Lisa paced her office. The space unobstructed by furniture or stacks of bankers' boxes was minimal, but it was just enough to offer a few feet to work out her anxiety. The long night she'd spent unable to sleep offered her the opportunity for unmitigated overthinking. As tired as she was, Lisa couldn't stop the rush of adrenaline forcing her muscles to move.
Checking the clock, Lisa wished it would jump forward and stand still at the same time. Roseanne would be getting to work soon. The thought twisted Lisa's empty guts into knots. At least it would be over soon.
"You're here early," Roseanne said from behind her.
Lisa whipped around. "So are you," she replied, surprised to see her almost twenty minutes early.
Roseanne narrowed her eyes. "What's up with you?"
Holding her breath, Lisa looked away. She couldn't stand the scrutiny of her unblinking gaze. It confused her, unsettled her.
"I was thinking," she started, backing away and seeking refuge behind her own desk while Roseanne put her purse in her drawer. "We should probably pretend nothing happened, right?"
Despite having asked her a question, Lisa didn't wait for a response. She didn't even look up, she just kept talking. As if talking in rapid fire could unravel the mass crushing her chest.
Jamming her clammy hands in her pants pocket, Lisa stared at the bulletin board just to the left of Roseanne's head. "I mean, we work together. And share an office. It's probably not a good idea to get involved, right?" she continued, spouting every reason they shouldn't complicate their shared existence, praying she might convince herself by the time she was finished.
"Lalisa—"
Reflexively, Lisa looked at her. It was a mistake. Her stomach dropped at the sight of her unreadable face. Without any hint as to what she was thinking, Lisa guessed the worst.
"Oh, God," she groaned, dropping into her chair like a building crumbling after detonation. "You have no interest in this being a thing," she realized aloud, sweat forming on the small of her back as intense nausea kicked her in the gut. "You probably regret it already, don't you?"
Roseanne rested her hands on her hips. "Are you done having an entire conversation by yourself?"
Begrudgingly, Lisa nodded. She was too tired to say anything else. The anxiety and sleepless night had taken their toll.
"It's cool," she said with enviable calm as she pulled off her blazer and hung it on the back of her chair before sitting down. "You don't have to tie yourself in knots. It happened and it doesn't have to happen again."
"Oh," she replied after a beat, trying not to be visibly deflated despite the complete lack of reaction from Roseanne. Not even a little surprise. It was like Lisa had told her her hair stylist called and moved her appointment back ten minutes. "Right. Yeah, of course." She cleared her throat, digging her nails into her palms to keep her face from betraying the dismay spreading through her chest like the plague.
Without another word, Roseanne spun back toward her computer. After entering her password, she pulled up whatever she'd been working on last and started typing away.
Lisa pretended to get back to work too, but all she could do was stare at the curser blinking on a blank page. She hadn't expected Roseanne to throw a fit and grovel or anything, but maybe skip a beat at least. Try and convince her that it could work, that they could see where it went while keeping it low key to avoid unnecessary pressure or gossip. But she hadn't so much as blinked.
Doing her best to take deep breaths, Lisa tried to focus on preparing a discovery packet for one of her new cases. Roseanne's presence had never been more distracting and all she was doing was working away like Lisa wasn't even there.
