Denisse paused just inside the lobby doors.
The familiar rush of cool, conditioned air greeted her first. It carried the faint scent of polished marble and brewed coffee from the café tucked near the reception desk. Morning light filtered through the tall glass panels, spilling across the expansive floor and catching the silver lettering of the company's name mounted behind the front desk.
For a moment, she simply stood there.
She hadn't realized how much she missed this.
The quiet hum of conversations. The rhythmic clicking of heels across tile. The soft chime of elevators arriving and departing. It felt grounding in a way she hadn't expected.
"I'm really back," she murmured under her breath.
The past few days of fever and confinement had made her apartment feel smaller than it was. Restless. Too quiet. Now, surrounded by the familiar pulse of the company, she felt steadier. Stronger.
She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the elevators.
A few employees nodded politely as she stepped inside with them. Someone whispered a soft "Welcome back," and she offered a grateful smile in return. The elevator rose smoothly, the faint mechanical hum vibrating beneath her feet.
As the doors opened to her floor, Denisse inhaled again.
Home base.
She walked briskly to her station and dropped her bag onto her chair. Her official hours had not yet begun, but she didn't hesitate. Files were neatly stacked where she had left them. Emails waited. Schedules needed confirming.
She powered on her computer and dove in.
If she stayed busy, she wouldn't think.
Minutes passed in focused silence.
Then she heard it.
The distinct, measured clink of heels against the polished floor.
Her fingers paused over the keyboard.
Even without looking, she knew.
Lesley.
The sound approached with unhurried confidence, precise and steady. Denisse lifted her head just as her boss stopped in front of her desk.
"Good morning, Ms. Ashford," Denisse greeted, keeping her tone professional.
Lesley stood there in a tailored charcoal suit, posture immaculate as always. Her hair was sleek, her expression composed, but there was something searching in her eyes.
"Good morning," Lesley replied. Her gaze scanned Denisse carefully. "Are you sure you're well enough to be here?"
The question was calm, but it lingered.
"Yes, Ms. Ashford," Denisse answered. She met her eyes briefly before lowering them to her desk. "I've regained my strength. Thank you for… for allowing me time to rest."
She hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"And for the food and medicines."
There it was. A small acknowledgment. Not too personal. Just enough.
Lesley gave a slight nod. "That's good."
For a heartbeat, it seemed like she might say something more. Instead, she turned and walked toward her glass-walled office.
The day unfolded quickly after that.
Reports were reviewed. Meetings confirmed. Calls answered and transferred. The steady rhythm of productivity wrapped around them both. Through the transparent wall of Lesley's office, Denisse could see her seated at her desk, focused and unyielding, fingers moving efficiently across the keyboard.
Yet as the hours passed, Denisse noticed subtle shifts.
A brief rub at the temple.
A longer pause before answering a call.
The faintest sigh when she thought no one was watching.
She looks tired.
Denisse stared at her screen for a moment, then glanced again toward the office.
Maybe she needs coffee.
Before she could overthink it, she stood and headed toward the break room.
The coffee machine hummed softly as she prepared the cup. She measured the sugar carefully. A precise splash of milk. Not too much. Lesley preferred it balanced, not overly sweet.
She remembered the first time she had gotten it wrong and how Lesley had calmly corrected her.
She carried the cup back with careful steps, steadying it so it wouldn't spill.
At the office door, she knocked gently.
"Come in."
Denisse stepped inside.
"Hi, Ms. Ashford. I brought you coffee. I thought you could use some."
Lesley looked up briefly. "Oh. Thank you, Denisse."
The gratitude was genuine but fleeting. Her eyes returned to the computer screen almost immediately.
Denisse placed the cup down carefully.
She waited a second longer than necessary.
Say something else.
But Lesley was already immersed in whatever document filled her screen.
Denisse turned toward the door.
Before she could reach it, the door burst open.
"Look who's here!"
The voice was bright, almost musical.
Denisse stepped aside instinctively as a woman entered without hesitation.
Lesley's reaction was immediate.
She stood up so quickly that her chair rolled back slightly, and without a trace of her usual restraint, she crossed the space and pulled the woman into a tight embrace.
