Echoes of Three Souls

Chapter 2: Morning Routines and Restless Nights

Maeve POV

**Beep. Beep. Beep.**

6 a.m. came fast, especially after a night of restless tossing and turning. A good night's sleep was a luxury I rarely experienced. I stretched out, my limbs heavy and reluctant to move, a small whine escaping my lips. The warmth of my bed—layers of soft, comforting blankets—pulled at me, begging me to stay. But I had to get up. I clung to my morning routine like a lifeline, convincing myself it kept me disciplined. Without it, I might never leave the sanctuary of my bed.

As my feet hit the floor, Archie was already there, waiting. My son—or at least, he might as well have been. Sure, he was a cat, but the love I had for him was no less than if he were my own flesh and blood. I'd been a victim of the cat distribution system when it came to Archie. One evening, while taking out the trash, I'd heard a soft cry. It was faint, but unmistakably the sound of a kitten. I found him behind the dumpster, a tiny, fluffy grey kitten with barely-opened eyes, all alone. I couldn't just leave him there.

I'd wrapped him in a warm blanket and called the vet, who confirmed what I already feared—he was only a few weeks old, still needing to be bottle-fed. From that moment, we were bonded. How could I not fall in love with the cutest little creature I'd ever seen? Archie was mine, and I was his.

He wove through my legs now, his familiar morning chatter filling the room.

"Meow. Meow. Meow."

"Well, good morning to you, too, my sweet boy. How'd you sleep last night, little prince?"

"Meow."

"I know, I know, you're hungry. Give me a minute to get myself together, and I'll feed you before I go."

After giving Archie a few gentle scratches behind his ears, I headed to the bathroom. The usual routine: brush my teeth, wash my face, and by the time I was done, the coffee maker hummed softly in the kitchen. Next came my morning meditation and yoga. Both were therapist-prescribed. The yoga helped with the constant tension in my muscles, a side effect of living with chronic anxiety. But the meditation? That was harder. I hit play on the guided session, letting the calm, soothing voice wash over me.

"Take a deep breath in for four seconds, hold for seven, and exhale for eight. Good. Now, imagine your happy place."

My happy place? That was easy—it was the bed I'd just dragged myself out of. *Of course* my happy place was there. Still, I knew what my therapist would say, so I powered through the rest of the fifteen minutes, my mind wandering, but my body obliging. Routine had its grip on me, and for now, that was enough.

I got myself ready for the workday, going through the usual motions: hair, makeup, and getting dressed. In the kitchen, I scooped fresh food for Archie. I didn't even need to call him—he appeared the second he heard the tin of his food being opened.

"Here you go, boy," I said, setting his bowl down.

I leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the head. "Be good while I'm gone, okay? I'll be back later."

Grabbing my jacket, I braced myself for the chilly spring morning. It might have been the start of the season, but the air still held a sharp bite. As I headed out to my car, I steeled myself for the day ahead.

Pulling into the small parking lot, I felt it again—that familiar wave of apprehension creeping in. The tightness in my chest. The flutter of nerves. It didn't make sense. I liked my job, I liked the people I worked with, yet every morning, I faced this quiet anxiety, this edge that lingered just beneath the surface.

My therapist suggested it might be my social anxiety, or maybe even imposter syndrome. She said that even though I was qualified for my position, there was a part of me that felt like I didn't really deserve to be here worried that I would be found out and be seen as incompetent.

Taking a deep breath and telling myself "You've got this Maeve, it's just another day. Just gotta be here for a few hours and then you can go back home to your bed and binge crappy reality TV with Archie."

I worked in the HR department of a small business, tucked away as a Payroll Specialist. Fortunately, I didn't have to interact much with people—just numbers. My day revolved around processing payroll, calculating wages, and dealing with taxes. Sound boring? Well, it is. But it pays the bills, I don't have to make small talk, and I can listen to podcasts all day.

Grabbing my bag, I headed to the door, scanned my badge, and made my way to my desk. I liked getting in early. The sooner I arrived, the sooner I could leave, and most of the office was still empty. No awkward interactions. Setting my things down in my cubicle, I took a deep breath. You've got this, I reminded myself. Today would fly by, and before I knew it, I'd be heading home. Alright, let's do this.

It wasn't long before I heard the familiar voice of my best friend.

"Good morning, gorgeous! How was your weekend?"

"Morning, Devy. Same old, same old. How about you?"

"Ugh, it was brutal! Henry's teething, and Mila's in some kind of sleep regression, so we had two grumpy little ones all weekend."

"Aww," I pouted, sympathizing. "That sounds rough. If you ever need a break, you know I'm always here to help."

"You're too sweet for your own good, Maeve. I appreciate it. Did I mention you're looking stunning today?"

I could feel my cheeks heating up. Compliments were never something I was used to growing up, so I still found it hard to accept them. "Thanks, Dev, and yes, you did. You're as beautiful as always."

"Good morning, ladies! Did I hear Maeve's looking gorgeous today?" Mike's voice cut through the office buzz, and I could feel the familiar knot of anxiety form. Mike wasn't bad-looking, but in the eight months I'd been here, he'd asked me out twice. I'd politely turned him down both times, but the message never seemed to stick. Men and their egos. Devin shot me a look, rolling her eyes as her hands clenched into fists.

"Morning, Michael. You heard right, but she's not interested, so keep walking."

"Whoa, whoa, Devin, no need to be so hostile. I'm just giving Shortcake a warm morning welcome," he said, locking eyes with me. I felt heat creep up my neck, not because I liked him, but because his attention always left me feeling uneasy.

"Morning, Mike," I mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, I'll let you get to work. See you around, Pipsqueak," he said, winking as he turned away. The wink made my skin crawl.

Devin gagged dramatically, and I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Ugh, can't he take a hint? I know he makes you uncomfortable."

He definitely did. There was something about him—something off, unsettling. "If he ever crosses a line or does something inappropriate, you'll tell me, right?"

Mama Bear Devin was out in full force, one of the many reasons I loved her. She was one of the few people I shared everything with, aside from my therapist and Gran.

"Yeah, I will, Mama Bear," I teased.

Devin smiled, but her eyes stayed serious. "I mean it, Maeve. There's something not right with that guy. Anyway, I'd better get to my desk before I spend all morning talking to you. Not that I'd mind, but I do need to get some work done."

"Okie dokie. See you at lunch, Dev!"

"See ya, Evie!" she called over her shoulder, using the nickname my grandparents had given me—one Devin had adopted too.

I sighed. I was already ready for this day to be over.

AN

I attached a picture of how I imagine Archie above. Isn't he the cutest?

Do you prefer cats or dogs?