Chapter 3 PROFESSIONAL SUFFERING

Grief doesn’t pause for office hours.

I learned that on a Tuesday morning, standing in front of my wardrobe, staring blankly at clothes I’d worn a hundred times before and suddenly hated. Nothing felt right. Everything felt loud. Even the silence.

My phone buzzed on the bed.

8:14 a.m.

A calendar reminder popped up:

Staff briefing – 9:00 a.m.

I groaned and pulled on the safest outfit I owned: black trousers, a cream blouse, flats I could survive the day in. I didn’t need to look pretty. I needed to look functional.

Because if there was one thing heartbreak did not care about, it was deadlines.

The commute felt longer than usual. Every stop, every announcement, every voice grated on my nerves. I kept replaying his mother’s voice in my head, smooth and smug, like she’d done me a favour by ripping my life open.

You were a distraction.

By the time I got to the office, I was already exhausted—and it wasn’t even 9 a.m.

I had barely dropped my bag on my desk when a voice floated over the partition.

“Good morning, emotionally unavailable queen.”

I looked up.

Theo.

My work best friend. My emotional support human. Gay. Dramatic. Always right.

He leaned against my desk, iced coffee in hand, dressed impeccably as always, like heartbreak had never touched him and deadlines feared him personally.

“Please tell me you didn’t cry on the train,” he said.

“I did not,” I replied. “I dissociated.”

“Progress,” he nodded approvingly. “I’m proud.”

I smiled weakly. “If I collapse today, just drag me under your desk and tell HR I went remote.”

“Already prepared a speech,” he said. “Very convincing.”

Before I could respond, my desk phone rang.

I stared at it.

Theo stared at it.

We both knew.

I picked it up. “Good morning.”

“Althea,” my boss’s voice came through, calm and annoyingly composed. “Can you come to my office for a moment?”

My shoulders slumped. “Yes, sir.”

Theo mouthed, Again? and rolled his eyes.

I hung up and stood slowly, already bracing myself.

This was the third time today.

And it wasn’t even 9:30.

Mr. Rowan Pierce—my boss—was many things. Brilliant. Efficient. Respected. The kind of man people straightened their backs around. Tall, quiet, always in perfectly pressed shirts, eyes sharp like he noticed everything and commented on nothing.

Except lately, he noticed me.

Not in a way I could define. Not openly. Not enough to accuse him of anything. Just… enough to be annoying.

I knocked once and entered.

“Yes?” I asked, neutral.

He looked up from his desk, expression unreadable. “Close the door.”

I did.

“I need you to revise the client report,” he said, sliding a file across the desk. “There are inconsistencies.”

I blinked. “I submitted that yesterday. You approved it.”

“Yes,” he said. “But I want a second version.”

A pause.

“Is there something specific you’d like changed?” I asked.

He hesitated. Just slightly.

“No,” he said. “Just… refine it.”

Refine it.

I nodded. “Alright.”

“And Althea?”

“Yes?”

“Take your time,” he added. “No rush.”

I stared at him.

“No rush,” I repeated.

“Yes.”

I left the office feeling more confused than anything.

Back at my desk, Theo swiveled his chair toward me immediately. “Let me guess. Vague instructions. Intense eye contact. Zero actual reason.”

I dropped into my chair. “He wants me to refine a report he already approved.”

Theo scoffed. “That man does not want revisions. That man wants proximity.”

I frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Theo said gently. “I’ve seen this movie. I’ve watched straight men spiral in corporate environments before. He likes you.”

I laughed once. “He does not.”

“He absolutely does.”

“No,” I said firmly. “He barely speaks to me outside work.”

“He calls you into his office six times a day,” Theo replied. “That is speaking.”

“He’s just… thorough.”

“He is married to his job,” Theo said. “But you? You are his favourite spreadsheet.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my computer, trying to focus. But my brain refused to cooperate. Words blurred. Numbers danced. Every few minutes, my chest tightened for no reason.

Then the phone rang again.

I didn’t even look this time.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Althea,” Mr. Pierce said. “Can you come back?”

Theo’s mouth dropped open.

I closed my eyes briefly. “Of course.”

When I got to his office, he was standing by the window this time, sleeves rolled up slightly, city skyline behind him. He turned as I entered.

“I forgot to mention,” he said, “we have a client call tomorrow. I’d like you to sit in.”

“That wasn’t on my schedule,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. “I just decided.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

Silence.

He didn’t dismiss me.

I stood there, awkward, unsure.

“Is that all?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. Then, as an afterthought, “Actually—are you alright?”

The question caught me off guard.

“I’m fine,” I replied automatically.

He studied me for a second too long. “You seem… distracted today.”

I forced a polite smile. “Just tired.”

“Take the afternoon off if you need to,” he said suddenly.

I blinked. “I’m okay.”

He nodded slowly, like he was disappointed by my answer. “Very well.”

When I left his office this time, Theo was already waiting.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “He’s obsessed.”

“He asked if I was okay,” I said.

Theo clutched his chest dramatically. “That’s how it starts.”

I sank into my chair. “I cannot deal with this. My life is in shambles. My ex moved continents without telling me. His mother hates me. I am one mild inconvenience away from quitting and joining a monastery.”

Theo reached over and squeezed my hand. “You are allowed to fall apart quietly while being admired professionally.”

I snorted. “That’s not comforting.”

“Sure it is,” he said. “Also, your boss doesn’t know how to flirt. So instead, he assigns tasks.”

I groaned. “I don’t have the emotional capacity for workplace tension.”

“Good,” Theo said. “Because this is not tension. This is longing in business casual.”

The rest of the day dragged.

Every hour, another excuse. Another call. Another reason to see me. A document. A question. A clarification that could have been an email.

By 5 p.m., I was done.

As I packed my bag, my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I stared at it, heart skipping.

I didn’t answer.

I stood up, ready to leave, when Mr. Pierce appeared at my desk.

“Heading out?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

He hesitated. “Have a good evening, Althea.”

“You too, sir.”

As I walked out with Theo, he leaned in close. “Mark my words. That man is going to ruin someone’s life.”

“Hopefully not mine,” I said.

Theo smirked. “Too late. He already likes you.”

Outside, the air felt cooler. Cleaner.

For the first time all day, I breathed.

My heart was still broken. My life still uncertain.

But somehow, between frustration, survival, and unexpected attention, I realized something strange.

I was still here.

And maybe—

Just maybe—

That was enough for now.