Chapter 9 A Place to Land
Thursday dragged.
By noon, my patience was already thin. By three, it was gone.
"Olivia."
I looked up from my screen to see Mr. Harlan, my direct supervisor, standing beside my desk with his usual unreadable expression. He had been with the company for years, efficient, distant, and impossible to read unless something had gone wrong.
"Yes?" I asked, straightening slightly.
"Did you send the revised report?"
"I did," I replied. "Yesterday morning. With the adjustments you asked for."
He nodded once. "I've seen it."
Something in his tone made my stomach tighten. "Is there a problem?"
He glanced briefly at my screen, then back at me. "It's… not very clear."
I blinked. "Not clear how?"
He shrugged lightly. "It just needs refinement. Nora will handle it."
For a second, I couldn't speak.
"Nora?" I repeated. "But I followed the structure you "
"Let's not go back and forth," he cut in. "We're short on time. Just make sure you're more aligned next time."
And then he walked away.
I stared at my screen, the words blurring together.
Nora appeared at my desk moments later. She was one of the senior analysts, sharp, respected, and one of the few people who'd been genuinely kind to me since I joined.
"That wasn't fair," she said quietly.
I exhaled slowly. "What did he say to you?"
"He forwarded the file and told me to 'clean it up,'" she replied. "I told him it was already solid."
"And?"
"He said maybe you're still adjusting."
The word landed like a slap.
"I've been here almost a year," I said under my breath.
"I know," she said quickly. "Everyone knows. This isn't on you."
I nodded, even though my chest felt tight. "It just gets tiring."
"I know," she said again. "Coffee later?"
"Maybe," I replied. "Thanks."
She squeezed my shoulder before walking away.
I tried to refocus, but my concentration was gone. Instead, my phone buzzed softly on the desk.
William: You okay?
I stared at the screen for a moment.
Me: Yeah. Just tired.
A pause.
William: That wasn't a "yeah."
Despite myself, I huffed a quiet laugh.
Me: Work was annoying.
William: Want to tell me about it?
I hesitated.
Me: Maybe later.
William: Okay. I'm here.
No pressure. No interrogation.
It helped more than he probably knew.
By the time I got home, the exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag by the door, and leaned back against it, closing my eyes. The apartment was quiet. The kind of quiet that usually soothed me. Tonight, it just made the thoughts louder.
The sink still had dishes from the night before. My throw pillows were uneven. The place wasn't dirty… just lived in.
My phone buzzed again.
William: Did you eat?
Me: Not yet.
William: That's not an answer I like.
I smiled faintly.
Me: I will.
William: I might stop by.
I froze.
Me: You don't have to.
William: I know.
A pause.
William: Do you want company?
I looked around my apartment, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The mess, my mood, the fact that he'd be seeing me like this.
Me: I'm not exactly great company tonight.
William: Then I'll just exist quietly.
My chest tightened.
Me: Okay.
William: I'll be there in twenty.
When the knock came, I hesitated before opening the door, smoothing my hair and glancing once more around the room.
Why am I nervous? I wondered. We're already together. Still, it was the first time he was stepping into my space.
William stood there in dark jeans and a soft grey shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He held a small paper bag in one hand.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," I replied, stepping aside.
He glanced around briefly. He was not judging, just observing before looking back at me. "I brought food. Hope that's okay."
"It's more than okay," I said. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to."
We settled onto the couch. He handed me a container, watching until I actually started eating.
After a few minutes, I sighed. "Today was rough."
He turned fully toward me. "Tell me."
I hesitated, then let it out. "My supervisor handed my work to someone else. Again. He made it sound like I was still 'adjusting.'"
"That's unfair," he said immediately.
"I know. But it still makes you doubt yourself."
He nodded slowly. "Do you like the job?"
"I like being independent," I said. "I like knowing I can take care of myself."
He was quiet for a moment, then said gently, "You know you don't have to struggle like that."
I looked at him.
"I can provide for you," he continued calmly. "I don't like seeing you drained."
My heart skipped, but not in the romantic way.
"I know," I said softly. "And I appreciate that. Truly. But I don't want to depend on anyone like that."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "I figured you'd say that."
"I need my own footing," I added. "Even if it's hard."
"I respect that," he said. "Then manage tomorrow. Friday's the last workday."
I smiled slightly. "That I can do."
"And Saturday," he added, "I'm taking you out."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Shopping. Dinner. No stress," he said.
I tilted my head. "Stores… they open on Saturdays?"
"Yes," he said, smiling.
"You want to take me shopping?" I asked, a little breathless. "You're so sweet. You even came over to check on me, and now this…"
He chuckled softly, reaching to brush a strand of hair from my face. "I like taking care of you."
The warmth in my chest was overwhelming. "You really are wonderful," I whispered.
He leaned back slightly. "Take it easy tomorrow, okay? Don't stress yourself. I love you."
"I love you too," I said, smiling.
He stood, grabbing his jacket. At the door, he paused, giving me one last look before pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
"Goodnight, Olivia."
"Goodnight, William."
After the door closed, I sank back onto the couch, my fingers brushing over the spot where he'd stood. My chest still fluttered, my heart still warm.
I smiled to myself. Gosh. I really do have a wonderful man.