Legal Affairs

Oliver

I'm tired. I tug my tie off, and collapse on our living room couch. My brain is usually mush by the end of the day. And today was no exception.

"Babe!" Mandy calls from her office. I can hear her shut her laptop. I gaze across the room at Mandy as she walks in, her hand casually lifting that signature Starbucks cup to her lips, the one she's never without. She's effortlessly stylish in that oversized sweater that swallows her frame but in a way that's still unbelievably inviting. It's like she's wrapped in one of those fancy cappuccino froths — warm, soft, but possibly out of reach.

Her hair spills over her shoulders in perfect waves, the kind you see in those hair commercials, with colors melting from a rich brunette to a sun-kissed blonde, like the California sun decided to play favorites. And those glasses, man, they frame her eyes in a way that's both intellectual and undeniably hip.

"Hey Mands," I sigh, smiling, as she plops down next to me. Her scent floods my senses, a mix of peach and nutmeg, a fragrance that's uniquely hers.

She plops a kiss on my lips. It's out of nowhere, and yet it's not unwelcome.

"How was work, Olv?" she asks, a bit distracted as her fingers scroll through her phone, checking messages.

"It was good," I murmur, leaning back. I look at the ceiling of our apartment, patterns of gray and white that resemble the clouds drifting through the sky. The light fixtures, like the sun peeking through, cast a golden glow on the walls. The decor is modern, all straight lines and clean surfaces.

"I've got a new case," I explain. "But it's pretty standard."

"That's awesome," Mandy says half mindly. It shouldn't bother I know she's going through a lot of shit at work too. I can hear her typing an email, her nails clicking on the keyboard.

She puts her phone down, her eyes finding mine. "What's new?"

I shake my head. "Nothing much. Just another day."

Mandy nods. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

There's a pregnant pause.

"Well," she finally says, "I'm gonna hit the shower." She kisses me on the cheek.

My mind is a jumble of thoughts as I hear the water running. What is this, really?

Mandy and I had met at University 6 years ago. We were inseparable since. Now, we've been together for over 3 years, and I still remember the day like it was yesterday.

We had met during our first week in college, at a party, and hit it off right away. I, the shy awkward kid who didn't know what he wanted to do with his life and she, a self-assured social butterfly who was destined to become the next CEO of some fashion Journalism company.

But, to be honest after three years our relationship has grown a bit stale, and I'm not quite sure what we are to each other. We're definitely more than friends, now a little less than lovers. We're best friends, yes, but we also sleep together.

Besides Mandy doesn't do labels.

It's kind of the relationship where you're comfortable in this weird limbo of being not-together but not-not together.

And while the sex is incredible, the emotional intimacy is not quite there. It's more of a physical release.

My phone lights up, half expecting that it's Noah. But I know she strictly doesn't call after 7 unless it's an emergency. Especially on Thursdays. She has therapy on Thursdays.

I pick up my phone. Just an amazon package and a missed call from Mom. I sigh.

I have an email from work, asking if I could take on some more freelance work.

I sigh and click reply.

It's been a while since Mandy and I have been intimate, and I wonder if she's seeing someone else. She wouldn't, would she?

My mind goes back to a year ago, when we'd had a brief separation. It was a rough time for both of us, and we'd managed to make it through, but the strain on our relationship was evident.

I click send.

I think about the time when I joined the firm That was two years ago. I don't think Noah ever liked me. And yet I'm her assitant.

My mind flashes back to the night I'd walked into her office.

I had been fresh out of college, and my first week in the firm had been a blur of activity.

I'd been tasked with the responsibility of working with Noah, a Junior associate, on a big case. I'd arrived at her office at exactly 8:30am. I remember her sitting there, in a black pencil skirt and white silk shirt. She looked every bit the powerful lawyer she was, with her sleek, black hair and penetrating brown eyes. But there are some moments when her eyes are more doe like not some darth vader vibe.

"Hi, I'm Oliver, the new associate," I'd introduced myself, holding out my hand.

She'd stood up and shook it firmly, her grip strong and confident. "Noah," she'd replied simply. "Have a seat."

She was direct and to the point, a quality I found attractive. We'd worked well together, and our partnership had flourished over the course of the case.

After that, our relationship had evolved into a friendship, nothing more. She doesn't do friends. Or relationships. I don't blame her with the shit that she goes through with her Mom and stuff.

She's gorgeous, but it's more than that. It's her strength, her determination, and her sense of dry humor. It's hard not to admire her.

I think about what I'd told her a few weeks ago, about how a little optimism could open doors you didn't even know existed.

"I don't think so," she'd scoffed. "Optimism is for the weak-minded. Realists know how to face reality."

But sometimes, the door to hope is hidden in plain sight.

I hear the water stop. Mandy steps out of the shower, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Hey babe, do you mind if I use your shampoo? I forgot to buy some last time I went shopping," she calls out.

"Of course," I reply.

She walks out and heads straight for our bedroom.

My phone buzzes, a welcome distraction from the staleness of the air.

"Hey Noah," I say, a smile creeping onto my lips. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she replies, her voice sounding distant. "I came back to the office and I locked my keys in my office room. Can you come down and help me get in?"

"Sure," I reply a little too enthusiasticly, "I'll be right there." I glance at her spare keys on the key hook.

"Thanks," she mutters.

I hang up the phone and head out into the cool night air.