At work, I move faster than usual, slipping into my routine like it might quiet the unease weighing heavily on me.
Louis is not at the office I observed. He is not anywhere. I may be his secretary but even I don't know how that man works.
He's not one to strictly follow his schedules. Sometimes it's a wonder how he's grown the company into what it currently is.
My gaze keeps shifting to his office door, wondering when he would come in. Maybe I was just overthinking things earlier. I'd really like to be clear.
I continue with my work, filing, typing, organising my now husband's schedule.
Anything to keep my mind occupied.
Just then, an email comes in—one that requires my boss's attention. I stare at it for a second longer than necessary before deciding to deliver it myself.
Not because I have to… but because I want to.
I owe him a thank you.
For the ibuprofen, for taking me home safe, helping me take off my makeup, for last night in general.
