The Space Between Us

A Lingering Touch

The day after that brief conversation with Ms. Whitmore felt like a dream one of those strange dreams where everything looks familiar, but something's off, something you can't quite put your finger on

My desk felt smaller, the office colder the usual hum of background noise seemed to fade in and out, like a poorly tuned radio and all I could think about was the way she had looked at me yesterday, the way she had said my name

I tried to tell myself it was nothing just another polite exchange in the workplace she had been kind, professional nothing more, no matter how much I repeated that in my head, it didn't stop the memory from replaying over and over again the way her eyes lingered, the softness in her voice it was subtle, too subtle to mean anything. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that it did

"Emma?" A voice broke through my thoughts I looked up to see one of my coworkers, Jenna, standing next to my desk with a raised eyebrow, she was holding a stack of papers and looking at me like she had been standing there for a while. "You okay? You seem... distracted."

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, quickly straightening up in my chair. "Just... thinking."

Jenna handed me the papers with a knowing smile. "About work, I hope. We've got a lot to get through today."

"Right," I said, trying to focus on the documents in front of me, even as I scanned the lines of text, my mind kept wandering Jenna didn't seem to notice as she moved on to the next task, but I couldn't help feeling like I was barely holding it together

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of meetings and emails I managed to keep myself busy enough to push her out of my mind at least for a little while then, just before lunch, she appeared again

I was in the break room, waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing, when I heard the door open behind me I turned, and there she was Ms. Whitmore, in all her composed, graceful glory, she was wearing a dark green blouse today, the color making her eyes seem even bluer than usual I felt my breath catch in my throat, but I forced myself to stay calm It was just a coincidence she had every right to be here, just like I did

"Emma," she said, her voice smooth and casual, as if we were old friends. "How's your day going?"

I hesitated for a split second, my mind scrambling to come up with an answer that didn't sound completely ridiculous "It's going well, thank you. How about yours?"

She smiled a small, almost private smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Busy, as always. But that's nothing new."

I nodded, unsure of what else to say the coffee machine beeped, and I quickly turned to pour myself a cup, using the moment to compose myself, when I turned back around,she was standing closer too close, almost.... close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her perfume, something subtle and expensive that lingered in the air between us

"Do you have a moment?" she asked, her voice lower now, more intimate. "I'd like to discuss something with you."

"Of course," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's on your mind?"

She glanced around the empty break room before stepping even closer, her hand brushing lightly against mine as she reached for the coffee pot, the touch was so brief, so accidental, that I almost convinced myself it didn't happen. Almost

"I've noticed your work," she said, her tone soft but firm. "You're doing well. Very well."

"Thank you," I managed to say, though my heart was pounding in my chest. "I'm just trying to do my best."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "That's all any of us can do, I think you have potential, Emma a real potential."

The way she said my name made my skin tingle there was something in her voice, something I couldn't quite place was it just encouragement? Or was there more to it? My mind raced, trying to make sense of the signals she was sending, before I could overthink it any further, she stepped back, giving me space to breathe again

"I'd like to see more of what you can do," she said, her tone shifting back to its usual professional cadence. "Keep up the good work."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with a cup of coffee I no longer wanted I stared after her, trying to process what had just happened was it just a normal conversation between a superior and an intern? Or was there something else at play here, something beneath the surface that I wasn't seeing clearly?

I spent the rest of the day replaying the interaction in my mind, dissecting every word, every gesture, the way her hand had brushed against mine was that really just an accident? Or had it meant something more? And the way she had said my name, so softly, so deliberately was that just her being polite, or was there something else behind it?

By the time I left the office, I was more confused than ever I couldn't tell if I was overthinking everything or if there was really something going on between us, one thing was clear: Ms. Whitmore was starting to affect me in ways I hadn't anticipated.

 And that thought both excited and terrified me

As I walked home, the cool evening air did little to calm my racing mind I kept thinking about the way she had looked at me, the way her voice had softened when she spoke my name It was subtle, too subtle to be anything more than just professional kindness. Then again, maybe that was the point

Maybe Ms. Whitmore was playing a game a game I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be a part of, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't really have a choice, whatever was happening, it was already in motion, I was caught in the middle of it, whether I liked it or not

When I finally made it back to my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, exhausted from a day of overthinking I knew I needed to let it go, to stop obsessing over every little interaction, how could I, when every word, every glance, seemed to carry so much weight?

I closed my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, even in the quiet of my apartment, I couldn't escape the memory of her touch, the sound of her voice It was like she was everywhere, even when she wasn't there at all

And that was the scariest part of all