A LAPSE

REINA

“… Ethan left his room door open this morning. I didn’t have to knock the door down. That was fast.” Thelma beams, loading some clothes into the washing machine while I stand beside her.

I shrug.

“I’m just happy he’s fine.”

“I’m thrilled, girl. Been praying for the day that little boy gains a little spark in his eyes. I know why he likes you. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a ghost of a smile on your face.” Thelma tells me. I can’t help it. My lips curl in a smile.

She jams her hands together, “There it is!”

We both chuckle. There’s a long stretch of silence before I finally blurt out the question that’s been on my chest, “Did you have to… did you have to take your uniform from his room?”

Thelma doesn’t look up at me. Her brows draw together, her expression a mirror of deep concentration as she sorts and loads more clothes in the machine.

But she answers, “Whose room?”

I scoff. “Who else? Alan.”

Thelma gasps, jerking up straight at once. She starts to glance around like she’s in search of something. Feeling useless in a way, I spin around too, in search of whatever she’s looking for. She suddenly stops, looks back at me.

“Reina! It’s ‘boss’ to you, and everyone else here!” She whisper-yells. It clicks then.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” My fingers run through my hair awkwardly.

“It’s okay.” Thelma makes a show of waving it off. She looks around again, then back at me. “No one caught you saying that. But you have to be careful from now on.”

I nod.

“Wait.” She moves closer to me, realization creeping into her features. “The boss… he asked you to come take your uniform from his room?”

“Yeah? Please tell me he told you that too?” I sound desperate. I need Thelma to tell me he told her same thing so I can believe I’m delusional in peace.

She shakes her head slowly, her expression closed off now. “That’s strange.”

“Right?”

*

By 1pm, I’m trudging my feet towards Alan’s room. Ethan isn’t in the mood to play today. I ended up leaving his room after he ignored me for one full hour. Left him with a small peck on his forehead, even if he wiped it off.

My heart is almost beating out of my chest with each step I take. I lick my lips and stop by one of the mirrors attached to the wall. What? I mean, just in case… My hair is in place. Neat, slicked up in a pony. My lips are plumper and pinker. I used Thelma’s lip balm earlier. I’m wearing a tank top and slightly washed out jeans. I wipe at the jeans with my palms like the gesture would make them any better.

I take a deep breath, and continue walking towards his room. My fists connect with his door and I step back, awaiting a response. I knock again when I get no response the first time.

I’m about to knock again when the door pulls open. My head immediately snaps up to his face and I forget how to breathe. Alan looks annoyed but still ruggedly beautiful. His hair is disheveled, and his tie is half done, but he would still win a pageant if he steps out like this.

“This isn’t noon.” His calm baritone drags me out of my thoughts. I somehow trip, catching the side of the door as I stutter,

“Oh—I… yeah, uh, sorry I was busy.”

Shit, I’m such a fool.

If he finds me amusing, he doesn’t show it. Alan steps aside and lets me enter. I step into the air conditioned, gigantic room, my breath leaving me for a second.

It’s empty too, but it’s so big… it’s literally ten times my room at home. I can’t help my lips curling up a little. I’ll be successful one day and I know it. I’ll have this big house and cars and…

“Reina.” A loud voice jilts my thoughts.

“Oh!” I gasp, spinning around with the doors of light. He looks genuinely worried.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm. Yeah.”

He spares me one last glance before heading over to his bed. A box lies at the far corner of the bed, black with an inscription on it which reads ‘Inker Collectives’. He picks it up. Woah, that’s my fit?

Alan answers my question when he stops in front of me and hands me the box. I take it with shaky hands.

“I should have never called you here. It’s not professional and I know it.”

I nod, then smile to ease up the tension that’s already rising in the room. “Yeah but it’s okay—”

“Shhhh.” He interrupts. My eyes widen. He continues, “You don’t always need a response, belle. I would like to finish.”

I nod like a fish.

“The first day you were here…”

My breathing ceases.

“I did some things I’m not proud of. I’m not usually like that. I’ve never touched my employees inappropriately in anyway, until you. It meant absolutely nothing, just a lapse of judgement from my end. And it’ll never happen again.

The sound of my heart shattering in pieces is deafening. Okay, maybe that’s too much, but there’s a pang in my chest. Maybe I was hoping he feels the same way I feel about him.

Whenever we’re together, it’s simply electrifying. Even if his hands aren’t on me, his voice and presence always send the most pleasurable thrill down my spine. It’s the most insane sexual connection I’ve ever felt, and maybe it’s just lust… but I can’t help myself.

Whatever. This isn’t right anyway.

I nod, then swallow. “I understand. I mean anyone can touch my pussy and call it a mistake.”

I see surprise flash in his orbs for a second. I don’t even know why I said that.

We stand in silence for quite a while. It takes all my balls to move closer to him, watching his jaw clench. I reach for his tie and start to fix it. He lets me.

“I’m just saying,” my voice drops to almost a whisper, “I’m not that kind of girl. It wasn’t right too, you should never touch me like that again, or…”

“Or?” His tone is suddenly brash. A small shiver caresses my skin. I lift my eyes to meet his.

“I don’t know what I’d do.”

He lets out a jagged breath, his voice hoarse as he tells me, “You need to be fucking stricter than that, Belle.”

I smile. Bright.

“I’m trying.”

Then I pull back. “All done. You look amazing.”

He doesn’t say anything. I frown.

“Say thank you.”

He raises a brow, then looks away… not before I catch the semblance of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you.” He mumbles. I feel my cheeks hurt from my smile. My gaze drifts upward and behind him, just over his head, plastered do the wall us a picture of a beautiful woman.

She looks like she could be in her mid twenties, has a small smile on her face.

I lower my gaze, meeting Alan’s fierce gaze. They’d never shifted from mine.

I hold the box tighter. “Who’s she?”

“Rose. Ethan’s mother, my late wife.”

“Oh.” I say, peering at the picture again. “She’s beautiful. Where… where’s she? I mean, if you don’t mind.”

He takes a while. His voice is gruff even he answers, “Dead. You can leave now.”

My heart breaks for Ethan all over again. Then for him. His eyes are so sad, it’s the most expressive I’ve ever seen them.

“I’m so sorry.”

He turns away, heading towards his closet.

“Shut the door behind you.”