I grip the dumbbells firmly, the calluses on my palms a testament to the years I’ve dedicated to training. The strain is a familiar sensation, an old friend that accompanies me on this journey to physical perfection. As I execute each bicep curl, the veins in my arms swell, a network of determination coursing beneath my skin.

With every rep I do, I immerse myself even more in the rhythmic motion of the exercise. As I near the end of my set, I feel the burn building up in my biceps and I welcome it. It’s a sting I’ve gotten all but used to.

The final curl of the set feels like a triumph. I drop the dumbbells, and my muscles pulse with newfound vitality. Stripping off my shirt, I reveal the rewards of dedication. Beads of sweat glisten on my sculpted chest and arms, a testament to the intensity of my workout.

Two hours of exertion have burned away any lingering stress, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment. I glance at my smartwatch, and the numbers confirm my achievement: nearly five hundred calories burned.

Feeling a surge of satisfaction, I leave the gym and make my way to the bathroom. One of the advantages of living in a penthouse is that instead of going to public gyms, I have my own private gym, only a couple of rooms away from my bedroom. The accessibility comes in very handy, especially for someone as busy as I am.

As I step into the bathroom, I head straight for the shower, and with a quick twist of the knob, I turn it on. Taking a couple of steps back, I let the hot water cascade, creating a soothing symphony that echoes through the tiles.

Leaving the shower running, I head to my closet to pick out some clothes. Opting for comfort over style, I grab a crisp dark blue shirt and a pair of grey shorts before heading back to the shower.

Back in the bathroom, I start to undress, my mind focused on the satisfying embrace of the upcoming shower. Just as I’m about to shed my last article of clothing, my phone begins to ring. It disrupts the tranquility of the moment, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach for it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Roman,” says the voice on the line, her tone laced with a hint of surprise. “It’s Natalie...”

I can’t help but smile inwardly at the sound of her voice on the phone. If she’s calling me, that must mean she told David to fuck off. “What can I do for you, Natalie?”

Natalie hesitates for a moment, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. “Don’t act stupid, Roman... It was you who told me to call, remember?”

I nod to myself, confirming her statement. “You’re right. I did. I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

I lean against the bathroom counter, considering my words carefully. “I think you know very well what I want to talk about.”

There’s a brief pause on her end of the line as if she’s mulling over the idea. Finally, she speaks, her tone more cautious. “Alright. I’m listening.”

I smile, though she can’t see it. “Good. I’m sending you an address. Come over as soon as you can. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Do we?”

“Yes... I’ll be waiting.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to meet you tonight... I have a prior eng-”

I begin to hear her mention that she has other plans, but I don’t let her finish. “Natalie, if you don’t show up to the address I’m going to send, I’m never talking to you again.”

“...”

“I’ll take your silence as an affirmation that you’re coming... See you later, Natalie.”

Not wanting to give her time to refuse, I hang up and swiftly send Natalie my home address, the prospect of her visit both intriguing and unsettling. As I place my phone on the counter, I make my way to the shower, my thoughts slowly drifting towards my mother’s recent engagement.

The water from the showerhead flows gently, its warmth enveloping me as I step beneath its cascade. The sensations that follow are soothing, the rhythmic sound of water against tile walls creating a calming backdrop. Droplets slide down my skin, tracing invisible paths across my body as I reach for the soap.

In this tranquil moment, I find myself reflecting on my relationship with my mother. Our bond, or rather its absence, has become a defining facet of my life since my parents’ divorce. I still remember the last argument my parents had, my teenage ears catching every word exchanged in their heated dispute.

My mother’s voice, sharp with anger, resonated throughout the house as she hurled her infidelity at my father, her words a weapon against his stoic silence. The pain in her voice, the bitterness of her confession, had etched itself into my memory. From that moment on, I’d grown distant from her, unable to stomach her presence for more than a few minutes.

As the water continues to cascade over me, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of detachment from my mother’s engagement. Anger should be my primary emotion, and yet, it isn’t as consuming as I anticipated. Instead, it lingers in the background, gnawing at my insides because it isn’t stronger.

Perhaps it’s the years of emotional distance, or the scar left by her confession, but something within me prevents me from feeling the intense anger this situation warrants. It’s as though I’ve become adept at shielding myself from the turmoil, making my emotional reactions as controlled as my professional endeavors.

