Until Him

I have never been the type to toy with the idea of yes and no. I have never said no when I really wanted to say yes in my entire life. So the feeling was quite foreign to me.  It hit me all at once, bringing a chilling sensation like someone had poured a bucket of iced water on me.

The realization that it had been five days, six hours, and twenty-six minutes since our last encounter, the one that blurred every line between us, settled heavily in my chest. It was also the first time I wasn't looking forward to a weekend. As I felt that it was going to be a long one.

I meant what i said, at least for the most part. Where we were heading was going to mess up our work relationship. At the time, my career was my main priority, and still is. I've just learned to compartmentalize every aspect of my life. So I tucked those feelings away into neat little boxes so they don't spill over into the places where I need to stay sharp and in control.

As I strode upstairs, my heels clicking against the porcelain tiles, I greeted the first person I saw, my assistant. Nestled right outside my office. I casually asked her which subcontractors had confirmed work today, trying my very best to give nothing away about my true intetions. I listened attentively as she went through her list, pretending I was sending an email on my phone. By the time she was done, frustration had settled in my stomach like stone. He wouldn't be in today.

Still, I confirmed my attendance at the site and requested for transportation arrangements. At the very least, I could pass the time and keep myself occupied by interacting with the other workers. Anything to stop my mind from drifting back to him. The sound of his voice when he wanted me to pay attention to him, the way he had stepped into my space and how that simple action affected me, the confusion of him wanting to keep me brought to my emotions.

I imagined the weekend stretching ahead like an empty road, and for the first time in a long time, the silence felt louder than the noise.

As I settled into my office, removing my trench coat to hang it behind my chair, my desk phone rang. I had opted for a casual look, after all, it was a Friday. A pair of blue jeans, a plain silk white buttoned T-shirt, and some black suede ankle boots. I answered the phone and it was my boss summoning me to his office.

Before I could even take a seat, the questioning started.

"What's the news with the contractor building the top floor? I have not seen him this whole week," he enquired.

"He called me earlier this week, stating that he has a personal issue he needs to attend to. Requesting to be unavailable this week. He will be back on Monday," I responded. I felt so sick. That was the problem I was trying to avoid, compromising my integrity by lying to my boss in order to protect him. I didn't even know why I felt the need to do so. Was I in that deep already?

Our company is constructing a commercial complex consisting of twenty-three separate rooms that will be available for rental. There will be a secure underground parking, the ground floor making up fifteen of the twenty-three rooms, and the top floor consisting of eight.  Of which there would be a cinema, a private gym with a swimming pool, a night club, and so on. I'm the project manager for the construction of it. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm proud of myself. That I was able to take on such responsibilities at twenty-seven years old, while trying to get my Masters Degree in Construction Management.

However, as I walked beside my boss towards the site, my mind kept drifting back to him. Five days, seven hours and forty-three minutes. The silence felt heavier than I expected. I had told him no. I had set the boundary. So why did the absence feel like a quiet ache instead of relief?

We get to theconstruction site and everyone was doing their work as per schedule. The Aluminium windows were being fitted, the painting was progressing accordingly, and the plumbing works were almost done for the ground floor. We went to each section, noting down what was required moving forward in terms of workmanship and what was needed to progress as smoothly as possible. Most of the workers were satisfied, with the usual requests for a little higher payment here and there, but that was always expected. I knew how to tackle such issues. All in all, the site visit was going well.

Until him...

I felt him before I saw him. I don't know how, but my body just responded to his presence. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I stood rigid. My hands became sweaty. My boss continued talking to the workers, completely oblivious to the turmoil running inside me. I turned slowly, trying to spot him. He was by the entrance into the site, leaning against the gate, finishing off his cigarette. He took the last drag, then stomped on it, all the while keeping his eyes locked on me. He was always watching.

I turned back quickly to the conversation at hand, catching the last bit of what my boss was saying before I got distracted.

"No, Quinn will certainly sort that out for you," he said.

What? I had no idea what he was talking about. I felt him right behind me before he even greeted the small group we had formed.

"I thought you would be here on Monday. Did you sort out your issue?" my boss asked.

"My issue?" he replied in confusion.

"I told him why you couldn't be in this week. Regarding your personal problem?" I interjected, if only to protect myself too.

"Oh yeah, it turns out it will take some time to be resolved and I didn't want to inconvinience the company. So from now on I'll be more present," he responded, turning to face my boss for the first time. As if finally acknowledging his presence.

I excused mysef to talk to the people installing the ironmongery, to see what he had requested and what I had missed. After my third attempt at listening but failing, because someone wouldn't stop staring, I asked him to jot down what he needed. Lucky for me, my boss also called for us to head somewhere else. What a relief!

I escaped the site as quickly as my feet would carry me. He didn't attempt to stop as I passed him.

"You look beautiful princess," he casually stated.

I missed a step, pausing before I could find myself face first on the ground.

"My name is Quinn, but thank you," I replied, and I rushed off.

In the car as my boss drove, he kept emphasizing the importance of us being able to hand over the building in three months. After my third "Yes, sir" and him still going on about the deadline, I decided to tune him out for the rest of the journey until something new came up. As I settled back into my thoughts, it hit me that my lie wasn't far off. He had seen better days. He looked absolutely miserable. And I hadn't seen him smoke for some time now. Maybe something was really going on his personal life. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he had been rubbing them. His hair was disheveled, as if he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. He looked unkempt. Probably best to let him be.

Yet, even as I tried to convince myself of that, the image of him leaning against the gate, watching me with those tired but intense eyes, refused to leave my mind. The way he had softly said "princess" like he was stating something delicate. The way my body reacted despite everything I told myself. It was becoming harder to pretend I wasn't affected. The boundary I had set felt thinner than ever, and the weekend ahead suddenly felt longer and heavier than I wanted to admit.

To keep the rest of my day occupied,I responded to all my pending emails, planned the work schedule for the following week, and even entertained my assistant with her family drama. Apparently her uncle's wife wants a divorce because of infidelity on his part. And his uncle claims he doesn't believe in divorce, so he can't grant her wish. I thought my family was dysfunctional. At least her entire family is in support of the wife.

I ended my day at exactly five in the evening. I passed by the grocery store to get some groceries for the weekend and a few bottles of wine. The food? Not so much. I headed home blasting to Enya. She has that beautiful calming voice. And that's exactly what I needed at the moment. The soft, ethereal voice wrapped around me like a gentle shield as I drove through the familiar streets. For a few precious minutes, the world felt quiet. No intense eyes watching me. No confusing mix of warmth and dread pulling at my chest. Just Enya's voice and the hum of the engine.

But even as I tried to lose myself in the music, the frgraments of the day kept sipping through me. The call of"princess" that still lingered in my ears, the way my body had reacted before my mind would catch up. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and turned the volume a little louder.

Tonight, the wine would help. Tomorrow I would reset. At least that's what I kept telling myself.