The Promotion

Chapter Eleven

After the argument with Calum, he barely spoke to me. We'd had fights before—plenty of them—but something about last night felt different. He hadn't just stormed out; he'd shut down completely. There was a coldness to him that lingered long after the door had slammed.

Morning came quietly. Too quietly.

Calum woke up, ate his breakfast without a word, and left the house like it was any other day. Like nothing had happened. I lay there staring at the ceiling, guilt pressing heavily on my chest. What I'd done the night before replayed in my mind, over and over. Regret seeped into every thought, making it hard to breathe.

I needed to get it off my chest.

On the drive to work, before I could overthink it, I dialled Sarah's number.

"Hey, Louisa," she answered after just two rings.

"Hey," I said. "How are you? How's your mum?"

"I'm good. Mum's about the same—still sore, but managing."

There was a pause. I gripped the steering wheel tighter. My chest felt tight, like the words were stuck behind my ribs.

"Are you on your way to work?" Sarah asked, filling the silence.

"Yeah... I am." I swallowed. "Sarah, I did something really stupid."

"What?" Her tone sharpened immediately. "What happened?"

"Well... Calum and I had another argument—"

"Ugh. What else is new?" she interrupted.

"And after he left," I continued, forcing the words out, "I couldn't stop thinking about Alexander."

There was a pause on the line.

"I'm not sure I understand," Sarah said cautiously.

"I... I let my thoughts get the better of me." My voice dropped. "That's all I'm saying."

Another pause. Then—

"Oh." Her voice changed. "Oh. Oh."

I winced.

"You're telling me you were thinking about Alexander like that?" she asked.

"Yes," I murmured. Saying it aloud made the guilt hit harder.

Then, to my horror, Sarah laughed.

"Oh my God," she said between breaths. "Louisa... do you know what that means?"

"No," I snapped. "And I don't want to."

"It means," she said, "that somewhere in that head of yours... you like him."

My stomach dropped.

"I'm at work," I said quickly, pulling into the car park. "I don't want to hear this. We'll talk later."

"Alright," she teased. "But don't think about Alexander too much."

I hung up before she could say another word.

⸻

When I entered the main lobby, there were faces I didn't recognise—new staff, perhaps. I kept my head down, feeling suddenly exposed. Everything felt too loud, too busy.

When I reached my office, I stopped dead.

Hanging neatly on a rail was a dress.

I stepped closer, drawn to it. It was a long black maxi dress, elegant and dramatic. Floral embroidery traced along one side of the bodice and flowed into the skirt. The neckline dipped gracefully, balanced by long sleeves, and a subtle slit ran up the thigh. When I turned it around, my breath caught.