Page 48 of The Only Time

I open the door and there’s silence. Mia has been distant ever since I pushed her away Saturday night. She didn’t come to my bedroom last night, even though Layla was gone. I can’t stop thinking about her which makes me miserable. And I’m angry that I’m the reason I’m miserable. I got spooked that night from my feelings and made a rash decision.

Now I have to feel her in my home without being able to touch her or even talk to her.

I go straight to the bourbon and pour myself a glass, not even making it to my office. I fall onto the chair in my living room andwork my tie open as I take a sip of the auburn liquid, hoping it relieves the tension that’s building.

“Long day?” Mia’s voice startles me from behind.

I crane my neck to see her leaning against the large white column. I shrug my shoulders, not sure how to answer or maybe unwilling to. Either way she takes the hint.

She laughs sarcastically. “Whatever. Just thought I’d ask.”

She begins to walk away, and I start to panic. “Yes, it was a long day.”

When I no longer hear her walking away, a soothing feeling takes over my body. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I start to talk. “I have an acquisition that I’m working on. Not only did I hear that people were criticizing my work ethic for not pulling twelve hour days while I was recovering, but I just found out that we’re going to have to lay a lot more people off in this company than I had originally anticipated.”

She appears in front of me, silent at first as she pulls out the ottoman and sits between my legs. “I can’t believe they think you need to work twelve-hour days in general, but to expect it out of you when you clearly were injured and took your sick days. That’s ridiculous.”

Rather than look at her, I keep my eyes focused on the glass in my hand resting on my thigh. “The other men in the office probably would’ve done it. It’s how you make the company money.”

“That’s bullshit. I run a successful company, and we treat our employees with respect. If you use your time off, you are entitled to actually take the time off. Life is too short to be married to your job.”

I don’t know what to say back to that. If she’s right, then what the hell am I doing at this company?

I shake my head. That’s ridiculous. I’m not leaving the company.

“How many more people do you have to lay off?” she asks, resting her elbows on her knees. Something I notice from the corner of my eye. I risk a glance at her and see concern in her eyes.

“About one hundred more people.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

I nod my head. “That’s a lot of families I could be destroying.”

“That must be a really tough part of the job. I’m sure most people feel this way when it comes to these layoffs.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Nobody else gives a fuck about the people they layoff. I’m looked down upon for caring. I’ve been told it’s what makes me weaker than my other colleagues.”

“That’s gross. I think it’s the other way around.”

That makes me look back up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Only a weak man with a big ego would be unaffected by ruining lives. Someone like you, someone who cares about those people, that’s a strong man.”

I don’t know what to say back to that. She thinks I’m strong. I care way more about that than I should. I’m not sure how long we look at each other, but it feels like she is looking into my soul. A loud sound coming from my stomach pulls us out of the moment.

She looks at her watch. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

I shake my head back and forth. “I didn’t really have time to. I skipped lunch as well.”

She sighs. “Eric, it’s eight thirty. Come on, I’ll warm something up.”

When we get into the kitchen, she pulls out a plate that looks like it was already ready for me and pops it into the microwave.

She stands in front of the microwave while the food she prepared for me, despite me being a complete dick, warms up.

My body moves to her like we’re magnets that are being pulled together. I stand right behind her, our bodies just barely touching then whisper in her ear. “Thank you for dinner.”

The goosebumps on her skin are evidence that, in spite of my pushing her away, her body still reacts to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t not touch her. I pull her hair off her neck and kiss her just above where her shoulder and neck meet.

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