The Space Between Us

A Respectful Distance

After my meeting with Ms. Whitmore, I found myself walking a little taller around the office not that anyone else seemed to notice, but something had shifted inside me It wasn't confidence exactly more like a cautious pride I had held my own in front of one of the most respected women in publishing It was a small victory, but it was mine

I didn't want to think too much about the interaction It was just work, after all. And yet, Ms. Whitmore's words kept replaying in my mind the way she had asked for my opinion, the way she had smiled when I gave it there had been something undeniably gratifying about that I knew I couldn't dwell on it I had a job to do, and I was determined to keep my head down and stay focused

The following week, my workload increase I was assigned more manuscripts, more notes to prepare, and more meetings to sit in on I kept myself busy, losing myself in the rhythm of editing and reviewing It helped to keep my mind off the fact that Whitmore's presence in the office seemed to linger even when she wasn't around

I rarely saw her after that meeting, but when I did, it was always from a distance she moved through the office with the same quiet authority, speaking in hushed tones with other editors and clients I respected her more than ever now, understanding how much weight she carried on her shoulders but I kept my interactions with her strictly professional, careful not to overstep any boundaries

One day, as I sat at my desk reviewing a new submission, Jenny approached me with a small smile on her face

"Emma, Ms. Whitmore wants to see you in her office," she said, her tone light but with an undertone of something I couldn't quite place

I felt my stomach tighten at the mention of her name. "Did she say why?"

Jenny shook her head. "No, but it's nothing serious, she probably just needs to go over something with you you're doing great, by the way everyone's been impressed with your work."

I smiled at the compliment, but it did little to calm my nerves I thanked Jenny and made my way to Ms. Whitmore's office, my heart beating faster with every step I reminded myself that this was just another meeting, that there was no reason to be anxious but somehow, knowing that I'd be sitting across from her again felt different this time

I knocked on her door, and when her voice called out for me to enter, I took a deep breath and stepped inside

Ms. Whitmore looked up from her desk, a thoughtful expression on her face as she set down the document she had been reading. "Emma," she said, gesturing for me to sit. "Come in."

I sat down, trying to keep my composure Ms. Whitmore's office was as pristine as ever, the bookshelves perfectly organized, the framed art on the walls tasteful and understated It was the kind of space that reflected her personality calm, controlled, and always one step ahead

"I wanted to discuss the manuscript we talked about last week," she began, her eyes studying me as she spoke. "The author responded well to the revisions we suggested, and I think we're moving in the right direction but there's one more thing I want your opinion on."

I nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Of course. What is it?"

Ms. Whitmore leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she considered her words. "The ending," she said finally. "I've been going back and forth on it the resolution feels a bit too tidy, too predictable I'm thinking of pushing the author to explore a more ambiguous conclusion, something that leaves the reader with a lingering sense of unease what do you think?"

I blinked, taken aback by the question Ms. Whitmore was asking for my input again, and this time it wasn't just about technical details it was about the story's core, its emotional impact I took a moment to gather my thoughts, knowing that my answer mattered

"I think that could work," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "The story has a lot of raw emotion, and an ambiguous ending might feel more authentic to the characters' journey It would also leave the readers thinking about it long after they've finished the book."

Ms. Whitmore smiled faintly, nodding as she listened. "That's exactly what I've been thinking," she said. "I'll talk to the author about it you have a good instinct for these things, Emma, don't underestimate that."

Her words hit me with unexpected force, and I found myself blushing despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Thank you," I managed to say, keeping my tone professional.

Whitmore glanced at her watch, then back at me. "Alright, I'll keep you updated on the revisions you can go for now I'll let Mr. Wilkins know if we need any further input from you."

I stood up, feeling both relieved and oddly energized by the conversation. "Thank you, Ms. Whitmore," I said

She nodded, already turning her attention back to the papers on her desk. "Keep up the good work, Emma."

I left her office with a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was pride, certainly, but something else too Ms. Whitmore was just doing her job, and I was just doing mine there was nothing more to it than that but as I returned to my desk and sat down to continue my work, I couldn't help but feel that there was a new dynamic between us something subtle, unspoken

And yet, I knew better than to dwell on it I had come here to learn, to grow as an editor, and that was where my focus needed to be whatever connection I felt to Ms. Whitmore, whatever sense of validation her words had given me, I couldn't let it distract me from my goals

So, I pushed the thoughts aside and got back to work