Moments of Impact H.S. A.U.

12.

One thing I truly hate is calling in sick. Of course, I also hate being sick, but I hate having to explain that I'm not coming to work as if I'm not taking my work seriously, which I am. But I also don't want want to disappoint by only being able to do the job half-heartedly which would happen if I were to show up without feeling my best. I've already taken two aspirins in an attempt of killing my fever and headache, but so far it's not doing much. So I call Harry with an increased heartbeat and sweaty palms. But Harry's sweet as always, and very understanding. He even asks me if I need anything and reminds me to keep warm and drink loads of water.

"You sure you don't need me to send someone? A doctor perhaps?"

"I'm positive, Harry. You just take care of your job, and I'll try to take care of myself so I can come to work tomorrow," I say, and a cough slips my mouth. It may be more than 30 degrees outside yet somehow I still manage catching the flu. Why does this always happen to me?

"You can just take the rest of the week off," he offers. Yet it's an offer I can't accept.

"It's Wednesday."

"I'm aware. But I want you to take care of yourself. I can manage without you for a little while, just as long as you promise to be back on Monday."

"I promise. That is if I haven't caught a pneumonia by then," I say trying to chuckle, but laughing hurts as my stomach is aching and my throat sore.

"Not the time to be sassy, miss Davis," Harry says and if I didn't know better I'd be scolding him for calling me that. But I can hear it in his voice that he's not mad. More likely he's trying to lighten my mood which is working. And I was worried for this conversation why? With a boss like Harry, there's nothing to worry about.

"Sorry, boss,' I say with a smile playing on my lips. Why is talking to him so effortlessly?

"I'm sorry, Leah. I gotta go. Please take care of yourself. I hope you get well soon. Don't be afraid to call if there's anything you need."

"Thanks Harry," I say, and then the line goes dead, and I hide underneath the blanket on my couch feeling sorry for myself. At times like these, I wish I was younger and still living with my parents so someone would be taking care of me, instead of me having to take care of myself. But that's what it's like to be grown up, although I must admit I don't feel much older than when I was nineteen. However, if I need him, I'm aware that Harry will be here for me. All it takes is a phone call, but I think we are both aware there is no way I'm going to make that call. I'd very much like for him to be here, but that's a thought I can't hold onto because if I do, I think I'll lose my mind. And I don't need him to be here. I shouldn't create a false reality where Harry is more than just my boss, because if I do I'm very much aware of the outcome. I'll end up hurt just like last time I let a man be part of my life.

With a sigh I turn on the TV. I can't let him into my life like that I remind myself. If only there was more men like Harry apart from the fact that he's flirting with someone else while he's in a relationship. Perhaps that's just how men are?

The entire day is spent watching television, snacking on different foods that I don't find particularly interesting, and sleeping. Not the best way to spend the time, but I'm trying to relax although there's laundry to do, and I should be vacuuming. Tomorrow is another day.

I hear a buzz and for a moment I think it's my phone before I realise someone's at the door. Probably just the mailman although the time is rather odd, but I let whoever it is into the building. I readjust the bun on my head and that's when I hear a knock on my door. Who the hell is this? I wonder as I make my way over to the door. I look like shit. My hair looks greasy, I have dark bags underneath my eyes and my breath is terrible. Please just be Maddie or a delivery guy. But as I stare through the peep hole I see the one person I didn't expect. "Fuck."