Chapter Four
1627 Words
I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until I shut my apartment door behind me.
Silence followed behind me.
No ringing phones.
No footsteps.
No voices giving out instructions.
Just silence.
I dropped my bag by the door and leaned my back against it, closing my eyes. My heart ached in a way that had nothing to do with work.
I agreed to no expectations.
I agreed to no names.
So why did today feel like a punishment.
“Amelia.”
I opened my eyes slowly.
Layla stood in my living room, with folded arms and heavy eyes. She looked like she had been waiting for me for hours.
“You didn’t answer my texts,” she said.
“I was busy,” I replied weakly, pushing myself off the door.
“With your boss,” she said flatly.
I sighed. “Please don’t start.”
“Oh I’m starting,” she replied, walking toward me. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. My legs felt heavy as I walked to the couch and sat.
Layla sat beside me closely.
“Talk,” she said softly.
I stared at the wall.
“I just don’t get it,” I said finally. “I don’t understand. Why is this bothering me.”
She waited in silence.
“We agreed on everything,” I continued. “No expectations. No names. One night. That was all. That was everything it was meant to be.”
She nodded.
“But today,” my voice cracked slightly. “Today he acted like I didn’t exist.”
Layla frowned. “That’s what’s hurting you.”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “No. I don’t know.”
I rubbed my face. “He was polite. Professional. Calm. And it was worse than if he had yelled at me.”
Layla shifted. “Why.”
“Because it made me feel small,” I said. “Replaceable. Like whatever happened meant nothing.”
She studied me carefully. “Did it mean nothing to you.”
I opened my mouth, then stopped again.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “That’s the problem.”
I leaned back against the couch. “He canceled his lunch. Adjusted his schedule. Told me to take a break.”
“So he noticed you.”
“Yes,” I snapped. “But he wouldn’t look at me. Or even touch me. He wouldn’t even pause.”
Layla exhaled slowly. “That sounds intentional.”
“That’s what scares me.”
She went quiet for some minutes. Then she said, “This isn’t really about him. Is it.”
I turned to her. “What.”
“This,” she gestured vaguely. “This reaction. It didn’t start today.”
My throat went dry.
“Amelia,” she said gently. “When was the last time a man made you feel calm.”
The room felt smaller.
I swallowed. “I don’t want to talk about him okay.”
She didn’t push immediately.
“That man,” I said after a pause. “He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t invade space. He doesn’t make demands.”
“And that makes you uneasy,” she finished.
“Yes.”
I stared at my hands. “Because being that calm usually comes with a cost.”
She reached for my hand and squeezed it lightly..
“He doesn’t know what you’ve been through,” she said.
“I know.”
“And that scares you more.”
I laughed bitterly. “I hate that you know me so well.”
She smiled sadly. “You survived honey. That changes how your body reacts to people.”
I felt tears well up behind my eyes.
“I don’t even understand why I’m crying,” I whispered.
“You do,” she said. “You’re just tired of pretending you don’t.”
I wiped my face quickly. “I don’t want him mixed up in all this.”
“He already is,” she said gently.
The room fell quiet again. My phone buzzed on the table.
I ignored it.
Layla glanced at it. “You expecting someone?”
“No.”
It buzzed again.
I sighed and picked it up. Unknown number.
“Probably spam,” I muttered.
“Answer it,” Layla said. “If it’s nonsense, hang up.”
I hesitated, then answered.
“Hello.”
“Good evening, Amelia.”
My heart jumped violently. Layla’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” I said carefully. “This is she.”
“This is Mr. Harrington.”
I sat up straighter immediately, while Layla leaned closer.
“I hope I’m not calling too late,” he continued.
“No,” I replied. “It’s fine.”
There was a pause.
“I’d like to take you to dinner,” he said.
What!
“Dinner?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “Tonight.”
Layla slapped a hand over her mouth.
“I—” I hesitated. “Why?”
“Because I think a conversation is necessary,” he replied. “And it should not happen at the office.”
I swallowed.
“How did you get my number,” I asked.
“It’s in your file,” he said plainly. “You’re my employee.”
Layla mouthed, wow.
“I see,” I said.
“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he continued. “If that works for you.”
“You’re picking me up?”
“Yes.”
I hesitated again.
“Amelia,” he said, voice steady. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can say no.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“No,” I said. “I mean. Yes. Eight is fine.”
“Good,” he replied. “I’ll see you then.”
The call ended. I stared at the phone as Layla screamed.
“What the hell was that.”
“I don’t know,” I said faintly.
“He just asked you out.”
“He asked me to dinner.”
“That is a date.”
“It is not.”
“It is,” she insisted. “Your boss just asked you out.”
I stood up abruptly. “I need to shower.”
“Wait,” she said. “How do you feel.”
“Confused.”
“And.”
“Annoyed.”
“And.”
I paused. “Curious.”
She smiled knowingly. “We’re getting you ready.”
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.”
“Well my darling it is too late.”
We moved around my apartment in a strange rhythm. Layla talked while I showered. I listened without really hearing anything she was saying.
By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, Layla was already standing by my wardrobe.
“No,” she said immediately.
“What do you mean no,” I asked.
“That,” she pointed at the hanger I was reaching for. “You’re not wearing that.”
“It’s just dinner.”
“With your boss.”
“Exactly.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re exhausting.”
“I want it simple,” I said. “I don’t want to look like I tried.”
“You’re confusing simple with boring,” she replied, pulling out another dress. “Wear this.”
I stared at it. “That’s screaming too much.”
“It’s a dress,” she said. “Not a wedding gown.”
“I’m not trying to impress him.”
“You already did,” she said. “Now stop acting dramatic.”
She shoved the dress at me and turned around.
“Put it on,” she said. “I’m not looking.”
“You are absolutely looking.”
“I swear I’m not,” she replied, peeking over her shoulder.
I groaned but slipped it on anyway.
Layla turned fully and nodded. “Okay. That works.”
“I look overdressed.”
“You look sane,” she corrected. “Which is good, because right now you sound unhinged.”
I reached for my flats.
“Uh hell na,” she said.
“I’m wearing flats.”
“You are not,” she replied, grabbing a pair of heels. “Just for tonight.”
“I hate you.”
“You’ll thank me later.”
She crouched in front of me, fastening the strap while muttering under her breath.
“This man really scattered your brain,” she said.
“He did not.”
“He absolutely did,” she replied, standing up. “And I don’t like it.”
I met her eyes. “Me neither.”
She softened then, fixing my hair gently. “Just breathe, okay mama.”
“I am breathing.”
“Barely.”
A knock sounded at the door and my stomach did a flippy flop.
“That’s him,” Layla said.
“I know.”
She hugged me briefly. “Call me if anything feels off.”
“I will.”
I grabbed my bag and opened the door.
He stood there, dressed casually, no suit, no tie. And somehow still managed to look cooperate.
“Good evening,” he said.
“Good evening,” I replied.
He stepped aside. “Shall we?”
I nodded and followed him to the car.
As soon as I sat down, my phone began buzzing.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
I groaned softly and silenced it.
He glanced over. “Someone trying to reach you?”
“No one,” I said quickly.
The car pulled away from the curb. And my phone kept buzzing non-stop.
- Writer