Maybe, it’s time I let this anger go. After all, it’s been ten years since I’ve gone back home. Ten years of making my mother pay for the damage she caused. How does that saying go again? Time heals all wounds...

“...”

Should I call her? If I did, what would I even say to her? Perhaps something like: Hello, mother, sorry for not calling in a while... How long has it been since we last talked? A year? Two?... By the way, I heard about your engagement, congratulations!

No, I can’t do that. She’d probably think I was high or something if I didn’t act cold. The last time I acted like a normal son, was probably back in my senior year in high school.

DING DONG!

The sound of my doorbell breaks me out of my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. I turn off the water, its warmth still lingering on my skin, and step out onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. I grab the towel, wrapping it around my waist, and rush to check my phone.

It’s been just over ten minutes since I talked to Natalie...

Her quick arrival catches me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to be at my doorstep so quickly. I ponder the logistics as I briskly towel off my wet skin. Does she live in the same building or something? Maybe she lives on the floor below? No, that’s too far-fetched; she probably resides in the vicinity.

With my unruly hair somewhat tamed and the towel securely wrapped around my waist, I start making my way to the front door. Each echoing step feels like a solitary note in the otherwise quiet symphony of my empty abode.

I’ll tell her to wait in the living room as I finish drying myself and change...

The scent of steam and soap still lingers around me as I reach for the doorknob. The door creaks open, and my expectations dissolve into thin air. Instead of Natalie, I’m met with Veronica’s wide-eyed gaze, framed by the entranceway like an unexpected cameo in the unfolding drama of my life.

The initial emotion that courses through me is one of profound surprise, like a character in a movie realizing they’ve stepped onto the wrong set. My internal thoughts race, forming a turbulent whirlwind of curiosity and confusion.

Why is Veronica in my house?

My bewilderment is mirrored in her eyes, which seem larger than usual, like twin windows into a world of unexpected twists. Her cheeks are a tad paler than their usual rosy hue, betraying a sense of unease. It’s like seeing a character from one storyline unexpectedly appear in another, and both of us are caught off guard by this unexpected collision.

“Veronica!?”

“...”

Why isn’t she responding? Is something wrong? Is she sick? “You look a little pale... Are you okay?”

“Oh, me?! Uh... I’m fine.” She looks shocked... What is she looking at? Wait, is she looking at my tattoos?

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I feel a wave of unease wash over me as I realize her gaze is stuck on my tattoos. It’s like she’s stumbled upon a hidden chapter of my life, and I’m momentarily exposed. My inked skin, which tells a story only I understand, is now open to her scrutiny.

I clear my throat, feeling a need to break the peculiar silence that’s settled between us. “My bad,” I mutter, realizing that standing here dripping wet in a towel isn’t the most welcoming sight. “Come in, please. Wait for me in the living room, I’ll be right with you.”

“Oh, okay...”

As I hustle back to my room, my mind starts swirling like a whirlpool. Why the fuck is she here? We’re not particularly close, and her sudden appearance at my door feels like a curveball on an already unpredictable day.

With haste, I change into the clothes I laid out, my mind spinning a web of hypotheses. Maybe she needs something work-related. Or perhaps she’s here to discuss some matter about the merger. Or could it be something entirely unrelated to business? My curiosity grows.

By the time I return to the living room, the atmosphere has shifted from that initial shock to one of restrained tension. I can sense it in the way Veronica fidgets slightly, her eyes darting around the room as if she’s not entirely comfortable being here.

I can’t help but wonder what’s brought her to my doorstep. There’s an undercurrent of unease in her presence, something that doesn’t quite add up. But before I can delve into this mystery, I decide to break the ice.

“Tell me,” I begin, casually leaning against a nearby wall. “What do you think about my humble abode?”

“Humble, you say?”

I shrug. “Haven’t you been in my apartment before?”

My assistant shakes her head and chuckles. I can sense a hint of nervousness in her voice. “I’ve never actually been inside your home. I usually wait in the lobby when I come to pick you up...”

“I see...”

Well, this just got awkward...

I lean off the wall, hoping to shake off my anxiety, and move to the other side of the couch she’s sitting on. With an attempt at a relaxed tone, I ask Veronica the obvious question that’s been on my mind since she showed up unannounced. “So, what brings you here, Veronica?”

