twenty

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harper

my office door opens at 8:06 on tuesday morning, and i groan with my head in my hands.

"don't even try talking to me right now. i drank the entire bottle last night and half of another— despite your concerns— and now i for some reason have a hangover. what is this? college?"

the noise of someone clearing their throat makes my anxiety spike.

that is not ethan.

i wince and slowly sit up straight, facing mr. bentley in front of me. he looks at me expectantly and with curiosity.

"i'm sorry, ms. harper. what?"

"oh nothing," i try to play it off as if it was a joke. "just a silly game my assistant and i play. i'm sorry, i thought you were him. what is it that you need from me?"

he shakes his head but drops a stack of papers on my desk anyway. "sign those."

i pick one up. "what's this for?"

"we're rewriting company policies. not much has changed, don't worry. just sign and be done."

i nod. "got it."

he turns to leave, but stops. "harper?"

"hm?"

"heavy drinking on a monday is very tacky."

as soon as he's out the door, i groan loudly and plop my head on the papers on my desk, making my headache ten times worse.

i hear the click again, and this time i look up to see who it is before saying anything.

it's ethan, thank god.

in his hands, he holds a carton carrier of two coffees and a paper bag from my favorite bagel place.

"did you keep drinking after i left?" he asks in a knowing voice.

my silence is his answer, and he quietly slides both coffees to me, and the bagel.

"thank you," i call out as he disappears into his office.

my eyes burn under the harsh light of my office as i reach for a coffee and the paper bag. as i pull out the bagel and dairy free cream cheese container, my hand brushes against something fluttery, like paper.

i pull it out.

question of the day: (hangover edition)

if you were the ruler of the world for the day, what would be your first proclamation?

i find myself smiling at the sticky note and reaching for a pen to write back.

^^ probably to ban the color beige. it's so boring. either that or free healthcare. haven't decided which is more important yet. yours?

like always, i march up to ethan's glass door and stick it on. instead of pretending like he doesn't notice me, he turns immediately and smiles at the note.

when i get back from lunch later in the afternoon, the sticky note is back on my desk where it started.

^^ i would make the international bird a parrot. i had one of those when i was younger.
(p.s. beige is dope. you just don't know how to pair it with anything (kidding, please don't fire me))

and as always, his answer makes me laugh.

*******

tuesday night is sad again.

i keep walking around my house, thinking of how big it is for just me, and no one else. when i moved in, i bought tons of things just to fill the gaping holes, but now i have the sudden urge to get rid of it all and replace it with someone else's stuff.

i don't know why i'm suddenly so into finding someone, because last month i could've sworn that i would just be a rich old lady with no husband.

and at the time, that seemed desirable.

it's that stupid fortune cookie that made me change my mind.

i sigh and look at it hanging in my pantry, tacked to a board where i put all my reminders and grocery lists.

when all is said and done, the love of your life is presented right before your eyes.

reading it makes my head spin because of how many times i try to think of what it really means.

when all is said and done.

what does that have to do with anything?

i want to crave attention from someone, be completely head over heels to the point where i'm not sure i can function in the mornings, and be overflowing with lust and desire only they can fulfill.

i just... want to be loved.

is that too much to ask?

with a deep sigh, i shuffle through my apartment and try to dump the thoughts out of my head. it's throwing me off my game.

when i check my phone, it has two messages.

ethan dolan (assistant): sorry to bother you this late, but i read the list of last minute christmas gifts for your family, and vans is all out of women's size 7 for the checkered platform. do you want me to go in the store tomorrow and see if they have it, or call and name drop?

ethan dolan (assistant): also, send me a picture of ruby. i miss her.

the first message stresses me out, but the second one wipes the feeling away and replaces it with a smile.

almost as if he knew it would.

me: can we both just go to the store tomorrow at lunch? we can stop and get something to eat afterwards.

me: (attachment: 1 image)
me: (attachment: 1 image)

the pictures are ones that i took earlier this evening, and in them she's sitting and waiting patiently in front of the door, and then playing with her favorite toy, a squeaky sloth.

ethan dolan (assistant): just what i needed. yes, i'm available at lunch

giggling just a little, i lay my phone facedown back on the counter and wait for ruby's owner to come pick her up.

i feel different as i slip into bed at around 11, just an odd sense of comfort floods my body.

with one last look to the empty space next to me, i shut off my lights.

when all is said and done | e.d.Where stories live. Discover now