I’d be able to stay awake if I didn’t have to choke down that sludge.”

East gave me a smirk. "You really do live off coffee, don’t you?"

I shrugged. "Coffee’s the only thing keeping me alive right now. Plus, you don’t get anywhere in life without a good caffeine addiction."

"You need to stop procrastinating. You get the job done, but you make it harder on yourself every time. And, seriously, I’m getting worried. You’re running on fumes most days."

“I’m fine. Trust me.”

"I trust you," her voice softening a bit. "But you don’t have to make things harder on yourself. You have a lot of potential, Jeremy. I don’t want to see you burn out."

"Just promise me you’ll get your act together long enough to pull this off. And maybe clean up around here."

"Why are you so insistent on me cleaning?"

She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Your lovely Donovan is going to be here at 3 p.m." 

I froze and glanced at the clock, realizing I had exactly ten minutes to declutter my space before Donovan showed up. Sometimes, I really wished my office was smaller—maybe then I wouldn’t have so much room to spread out this chaos.

"Great," I muttered to myself, jumping up from the desk. "This is exactly what I need right now." 

East shot me a sympathetic look, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Maybe this will teach you to read your emails and be more organized.."

I gave her a half-hearted frown, my eyes flicking nervously back to the mess of papers and scattered coffee cups on my desk. 

"See you in ten."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, tossing a stack of papers into a drawer that barely closed.

By the ten-minute mark, I was spraying air fresheners and shoving the last of papers into my low-laying cabinet when I heard a soft knock on my door. 

I looked at my reflection in my window only to see my frightened eyes staring back. The bags under my eyes and unkept hair were clear indicators that I needed to sleep. I tried fixing my hair in the best way I could before opening the door.

Asa and Donovan were standing outside my door. Asa gave me a quick hug and smiled politely, but I couldn't quite focus on her. My gaze was locked on Donovan. 

He was stylish in a yellow and brown button-up shirt tucked neatly into blue jeans. His hair was styled in a half-up, half-down look, with two twists framing his face.

He looked put together, as always, and for a moment, I lost track of what was happening.

"So, are you going to invite us inside or...?" Asa's voice snapped me out of my daze. Her raised eyebrows made my cheeks redden with embarrassment.

"Uh, right. Come on in," I managed to say, stepping aside to let them in, trying to shake off the feelings that Donovan always seemed to bring out in me.

"Your office looks great," Asa began. I gave her a loaded look and she instantly chuckled. "And it smells great in here. What a lovely change."

I glanced at Donovan, hoping he wasn't paying attention to her and luckily he was focused on pulling folders from his bag. Nervous energy bubbled under my skin, and I discreetly pulled out my phone, sending a quick text: 

I feel like I’m about to mess this up.

There was no reply. Instead, Asa squeezed my hand under the table and shot me a reassuring smile. The moment was fleeting, though, as Donovan’s sharp gaze flicked to our joined hands. His frown was subtle but unmistakable. I pulled my hand back, clearing my throat to cover the awkwardness.

"I read through the information in the email you sent and I'm thrilled to know that you wanted to connect with us."

"Based on new findings, I thought it would be imperative to ensure Malik has support from multiple venues."

Asa motioned for me to speak.

“So, Don, I was—” 

“Donovan,” he interrupted his tone curt. “Call me Donovan.”

The correction hit me like a splash of cold water. “Right, sorry. Donovan.” My voice faltered slightly as I tried to recover. “I, uh, read through the case information. If I understood correctly, you’d like to sign Malik up for the mentorship program?”

“That’s right,” Donovan replied, his expression unreadable. “It’d be great for him to have a positive role model, especially with everything he’s going through right now. From the pamphlets I received, I noticed you also offer peer support groups. What’s the age range for those?”

Asa jumped in smoothly, her voice professional. “We currently have three groups: 14 to 17, 18 to 21, and the adult group."

I felt a wave of relief that she had answered, giving me a moment to catch my breath. But Donovan’s steady gaze didn’t let up. He’d never told me not to call him Don before. It felt jarring, a subtle reminder that I no longer had the privileges I once did. How naive of me to think he’d give me access I once had.

“If the mentorship goes well,” shifting his attention back to Asa, “I’ll discuss the peer support groups with him and his mother to see what they're open to. But for now, let’s focus on the mentorship.” He paused, then turned back to me, his tone cool. “Am I correct in assuming Jeremy will be Malik’s mentor?”

“That’s the plan,” Asa answered before I could speak. “ Jeremy finished an intensive summer mentorship program, so this will be his first time leading one solo.”

Donovan’s face remained neutral as he scribbled a note on his notepad. “I’ll email you Malik’s school schedule later today. You can use it to work out the best times.”

“Perfect,” Asa said brightly. “We’ll make it work.”

I nodded along, though my stomach twisted in knots.

"I'll be having a session with him this Friday. I think it's important that he meets you at my office before coming here. He's been coming there for quite some time and I don't want to change the location on him so quickly."