Veronica’s gaze briefly meets mine, and for a moment, there’s something in her expression, a blush perhaps, before she quickly redirects her attention toward the window. It’s a subtle, almost imperceptible shift, but it’s enough to make me wonder if there’s more to her visit than meets the eye.

Clearing her throat, she finally responds, her voice carrying a hint of hesitancy. “I just wanted to check up on you, sir. You seemed... tense, earlier today during the meeting. You left really abruptly...”

Her words hang in the air, and I’m momentarily taken aback. Veronica and I have known each other for a couple of years now, and in all that time, she’s never done something like this. The surprise courses through me, and as I consider the possibilities, my mind races.

Could it be that Veronica has a crush on me? The thought flits through my mind, a stray ember igniting in the recesses of my thoughts. But then again, maybe it’s not that. Perhaps she’s just a genuinely caring person, one who values our friendship enough to ensure I’m alright when I seem off-kilter.

After all, the past two years of working side by side could very well have cultivated a deeper bond than I initially realized. I’ve always been guarded, and slow to let people in, but Veronica has been a constant presence, a steadying influence amid the chaos of my career.

As I weigh the possibilities, I realize that no matter the reason behind her visit, there’s a newfound appreciation for her concern. It’s not something I’m accustomed to, and yet, I find myself oddly comforted by it. Aside from David, I’d say she’s the only other person I’d consider a friend. Someone I can consistently depend on to watch my back. For me, especially in the situation I find myself in, friends are a rare commodity. At the very least, I should cherish the few relationships that are in my life, that matter.

“Thanks for coming, Veronica. I appreciate that you’re checking up on me!”

“Oh, yeah... Don’t worry about it, sir.”

I chuckle. “Enough with the ‘sir’, Veronica. You can call me by my first name, and please feel free to speak casually with me... We’re not strangers after all...”

“Okay...”

Geez... Why is she so awkward? She’s making me feel awkward...

I clear my throat, leaning slightly forward as I feel the weight of what I’m about to say. Veronica’s gaze meets mine again, and there’s something in her eyes that tugs at me, but I push the sensation aside for now.

“Seeing that you’re here, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” I begin, my tone more serious than before.

Veronica’s expression remains attentive, waiting for me to continue.

With a deep breath, I unveil the news. “I’ve decided to promote you to a managing position in the marketing team, Veronica.”

Her eyes widen with surprise, and for a moment, I can see the disbelief and elation warring within her. As I delve into the details, explaining the salary increase and the array of benefits that will accompany this promotion, including a move to the third floor, Veronica’s smile broadens.

But then, as I continue listing the perks, I notice a shift in her demeanor. The once bright smile begins to fade, replaced by a subtle sadness that she can’t quite conceal.

Fuck... Did I do something wrong?

“Is everything alright, Veronica?”

She offers a small, somewhat wistful shrug. “I mean, I’m beyond grateful for this promotion, s- I mean Roman... It’s just... I’ll miss working right by your side.”

Her words, though sincere, send a pang of unexpected guilt through me. Veronica has been a steadfast presence in my life, a pillar of support. Her dedication has been unwavering, and it’s not lost on me how instrumental she’s been to the company’s growth... To my growth...

However now, as I announce her well-deserved promotion, I realize it marks the beginning of a significant change in our dynamic. The end of an era...

Leaning back on the couch, I consider her words carefully. “You know, Veronica, you’ll always be a crucial part of the team, even if you’re not right next to me. And if you ever need anything, whether it’s advice, assistance, or just a chat, my door is always open... I know I’m your boss, but I hope that you see me as something more... We’ve been working together for over two years, seeing each other on a daily basis... I think it’d be strange if we still weren’t friends by this point, don’t you think?”

“...”

There it is, again! Why is she looking at me like that? Maybe I said something wrong... Something that made her feel uncomfortable. Perhaps she doesn’t see me as a friend despite the time we’ve worked together. Maybe she just sees me as her boss and nothing more.

AWKWARD SILENCE.

Fuck my life, that must be it! Of course, she doesn’t see me as a friend... When she first became my assistant I was a complete fucking prick to her. Who in their right mind would become friends with a douche like me?!

“On second thought,” I say, hoping to drown out the suffocating silence that’s in the air. “Please don’t answer that. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. It wasn’t my intention t-”

Before I can finish, Veronica bursts into laughter, her melodious voice filling the room. It catches me so off guard that I can’t help but sit there, momentarily stunned. I watch, wide-eyed, as she laughs with such abandon that it brings tears to her eyes. The sound is like a rare and beautiful melody that I’ve never had the privilege of hearing before. Her laughter dances through the air, making the room feel lighter, warmer, and more alive than it ever has.

