The Smile That Stayed
1789 Words
Adam froze.
Emily stood in the doorway of the garden, framed by the glow of the lights from inside. Her face was calm, almost too calm, but her eyes… they held him. Steady. Searching. Unreadable.
He tried to look away, to act normal, but his body betrayed him. His hands tightened on the railing, his chest rose and fell too fast. She had caught him in a moment he wasn’t ready for, caught him with his guard down.
“Cold out here,” Emily said softly. Her voice was smooth, a gentle break in the silence.
Adam swallowed. “Just needed some air.”
Her lips curved, faint, like she knew more than she let on. She stepped into the garden, the silk of her dress brushing the stone floor. For a second, Adam thought she might turn back, but she didn’t. She came closer.
“You’re quiet,” she said, tilting her head. “Richard says you work harder than most men twice your age.”
Adam cleared his throat. “I… try.” His voice felt rough. “I want to prove myself.”
“You already have,” Emily replied. Her eyes glimmered faintly under the lights. “He trusts you. That means a lot.”
Adam nodded, unsure what to say. Every word felt dangerous. Every second stretched too long.
Then Emily looked away, up at the dark sky, as if she carried her own secret thoughts. “Sometimes I wonder,” she said softly, “if Richard trusts too easily.”
The words sank into Adam’s chest like a stone dropped into deep water. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Was that a warning? Or something else?
Before he could answer, the sound of laughter drifted from inside. Richard’s voice, warm and strong. Emily’s face shifted instantly, calm and polite again. She turned back to Adam and gave him the smallest smile, one that lingered just long enough to burn itself into his memory.
“Enjoy the evening,” she whispered. Then she walked back into the house, her dress swaying lightly as she disappeared.
Adam stayed frozen, gripping the railing, the night air sharp in his lungs. That smile stayed with him. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t loud, but it was more dangerous than anything else tonight.
Inside, the dinner moved on as if nothing had happened. Adam sat at the table again, speaking when spoken to, listening when needed. But his mind was elsewhere. Every word Emily had said replayed in his head. Every glance burned into him.
He caught her looking at him once more, across the table. Not for long, not enough for anyone else to notice. But Adam noticed. His heart pounded, his stomach twisted, and he forced himself to look away before Richard saw.
When the evening finally ended, Adam said his goodbyes politely. Richard clapped his shoulder. “You’ll do well here. I know it.”
Adam nodded, thankful for the praise but carrying a weight Richard could never imagine. He left the Johnson home that night with his thoughts on fire.
Sleep didn’t come easy. Adam lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his small apartment, replaying every second in the garden. Her voice. Her smile. Her words.
He told himself it was nothing. She was just being kind. Just polite. But deep down, he knew it was more. The way she looked at him wasn’t the way a wife looked at one of her husband’s employees. It was something sharper, heavier, harder to control.
By morning, Adam looked exhausted, but he forced himself to work. Reports, calls, endless numbers filled his hours, but none of it distracted him. Each time his phone buzzed, his chest leapt, hoping for something. though he didn’t know what.
He saw Emily again sooner than he expected. A company event, smaller than the dinner, but she was there, standing beside Richard like a queen beside her king. Adam kept his distance, but once, when Richard turned to greet someone else, Emily’s eyes found his.
This time, her smile was quick, almost hidden. But it was there. And it stayed with him long after the event was over.
Days turned into weeks, and Adam’s hunger grew. He told himself to fight it, to bury it, but the more he tried, the stronger it became. Emily didn’t say much. She didn’t have to. A glance. A small curve of her lips. A single word said softly in passing. That was enough to fuel Adam’s restless nights.
One evening, Richard asked Adam to drop off a file at his home. “Emily will be there. Just give it to her. I’ll be back later,” he said casually, without a second thought.
Adam’s chest tightened, but he agreed.
When he arrived, Emily opened the door herself. Her hair was loose, her dress simple but elegant, and her smile… the same smile that haunted him.
“You didn’t have to come all this way,” she said softly, taking the file.
“Mr. Johnson asked me to,” Adam replied, his voice tight.
She nodded, stepping aside. “Come in for a moment. At least let me offer you a drink. It’s the polite thing to do.”
Adam hesitated. He should have said no. He should have left. But instead, he stepped inside.
The house was quieter than usual. No guests. No Richard. Just Emily.
She poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed, just for a second. But it was enough to send a shock through his chest.
Adam tried to steady himself. “I should go,” he said quickly.
Emily tilted her head. “Always in a hurry.”
Her words were light, but her eyes… they weren’t. They lingered on him, slow, steady, as if daring him to stay.
Adam placed the glass down. His throat was dry, his body tense. He wanted to move, to run, but he couldn’t. The room felt too small, too warm.
Then Emily stepped closer. Just a little. Not enough to cross a line, but enough to make every nerve in Adam’s body burn.
“Tell me something, Adam,” she whispered, her voice low. “Do you always look at people the way you look at me?”
His chest tightened. His words caught in his throat. She had seen it. She had known all along.
Adam opened his mouth, searching for something, anything to say. But before he could, a sound broke the silence.
The front door opened.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.
Richard’s voice called out: “Emily? Adam? I didn’t expect you both here.”
- Writer
