I woke up to silence, my hand throbbing before my eyes even fluttered open.
The bandage was tight around my wrist—too tight, maybe. But I hadn't dared adjust it since the doctor looked me over.
He had called it a mild sprain.
"It's a deep cut, and you likely strained your wrist when you twisted it back," he'd said. "Keep the bandage dry. No lifting. No typing. Just rest."
Right. Rest.
While I was happy to be getting some much needed relaxation time, I couldn't deny the fact that my thoughts were making me restless and telling on my peace of mind.
My apartment was still, lit by the soft gray glow slipping through the curtains. A bowl of untouched cereal sat on the coffee table. A bowl of cereal I had no memory of pouring.
What I did remember, though, was the burn. The snap of my voice. The look on Mr. Torres' face.
I sat up slowly in my bed, wincing at the ache as I adjusted my hand in my lap. My phone buzzed beside me. One new message.
William Torres: Per doctor's instruction, you're not expected in today. Rest
I stared at it, my thumb hovering.
I mean, I knew that.
Why did he feel the need to text me about it?
Rest.
I should be relieved. But all I felt was a cold, coiled tension.
I yelled at the CEO. Bled on the floor. And now I'm told to rest like a liability.
I tossed my phone aside and slumped back into my sheets. My body was heavy and my head, worse. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the sharp cut, his hands trying to wrap gauze around my fingers—so carefully, too carefully. Like touching me somehow hurt him.
The whole thing had shaken him.
Very much so that it led him to apologize.
I never imagined him as the type to apologize to anybody.
I decided to shake the thought away. I shot a quick text to Quincy asking her if she was around before I finally got out of bed. I made my way to the kitchen to get some water and after carefully taking a bottle out from the fridge, I closed it back.
While I gulped the water down, my eyes unconsciously drifted to my phone screen on the counter, in expectation of a reply from Quincy. Or maybe, someone else. Maybe William?
Shaking my head, I screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it down. Taking my phone in my hands, I opened my messages—William's conversation—to see his text still lying there. Unanswered.
Deciding not to think too much of it, I typed out:
Thanks for the bandage.
I stared at it for a moment.
Then, I deleted it.
I placed my phone back down and pressed the heel of my good hand to my forehead. I didn't want to make a habit of sending him text messages. Even after he insisted I text him when I was in my apartment last night, I still didn't. I think it would be better if we both stuck to mobile communication for information and emergencies only.
And a part of me still refused to believe that he actually cared that I got hurt.
He probably just didn't want a lawsuit for careless treatment to employees. Or something.
Before I could let any more thoughts get rambled up in my head, I heard a knock on my front door followed by Quincy's all so familiar voice:
"Maddy? You in there? Come open up."
I practically skipped my way to the front door and had the biggest smile when I pulled it open to see Quincy staring back at me.
She held two bags up, "I brought breakfast."
"Oh my God, thank you so much." I said, stepping aside so she could come in.
Immediately I locked the door, we both settled down on my couch, laying the food down on the coffee table and digging into it.
She had brought milkshakes and waffles.
"Girl, what happened to you?" She asked, clearly referring to the bandage on my hand.
I looked at it, "Work accident."
She gave me a look, "I feel like I haven't seen your face in forever. This job is really taking all of your time."
"It is." I blew raspberry. "Well, thanks to this big guy over here, I got doctor's instructions to rest. So, I guess hurting my hand and damn nearly twisting my wrist wasn't such a bad thing."
"Shit, it was that serious?"
I shrugged, "It feels better now, I guess."
Quincy gave me a look, "And your boss?"
"What about him?"
She gave me another pointed look.
"You've been going on and on about how he's such an asshole and how he's making your life miserable." She stated. "Did this have anything to do with him?"
I looked to her and waved her off. "Quin, it was an office accident. It's all good."
"Oh my God, you're defending him." She faked a gasp.
"I am not defending him. It really was just an office accident." I told her again. "Besides, he was actually kind enough to give me first aid and he made sure I had it looked over by the company doctor."
She was still looking at me.
Only now, it was an entirely different one.
It was a smirk.
A sly smirk.
"What?" I had to ask, finding it a bit concerning.
"Nothing." She shook her head.
But that look was still on her face.
"Quincy." I faced her squarely. "What?"
"Nothing. But, I mean, doesn't it feel weird sometimes?" She asked, eyebrows teasing. "The fact that you and that man have literally seen each other's genitals?"
I almost laughed, "Quincy. Stop-"
"You literally called sex with him the best sex you've ever had in your life." She reminded me. "Does that just go away? That looming sexual tension that even I could feel radiating off you two in that club? Is that completely gone now?"
"Quincy, stop!" I pressed my hands against my ears. "I don't wanna think about it."
"Exactly. You can't deny the fact that it's not there." She continued to tease. "Because God help me, if I was in your shoes, with such a ridiculously fine man, I would've been having the best office sex that I could only dream of."
"Come on, Quin. Ew. No." I tried to shake those thoughts out of my head. "He's the CEO. That would be very unprofessional."
Quincy laughed, "Like I care. Really, Mads, I don't know how you do it."
I can't lie, the fact that William Torres was a complete and total ass who treated me like garbage was a great factor in distracting me from the fact that something happened between us.
But now, with how semi-kind he acted after my injury, with how much he took accountability and with the way Quincy kept ringing it into my head, it was hard for thoughts of that night not to come creeping back in.
"No! Shut up!" I wasn't sure whether that was for Quincy or myself. "I don't wanna hear it. Let's talk about you instead."
"What about me?" She asked.
"How's it going with Carlos?" I asked, giving her a soft nudge.
"It's going fine, actually." She said to me, looking flushed.
"Oh my God, Quin, you're blushing!" I gasped.
"I am not." She placed a hand over her face, grinning from ear to ear.
"Right." I remarked sarcastically.
"You know what? Let's forget about men and enjoy this time the universe has granted us to spend together." Quincy said, sinking into the couch. "Now, I would suggest we go out and do something fun tonight but seeing you're on doctor's specific instructions to rest, I guess we'll just watch a movie. Grab your laptop."
I smiled, "Yay!"