Caught by the Boss ✔️

19

HENRY/HECTOR

Why?

I've asked myself the question a thousand times since I've come home and stared at my wall of metals. My conquests. Everything from my high school sport trophies to my business degrees and media acknowledgement is displayed on this wall.

In the beginning I had been eager to add more. To hoard all of these accomplishments. To be the best in everything. But now that I'm sitting on a pile of shiny trophies so high that I can no longer see the floor, I'm not happy.

This fucking state of the art home is still cold. Untouched in places, like I've been living here for a week and not years.

I saw a future with Laura. That's why it was so easy to get lost in the whirlwind of our adventure. Why I logged in so many times and pretended that I've never seen her before. From the very first day, I knew I wanted to take what we had beyond a world of pixels.

I thought I was so close. I had been treating Grace like a queen because I thought she was Laura. I thought I was building with her. And then the universe did its thing. It threw me off my pile of trophies and humbled me. I fucked up catastrophically, and I lost both Laura and Leila.

I've gone to see her, I've called and texted her, I sent her flowers, but it was this afternoon that I realized none of that would bring her back. I don't deserve to have her back. Not right now.

So I let go of the company, knowing the board would take care of it. I didn't feel deserving of the title. I've been spiraling down all year, abusing my power as a developer, getting distracted, risking the company by stepping on grey moral and legal grounds, blindsiding Leila.

Hurting Leila was what I regret the most. Because although I didn't see her as a lover at the very beginning, I saw her as a friend. She was an endearing little secretary. She deserved more respect. When Grace raised the alarms, I should have dealt with things more personally instead of following the protocol some third party wrote.

Stepping away from my title as CEO will do good for me. Maybe I can find my focus again. Find that fire that used to drive me when I was young and in college. Warm the coldness of this fucking expensive, massive, home.

I've been thinking about ways to fix things with Leila. A whole new project. Something she would love. A helmet that shows what your partner feels for you. The spike in heartbeat, the warmth in the chest. It will take me years to develop this new helmet. Although it's simple, I want to make it for her. So that maybe one day she'll wear it and feel what no apology could ever communicate. The love and admiration I have for the short secretary who filled my life with colors even as she wandered my halls wearing white, black, and grey clothes.

I'm now in my office, ruffling through the blueprints and the mess on my table. There are bags of salty chips—the same brand Leila got me, tossed everywhere.

My phone vibrates. It has been ringing all day as some reporters make it through, but I have no interest in answering their questions. I've said enough. The company will be fine, and I'll continue to be a rich, lonely bastard through my investments in real estate and stocks.

I glance at the screen.

Leila.

I nearly crush the phone in my hand when I pick it up.

"Leila?"

Did I finally lose it? Am I hallucinating?

"Come see me," she says.

I grab my keys and bolt out of the fucking door before she finishes the sentence.

"Is everything alright?" I ask as I run to my car. "Are reporters heckling you?

"No. Just get here."

She sounds cold, distant. I get no chance to ask anything else as she hangs up, but I have no complaints. I didn't imagine that she would call me. I thought I would remain blocked, because she wanted space. And she deserves to have it.

I acted on impulse when I ran to see her. Added fuel to the fire. But I had been so desperate. Willing to give up anything.

This is the woman of my dreams. The woman no AI could ever build. No pixels could ever create. She's better in real life than she is in The Machine. She doesn't need the voluptuous curves or the fake confidence, because she's perfect just how she is.

I thought I loved Laura, but she doesn't compare to Leila.

I drive anxiously, glaring at the miles between us as I wonder what she's going to say. I doubt it's forgiveness, but that's fine. I haven't earned it yet.

My phone rings again. This time from an unknown number. I don't risk missing Leila's call, so I put the call through.

"Hey, it's me. Thanks for picking up—"

Grace's voice comes through my speakers. She's sniffling, crying. She has tried to call me a few times. I guess she has turned to using new numbers.

"Call me again and you'll be sent to voicemail. But don't worry, my lawyer will follow up with you regarding your harassment." I hang up, anger surging in me

She fucking played me. She hurt Leila in a whole other way.

I suppose I should be sympathizing with Grace. Because just like her, I'm desperate for forgiveness. Willing to give anything for another chance. But I can't forgive that woman. Not after she violated her best friend's identity. After she played with my feelings and took my affection for granted.

The drive to Leila's house is endless, even as I break speeding laws. I look disheveled. I didn't care to change out of my jeans and white t-shirt. My hair is a mess and the smell of alcohol still clings to me, but I'm sure my eyes will show the only thing that matters.

I want her back. Need her back. And I'll give up anything, or take on anything, just to have her.