Page 17 of Please, Forgive Me
It was always there—something unsaid, hanging between us like static in the air.
And as I turned back to the stack of papers, I couldn’t help but think that if we kept this up, something was bound to explode.
For now, though, I could still pretend everything was under control.
At least until the next time he walked through my door.
“What a day…” I muttered as I dropped into a chair in the company cafeteria beside Nancy.
I let out a sigh, letting my body sink for a moment before even thinking about food.
Nancy sat across from me, cutting into her salad with surgical precision. She was my complete opposite in almost every way.
Tall and slim, with jet-black hair always pulled into a flawless bun—never a strand out of place. Her brown eyes, framed by thin glasses, were sharp and perpetually alert. She worked in finance and had the kind of mind built for numbers, which fit perfectly with her methodical, systematic personality.
“Don’t even get me started,” Nancy replied without looking up from her plate. “We’re in the middle of the quarterlyclose, and apparently, people still haven’t figured out how to organize numbers properly. It’s maddening.”
I rolled my eyes in solidarity.
I knew her job demanded an almost obsessive level of precision, and this wasn’t the first time she’d complained about colleagues who couldn’t stick to protocol.
“Maddening is putting it lightly,” I said, picking up my fork. “Trust me, I know what it’s like when people only deliver half of what they’re supposed to. I’m drowning in paperwork, and Diego’s only making it worse.”
Nancy finally looked up, raising a brow with that ever-analytical expression of hers.
“You’re talking about him again,” she said flatly. “Don’t you think you’re letting this whole thing with Diego drain too much of your energy?”
“If only it were just my energy.” I sighed, poking at my food. “It’s like he goes out of his way to make everything harder. And at the same time…” I hesitated, debating whether I should keep going.
Nancy didn’t need much time to finish the thought for me—practical as ever.
“…at the same time, you can’t pull away because he challenges you in a way no one else does,” she said, direct as always.
Nancy never wasted words on emotional detours. It was one of the reasons our friendship worked. She grounded me when I started getting lost in my own head.
I gave her a sheepish smile, knowing she was right.
“Yeah. Exactly that,” I admitted, staring at my plate as if the answer might be hiding there. “I’ve thought about quitting, you know that. But at the same time… I feel like there’s still so much I could learn. And I can’t just walk away from a job because of him.”
Nancy shrugged, as if the solution were obvious.
“Then do what you came here to do. Learn what you need to, move on, and don’t get involved,” she said, turning her attention back to her salad. “Keep it professional. Don’t let that attraction complicate things more than they already are.”
I watched her, admiring how easily she separated personal from professional. I knew she was right—but living it was never that simple.
There was something between me and Diego, something that pulled me back every time I tried to put up a wall.
“You make it sound so easy,” I murmured with a humorless laugh.
Nancy actually smiled—rare for her.
“I never said it was easy,” she countered. “But since when has ‘easy’ ever been interesting?”
I rolled my eyes but laughed, because she was right again. She always was. Nancy was the voice of reason I needed, even when everything inside me was urging me in the opposite direction.
“You’re awfully wise today,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
She gave me the faintest smile before going back to her lunch.
