The One She Needed

ONE

ALEX

Idiot...

Stupid...

Dumb ass...

The air in the office was heavy with tension, like a storm waiting to break. I sat still, my eyes drifting toward the window, unfocused. Across from me, Mr. Johnson's voice rose and fell, each insult hitting like a slap of cold water. A vein in his neck bulged so much that I half-expected it to burst.

My head aches in time with his frantic gestures. His arms flailed over something as ridiculous as a messed-up coffee order. Who even drinks coffee this late in the day?

Six months under his rule, and I was still standing. If nothing else, that had to mean something-maybe even proof that I could survive anything.

"And another thing..." His voice was relentless, an unending monologue that dragged me through my own litany of past mistakes.

My mind wandered, drifting to the thought of ordering Chinese takeout-noodles, yes, that would be perfect. My reverie was shattered by his sharp inquiry, "Are you even listening to me?" His posture was taut, his frown etched deep into his features.

"Yes, sir," I replied, my words clipped. I could see in the hard set of his jaw that he expected more-a groveling apology perhaps-but I had long since learned that my dignity was not worth the sacrifice. My salary barely justified the effort of appeasing his ego.

His glare was a dagger, seeking a chink in my armor, a vulnerability to exploit. Silence stretched between us, a taut string ready to snap. Yet, in this suffocating atmosphere, I found a strange familiarity, a rhythm to our toxic dance.

"I don't even know why I bother with you," he muttered, rubbing his temples like he could stop the headache before it started.

A sharp reply formed in my mind: Probably because no one else can handle your awful temper. But I swallowed the words. I wasn't perfect, sure-but neither was he. The long line of assistants who had quit before me proved that. Honestly, I deserve an award for putting up with him.

I met his eyes, steady and determined. "This won't happen again."

"It better not," he snapped, waving me away. "Patrice will handle my coffee from now on."

Jealousy flared for a second-Patrice would now get the honor of messing with his drink. However, the thought gave me a small sense of satisfaction.

I hurried out of his office, my feet moving faster than I realized. At my desk, I collapsed into my chair, already counting the hours until I could go home. Midnight would be a miracle if I made it out by then.

I just wanted to watch Family Guy or Game of Thrones in peace, without work hanging over me. Just a little longer, I told myself. Just until I get my degree and leave this place for good.

Patrice appeared, her smile a beacon of warmth. "How's my favorite boss doing?" she teased.

"I can't with your sarcasm right now, Patty," I groaned, letting my head fall back in mock despair.

"That bad, huh?" she chuckled, the words reminding me of the time Mr. Johnson had dragged Lucas out of a hospital bed. "Just hang in there, Alex. You'll be your own boss someday, sending someone else for coffee."

She was right, as always. My future would be different-except I wouldn't throw tantrums over trivialities like cream or no cream.

***

As the clock ticked towards midnight, the office was a quiet sanctuary, save for the gentle rustle of papers. Mr. Johnson had departed for the evening, off to some engagement with an eager admirer.

The office felt abandoned, but I relished the solitude. I could let the music envelop me, the melody of "Blue Moon" a soothing balm:

How can I tell you?
I am trapped unable to speak to you as you smile.
Falling back, recovering a while from the magnitude
Of your presence in and out of me,
Removing all negativity from me.
How can I tell you?
I still refuse to hand the power into you
Without heartbreak pulling me back, reminding me of hell.
I find myself terrified to open up to you,
To tell you how I never grew up seeing Eros.
How can I tell you?
I have now seen a glimpse of Heaven with you
Without the chances of you ever abusing love I breathe.

With a granola bar in hand, I returned to my desk, feeling renewed. The papers lay scattered, a chaotic testament to the day's trials.

However, a gentle tap on my shoulder startled me from my state of ease. I spun around, heart skipping, to find myself face to face with her...