I’m left in awe, my usual composed and guarded demeanor momentarily forgotten. There’s something about the rawness and authenticity of her laughter that touches me deep within. It’s not just the sound; it’s the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, the way her head tilts back slightly, and the way her whole face lights up with genuine joy. It’s as if a veil has been lifted, revealing a side of Veronica I never knew existed.

As her laughter gradually subsides, I find myself smiling in response. It’s not the polite, professional smile I usually wear, but a genuine one that spreads from my lips to my eyes. “You alright there, Veronica?

Veronica nods, her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and delight. She reaches for a tissue to dab away the tears of laughter that glisten in her eyes. I can tell that she’s still a bit surprised by her own outburst. “Yes, I’m fine...”

With a curious tilt of my head, I venture further into this uncharted territory. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen you laugh like that before. What brought that on?”

Veronica’s laughter may have faded, but her smile remains, now tinged with a vulnerability I’ve never witnessed. “Well, Roman, it’s just... I guess I’ve always thought that you didn’t really like me.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her confession, though I’m genuinely touched by her honesty. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Veronica shrugs, her gaze locking onto mine. “You’re not the easiest person to read, Roman. You keep your distance, and you’re not exactly known for your small talk. Plus, you’ve got this ‘untouchable’ aura around you.”

“Do I?”

“God, yes!”

I nod, understanding her perspective. “I see... Well, now you know that I’m actually quite fond of you. I think you have a lot of fucking talent, and it’d be a waste to have you waste it on me.”

Veronica’s smile widens, and the vulnerability in her eyes gives way to a sense of relief. “Don’t say that... I liked being your assistant, even though you were cold sometimes...”

“Sometimes?”

“Most of the time,” Veronica admits, chuckling.

“Yeah... Sounds about right...”

The room settles into a comfortable silence, and I become acutely aware of Veronica’s intense gaze upon me. Her eyes carry a hint of wonder, and I can’t help but feel a tad self-conscious under her scrutiny.

I scratch the back of my head, attempting to ease the subtle tension that has wrapped around us. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A gentle, almost bashful smile tugs at Veronica’s lips, and her eyes maintain their unwavering focus on me. “It’s just... seeing you like this, with your hair down and dressed casually. It’s...unexpected... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear normal clothes.”

“I don’t wear suits all the time, you know...”

“I know, I know...”

I arch an eyebrow, a small grin forming on my face. “So, what’s your verdict?”

“On what?”

“This version of me...”

Veronica rests her chin on her hand, her gaze still firmly locked on me. “I like it,” she confesses with a pensive nod. “You look... different. Younger, even. There’s a certain youthful charm about you.”

My chuckle fills the room, and I find myself somewhat at a loss for words in the face of such an unforeseen compliment. “Well, I guess I should thank you for making me feel rejuvenated.”

But Veronica isn’t finished yet. Her gaze drifts lower, her focus now on my arms. I follow her gaze and realize that she’s looking at the ink that adorns my skin. My tattoos aren’t numerous, but they’re undoubtedly not something you’d expect to see on a person like me. The CEO of a company...

With an amused glint in her eyes, Veronica smiles. “Tattoos, huh? I never pegged you as someone who’d have those...”

I laugh, feeling more at ease in her presence. “Yeah, I don’t have a ton of them... But I guess you’re right. On the outside, I do fit the clean-cut, corporate image, don’t I?”

“Yes you do,” Veronica nods knowingly. “But I like this side of you.”

A brief, comfortable silence envelops us, the weight of unspoken understanding lingering in the air. I can’t help but find myself staring into her eyes. It’s remarkable how this unexpected encounter has led to a more genuine and open conversation than I’ve had with most people in a long time... I can’t even recall the last time I experienced something remotely close to this...

Maybe there’s something worth exploring with Veronica... Now that I think about it, I don’t think there’s another woman on this planet that I get along with besides her...

Amidst the calm silence that has settled between us, an unexpected vibration jolts me back to reality. I glance at my phone and realize that someone is calling me. “Hello?”

Natalie’s voice flows through the phone’s speaker, crisp and clear. “Hey, it’s me. I’m downstairs in the lobby. Mind coming down to get me?”