A Love To Last

c h a p t e r (18)

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Mona ended the call with a contented sigh, her words lingering in the air. "That's what a real man would do."

She gently placed her phone on the table, the screen now dark and silent. She glanced at the clock on her desk-3:30 PM. Her stomach grumbled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten lunch.

Her cubicle was a small island of personal touches amidst the corporate setting. The desk was cluttered with files, each one a testament to the endless tasks she had to complete. Her computer screen was lit, displaying a spreadsheet she had been working on, the cursor blinking patiently. Clipped to the side of her monitor were pictures that kept her grounded: one of her and her dad, smiling on a sunny day, and another of her and Ellery, their arms wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. Motivational quotes were scattered around, little reminders to keep pushing forward.

Her job was hectic, and boring. She only interacts with her colleagues in the break room, if she's not too busy to eat lunch.

"The pay is good, Mona." She reminded herself.

Mona took a deep breath and refocused on her work. Time seemed to fly as she typed away, the clatter of her keyboard blending into the background noise. As she typed out the last words, her stomach grumbled again, louder this time.

Mona pressed one hand on her grumbling gut, and with the other hand, she saved her work and ejected the USB drive from her computer. The small device contained an important file she needed to print. She stood up, feeling the familiar stiffness in her legs and shoulders from sitting too long. Stretching briefly, she made her way to the printer at the far end of the office.

The third floor was quiet, the hum of the air conditioner the only constant sound. As she walked, her footsteps echoed softly against the tiled floor. She reached the printer, a large, multifunctional machine that stood in a corner near the windows.

Mona inserted the USB drive into the printer's port and navigated through the touch screen menu to locate her file. She selected the document and adjusted the print settings, ensuring everything was correct. The machine whirred to life, and she stepped back, waiting as it began to print.

The first sheet emerged, warm to the touch, followed by another and another. Mona watched as the pages stacked neatly in the output tray, the rhythmic sound of the printer almost soothing. She glanced out the window, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the cityscape.

As the last page printed, she gathered the warm sheets, quickly scanning through them to ensure everything was in order. Satisfied, she removed the USB drive and tucked it into her pocket. With the printed documents in hand, she made her way to Mr Caldwell's office. His office was at the far end of the floor, a large room with a heavy wooden door.

She knocked and waited, hearing a gruff, "Come in," from inside. She pushed the door open and stepped into the office.

The air conditioning was on full blast, making the room feel almost chilly compared to the rest of the floor. The atmosphere was stark and professional, with dark wooden furniture and shelves lined with books and files. A large window behind the desk let in the afternoon light, casting a harsh glare on the polished surfaces.

Mr Caldwell was seated in a soft, high-backed office chair, peering at his computer screen through a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. His gray hair was neatly combed, and his stern face was etched with deep lines, a testament to years of experience and perhaps a bit of perpetual dissatisfaction. He wore a sky blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing thin, veined arms. His hands occasionally moved the mouse, navigating through whatever document he was engrossed in. He didn't look up as Mona approached his desk.