He falls first, boss x assistant, roommates.
Cassandra has been working for Ryder Lockhart for years now as his assistant.
It was inevitable that long hours together didn't turn their strictly professional relationship into a trusting friendship.
S...
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I miss late nights at the office.
Ever since Ryder closed the deal, there hasn't been a necessity for me to stay until late. I was exhausted by the end of it; however, I can't help but miss all the hustle right now.
I miss the silence. I miss the adrenaline shooting through my system after taking a cup of freshly brewed coffee. I miss the hit of inspiration after endless hours of searching for solutions. I miss the long discussions and re-reading every document on this planet until my eyes are blurry.
But most of all, I miss spending time with Ryder.
I still see him every day. I still work next to him, bringing him coffee, going out on meetings with clients and providers, and reporting advances on different projects.
But I miss being alone with him. It was during those spaces that I got to see a different Ryder. A more relaxed, laid-back, and content one. The man I befriended.
I miss having his intoxicating attention on me and his hand on my lower back in a protective and sweet gesture as he guided me to my ride home. And most of all, I miss the smiles. I don't get to see them as often now that we are not in a quiet office just the two of us. It's like all the exhaustion has caught up on him and he cannot muster much of a smile nowadays.
He's been serious and quiet most of the week.
This fact has been bothering me since Monday. It doesn't matter what I've done to cheer him up, nothing has worked so far. By the end of the day, I leave the office restless.
On Thursday, Carter and I are watching a movie in bed, and I'm bored of my mind.
I exhale, adjusting myself in my position, and scowl at the TV. I'm dreading the weekend already, knowing this is how we are going to spend it—in bed with droning voices in the background.
I hate the inactivity of being locked down at home without much to do but watch dull movies. But most of all, I hate that whenever I have spare time, my eyes drift down to the ring on my finger and something tightens in my chest. It feels as if something grasped my lungs and constricted me.
I feel suffocated and don't know why. I especially don't want to ponder much over it.
I'm still not used to being engaged, and whenever I think about that word, my heart sinks. Carter has been broaching the subject of starting to set a date for the wedding, but I shut down when the topic comes up.
I have no idea what's the matter with me. I have never thought of breaking up with Carter, so I should be ecstatic about marrying him. However, the thought of it ignites something scary inside. Something restless and impatient that I can't identify.
I sigh for the tenth time again, crossing my arms over my chest.
I slump my head against the bedrest and roll my neck to the left until I can see Carter. I'm itching to start a conversation to halt the overthinking voices in my head, but I find him asleep instead.