"No problem."

Donovan shifted in his chair, his focus firmly on me. "So, Jeremy, how do you plan to work with Malik? What’s your approach?"

I hesitated, trying to gather my thoughts. "Well, the mentorship program is about meeting kids where they’re at. I’ll talk to him, figure out what he’s comfortable with, and build from there. Maybe focus on developing his interests, confidence, and—"

"Confidence?" Donovan interrupted, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place. "That’s a good start. But do you think he’ll feel comfortable opening up to you?"

"I’ll work to build trust. That’s the first step in any mentorship relationship."

Donovan nodded slowly, tapping a pen lightly against the edge of his folder. "And if he doesn’t? If Malik feels like he can’t talk to you about what’s really going on?"

The question made my chest tighten. "Then I’ll adjust. It’s part of the process—figuring out how to connect in a way that works for him."

"Right," Donovan said, his voice softening but his words still cutting in a way that felt personal. "Adjusting. That’s important." He glanced up, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. "Sometimes, though, even with the best intentions, it’s hard to figure out how to give someone what they need."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "I think I can—"

"Good, because Malik’s had enough adults let him down already."

The comment landed like a weight in my chest. "I understand," I said quietly, trying not to let the sting show. "I’ll do my best."

For a moment, Donovan didn’t reply. He tapped his pen once more before setting it down. Then, almost as if he were talking more to himself than me, he murmured, "I hope it’s enough."

The words felt heavier than they should have, and I couldn’t tell if they were meant as an observation or a challenge. I glanced at Asa, hoping for some kind of intervention, but she was busy flipping through her notes, leaving us to our awkward exchange.

"Jeremy," Donovan said, breaking the silence. His voice was softer now, almost hesitant, but the weight behind his words didn’t let up. "Do you think Malik will feel like he can depend on you long-term?"

I frowned, feeling the unspoken layers in his question. "I’d like to think so," I replied carefully. "That’s what the program is designed for—offering consistent support."

Donovan’s lips quirked slightly, but it wasn’t quite a smile. "Consistency." He paused, his eyes meeting mine for a beat too long. "Not everyone gets that, though. It’s rare, even when you expect it, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

The meeting began to wrap up, and Asa excused herself to take a phone call, leaving Donovan and me alone in the room. He began packing his things, sliding folders into his bag.

The meeting had gone worse than I expected, and the strain between us felt thicker than ever. Gathering all my courage, I blurted out, "Donovan, wait."

He paused, his hands stilling over the zipper of his bag, and looked at me.

"I was thinking… before the mentorship starts, maybe we could—go somewhere? Talk? I … I want us to be able to work together without…" I faltered, the words sticking in my throat.

"Without what?" he asked, his voice cool but his expression guarded.

"Without all this… tension," I said, gesturing vaguely between us.

Donovan zipped his bag closed and straightened. "Jeremy, I’m a professional. My personal feelings don’t affect how I do my job. If you’re worried about that, you don’t need to be."

"I’m not—"

"Is it going to be a problem for you?" he interrupted, his gaze sharp.

"No," I said quickly, almost too quickly.

Donovan’s lips pressed into a thin line as he pushed one of the twists of his hair behind his ear. The movement was small but drew my attention, and for a brief moment, his mask slipped. He looked vulnerable—just for a second—and heartbreakingly cute.

"We can handle it."

I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten. "I don’t think I can."

Donovan’s eyes flicked back to mine, surprise flashing across his face.

"I mean, I just—" My voice cracked, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Please, Donovan. Just for a moment."

Donovan exhaled sharply, his hand gripping the strap of his bag. "I knew this would come up eventually. I didn't know what that conversation would mean for us."

The words felt like a weight in the air between us, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. "It doesn’t have to mean anything more than it should," I said. "I need you to know how sorry I am. For everything. For how I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, Donovan."

His eyes blurred, and I saw the way he blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. It made something twist painfully in my gut. "I know, Jeremy," he whispered, his voice wavering, "I'm sorry that I thought I could fix you." The last words hung heavily in the air, and I could barely breathe, the guilt choking me.

"You don't have to apologize," I said quickly, but the words felt hollow in my mouth like I wasn’t sure I could even believe them anymore.

"Even now," he murmured, "you still want to shoulder everything."

"I would do anything if it meant that I could protect you," I choked out, my voice cracking, raw and unsteady. "If I could go back, I would love you how you needed me to," I blurted without much thought.

The room was so quiet that I could hear his breath hitch before he spoke. "You can’t go back," he said softly, the weight of the words settling between us. "We can’t go back." 

"We can move forward. If you're willing to go with me. Can I see you again? Tonight? Tomorrow? I'll make the time."

"Tomorrow night."

Before I could form a response, before I could find the words to acknowledge him, he was gone.

All the progress I thought I made slipped through my fingers the moment I faced him. The truth was too hard to unpack.

Big thank you to the readers who stuck by me.  💛

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