The Space Between Us

Unspoken Invitation

The rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard had become second nature by now, the routine work kept me grounded, even as my mind wandered occasionally I couldn't afford distractions not when I still felt like I was walking on eggshells in this office

My internship was a gift, one I couldn't waste, yet lately, something had shifted

Ms. Whitmore, with her commanding presence and effortless elegance, had been more present in my thoughts than ever, the way she moved, spoke everything about her seemed meticulously crafted, yet there were moments of softness that I couldn't ignore, like when she had unexpectedly told me to call her Rebecca when we were alone, It had taken me by surprise, and the informality of it had left a mark, lingering like a forbidden invitation

I tried to shake off the thought as I focused on the task at hand, I was drafting a proposal, something mundane yet necessary for one of the projects, when an email notification popped up on my screen. My heart jumped at the name: Ms. Whitmore

Why did she have this effect on me?

"Emma, I need the revised presentation by end of day, let me know if you need any additional resources," read the email, short, professional, and to the point just like her

As I stared at the message, I couldn't help but notice a slight undertone, It wasn't in the words themselves, but rather in the memory of how she had looked at me the last time we spoke, the brief touch of her hand on mine as she handed me some documents

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were beginning to cloud my focus, I needed to stay professional, I typed a quick response, confirming that I would deliver the presentation by the deadline

But even as I hit send, I couldn't help but wonder what it was like to know her beyond the walls of this office, what did she do when she wasn't leading meetings or reviewing reports? Who was she when she wasn't Ms. Whitmore, the powerful executive?

I had no right to ask those questions, after all, I was just an intern, yet that didn't stop the curiosity from growing inside me, and I hated that it was turning into something more than curiosity It was a feeling a dangerous, delicate feeling that I wasn't ready to confront yet

As the day drew to a close, I found myself lingering in the office, putting the final touches on the presentation, the rest of the team had trickled out, one by one, leaving me in the quiet glow of my computer screen I preferred working late when the office was empty; it allowed me to concentrate without distractions

I heard the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor outside my cubicle I didn't need to look up to know it was her, Ms. Whitmore had a distinct presence, even in her footsteps measured, confident, and deliberate, I pretended to be engrossed in my work, though every nerve in my body was aware of her proximity

She stopped at the entrance to my cubicle, her shadow casting a long silhouette on the wall I glanced up, doing my best to look calm and collected

"Still here, Emma?" she asked, her voice smooth and composed, though there was a hint of warmth that hadn't been there before

"Yes, just finishing up the presentation you requested," I replied, keeping my tone even

Ms. Whitmore stepped closer, leaning slightly against the edge of the cubicle wall, her presence filled the small space, and I suddenly felt like the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe she didn't say anything for a moment, simply watching me with those piercing eyes that seemed to see more than I wanted them to

"I appreciate your dedication," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "You've been doing excellent work here."

"Thank you, Ms. Whitmore," I said, feeling a warmth spread through me at her praise. "I'm just trying to make the most of this opportunity."

She smiled, but it wasn't just any smile, It was a slow, deliberate smile that made my pulse quicken, for a brief moment, I thought I saw something in her eyes something that wasn't quite professional, something that made my stomach flutter, and before I could analyze it, she straightened up and regained her usual composed demeanor

"Don't work too late," she said, her tone light but with a subtle undertone that I couldn't quite place. "We wouldn't want you burning out."

With that, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the floor once again I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, my mind raced, replaying the interaction over and over What had just happened? Was I reading too much into it, or was there something more behind her words?

I needed to stop this, I couldn't afford to let my imagination run wild, even as I tried to push the thoughts aside, I knew that she had somehow found her way under my skin, and I wasn't sure how to get her out

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to quiet my mind, every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face her smile, her eyes, the way she had looked at me, It was maddening, and I hated that I couldn't control it I tried to convince myself that it was nothing more than admiration for a successful woman, someone I looked up to in a professional sense

But deep down, I knew it was more than that.

It was the way she made me feel nervous, excited, curious, the way my heart sped up when she was near, and the way I couldn't stop thinking about her even when I was alone I was falling into dangerous territory, and I wasn't sure how to pull myself back

As I stared at the ceiling, a thought occurred to me what if she knew? What if she could sense the effect she had on me? The idea made my stomach twist in knots, I couldn't let that happen I needed to keep my feelings in check, stay professional, and focus on my work

But as much as I tried to convince myself of that, I knew it was easier said than done, yet every time I saw her, every time she smiled at me or said my name, I felt myself slipping further away from the safe distance I was trying to maintain.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up