The Boss & The Assistant - Rewritten Edition of "The Boss"

Chapter 42 - Lafayette

For the fashion show in Vienna, I ended up skipping it. Em suggested I take a mental health day, something I never did. Michael was suspicious and kept asking me what I was planning to do. Em had to snap at him and tell him that I was really taking a mental health day. So he backed down. Em stayed with me for the day. We didn't even have sex. We just stayed in the hotel room and watched TV. I managed to nap in the afternoon as well, mostly because I was sleeping on top of Em.

I knew Em felt bad for me after confessing to him, but I also knew he didn't pity me or look at me differently. He also didn't mention anything about it, knowing I would talk about it again if I wanted to. I did tell him I scheduled a virtual appointment with Cheryl. It was at ten o'clock at night for myself because of the time difference, but I preferred this because most everyone else had retired to bed to get enough sleep for the gala the next day. Em shut the door between the office of the suite and the bedroom so he wouldn't hear me. I hadn't had a session with Cheryl since before the trip.

"How has the trip been?" she asked.

"It's been pretty good," I said. "Busy, tiresome, but the cities have been beautiful. Things have gone successfully."

"That's good to hear," she said. "Was there something you wanted to talk about today?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess so," I said. "It's not exactly the easiest thing to talk about, though."

"That's okay. You can take your time," she said.

"Well...I..." I shook my head. "I'm having sex with my assistant." I closed my eyes. Why did I tell her that?

"Okay," she said. "How do you feel about that?"

I glanced at the door to the bedroom. Em was sleeping with a white noise machine. I could hear him snoring. He actually had very cute snores. "I feel...conflicted. I mean, the truth is that I have very deep feelings for Emerson. I consider him my best friend and I want to be with him, but I am his boss and I don't think he shares the same feelings. This all started as a casual, no-strings attached type of thing while traveling."

"Why do you think he doesn't share the same feelings?" she asked.

"I just don't think he does. Don't get me wrong, I know he cares about me. He referred to me as his best friend as well, but I can't imagine him finding something in my to love," I said.

"Why? Do you think you are unlovable?"

I gulped. "Maybe," I said, looking down at the keyboard. "I..." I couldn't talk about my love for Em and feeling unlovable without talking about my childhood trauma. "If I'm being honest, I wanted to meet with you to talk about something else. In my opinion, it's the root of all of my problems. It's why I hate myself and feel so much shame and guilt and why I feel unlovable and undeserving. It's just hard to talk about."

Cheryl nodded. "I am hear to listen," she said.

I looked at her through the screen and sighed. Then I told her everything. We talked about Father Jamison, Delphine, the abortion, my suicide attempt, my siblings, my mother, my father, until we got all the way back to why I felt Em couldn't love me. We had gone over our session but luckily I was her last client of the day, so she stayed with me.

"I think one of the key things for you is to forgive yourself," she said. "You carry a lot of guilt, but all of that stems from when you were a child. You have probably heard of this practice before, but I want you to write a letter to your childhood self. Think about what you would say to him. Then, change it so the letter is written to you right now."

I nodded. "I can try to do that," I said.

"Good. I recommend writing out the things you want to say to the people in your life, such as how you want to tell your parents about your childhood or how you want to confess your feelings to Em. If you even feel like doing so, you can send the letters."

I should've gone to bed, but I wanted to write my letter to myself. What questions would child me ask?

Did we stop liking boys? No, we learned to love boys. We struggle with not feeling bad about it, but we gained best friends who were boys that also liked boys, so we felt better.

Does Dad stop drinking? Yes.

Does Mom feel better? Eventually.

Does Father Jamison get caught? No, unfortunately, but he is dead.

Do you think he is in Hell? I don't believe in Hell, but I believe he is suffering.

If you don't believe in Hell, do you believe in Heaven? I'm not sure. I like to think that we just exist in a different type of way once we pass. Maybe we turn into a sensation or a feeling.

What did Delphine turn into? She is the hazy, golden glow from Christmas lights.

Is it our fault she is dead? No. Sometimes we still feel like it is, but it was Father Jamison's fault and no one else's.

Am I going to Hell for not telling someone about Father Jamison? No. He scared us into silence. He is the villain here, not us.

Are we close with our siblings? No, sadly, but we want to be closer.

Do we fall in love? Yes, but it is quite scary to be in love. He doesn't know I am in love with him yet.

Are you going to tell him? Maybe. I'm still unsure.

Do you think he loves you back? The more I think about it, the more I believe there is a chance his feelings could turn into love.

Are we still depressed? Yes, but we are doing better. We're better than we have been in a very, very long time.

Am I a bad person? No, you are a child with the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your childhood should have been spent having fun and making memories with your siblings. The only thing that should've scared you was the dark basement or the monsters under your bed. The only thing you should've worried about was if Santa was going to bring you gifts. You didn't deserve to feel violated and ashamed. You did not have the happiest childhood, but it's important to keep moving forward. You deserve happiness, even if it seems impossible, because it is entirely possible.

After writing the letter, I felt empowered in a way I had not felt before. I felt good. Child me forgave myself. I was just a kid. Father Jamison was an adult who threatened us into submission. We didn't know any better. I missed Delphine dearly. I missed what my family used to be. I mourned what my childhood and what my family could have been, but it was not worth dwelling on. I had to move past it. It was out of my control.

After I closed my laptop, I went into the bedroom and spooned behind Em, which caused him to stir in his sleep and barely wake up. "How did it go?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"It went well," I said. I kissed his cheek, making him smile. When I didn't stop kissing his cheek and neck, he turned to face me so I could kiss his lips. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Be quiet, heart. What's stopping you? I pulled away from Em and looked at him, at his gorgeous blue eyes as deep as the ocean. I wanted to drown in his eyes for the rest of my life. What was stopping me from telling him? Screw guilt. Screw shame. What was holding me back?

Of course something was holding me back. Who just goes and tells someone they are in love with them? Passionate declarations of love are for the movies. In real life, people are too scared to confess their feelings. Rejection is scary. The possibility of ruining a friendship is scary. What if he quit? What if he felt too weird that he never wanted to talk to me again? There was so much that could go wrong.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "We should go to sleep."

He nodded. "Sounds good. I'm sleepy."

I smiled softly. "Good night, Em."

"Good night, Faye."