Denisse froze.
The woman laughed softly against Lesley's shoulder. One hand rested protectively over a visible baby bump beneath her fitted dress. In her other hand was a small paper bag with a pharmacy logo printed across it.
The sight struck Denisse harder than she expected.
A baby bump.
Her mind flickered backward, unbidden.
"But what about my baby, Dad? I don't want to leave my baby alone."
She had overheard that conversation on Lesley's first day. The tight strain in her voice. The urgency.
Outside the office that day, Gigi had leaned toward her with wide eyes. "Wait… I thought she was single. She already has a baby?"
Denisse had frowned then, brushing it off.
Now the memory returned with sharp clarity.
Is this… the baby she mentioned?
She hadn't taken it seriously back then. Had assumed it meant someone.
But this—
This was real. Is it?
Her chest tightened.
Lesley pulled back from the hug, hands still resting gently on the woman's shoulders. Her face was lit with something Denisse had rarely seen in the office.
Joy.
Unfiltered, unguarded joy.
Denisse felt like she was intruding.
"I should step out now, Ms. Ashford," she said quickly, lowering her gaze. "If you need anything, I'll be at my station."
Lesley glanced at her, as if just remembering she was there. "Thank you, Denisse."
The warmth in her voice lingered, but it was no longer directed at her.
Denisse left the office and closed the door quietly behind her.
She returned to her desk and sat down.
Work. Focus on work.
She opened a document and began typing.
Still, her eyes drifted occasionally to the glass wall.
She could see them laughing. Talking animatedly. Lesley leaning slightly forward, her expression soft. The woman resting a hand over her stomach as she spoke.
Denisse's fingers hovered above the keyboard.
What am I feeling right now?
Is this… hurt?
Why would I be hurt?
She straightened abruptly.
No. Absolutely not.
She forced her gaze back to the screen.
Later that afternoon, Denisse found herself at the copying machine in the corner of the office. The steady whirring filled the small space as papers slid out one after another.
Her mind refused to quiet. She saw it again—the way Lesley had hugged the woman. The way her eyes lit up. The way she smiled, soft and unguarded, a version of herself Denisse had never fully witnessed.
"Of course she'd be happy," Denisse muttered softly. "Seeing… someone in her life. And a baby."
The words tasted bitter on her tongue. Her chest tightened, the ache familiar and unwelcome.
"Are you affected, Denisse Moore?" she whispered to herself, low enough that no one could hear. "She only cooked for you because she felt guilty. Because she needed you back at work. Were you expecting something else?"
Her throat constricted. A flicker of anger flared. "Unbelievable… she even went on a date with me…"
Then the thought hit her—the sharp, almost absurd realization of her own assumptions. Wait. Why am I assuming the worst? Maybe it wasn't hers. Maybe she wasn't even involved with that woman in the way I'm imagining. Maybe… maybe she decided to have the child after our date.
Denisse blinked, the sharp knot in her chest loosening slightly. Maybe… maybe I've been reading too much into it.
"You're talking to the copying machine now?"
Denisse nearly jumped out of her skin.
She turned to see Mariah standing there, eyebrows raised in amusement.
"Oh. Hi," Denisse said quickly, gathering the printed documents. "I was just… debating what to get Gigi for her birthday this Friday."
Mariah laughed. "Right. Because the copier gives great gift advice."
Denisse forced a small smile.
"Oh! I almost forgot about that," Mariah continued. "Do you want to check out the mall later? Maybe we can find something she'll actually like."
"Yeah," Denisse replied, grateful for the distraction. "I'll message Jackie too. See if she wants to come."
"Perfect. See you later, girl."
"See you."
Mariah walked away.
Denisse stood there for a moment longer, holding the stack of papers against her chest.
She took a slow breath.
This is ridiculous.
She walked back to her desk, sat down, and adjusted the documents in front of her.
Focus.
Work.
Numbers. Deadlines. Schedules.
Not hugs. Not baby bumps. Not the way her heart had dipped when she saw that smile.
She lowered her gaze to the file and began typing again, determined to bury every stray thought of Lesley beneath the steady rhythm of professionalism.