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Amanda sat perfectly still as Ericka rested her head on her shoulder, her arm carefully wrapping around her waist like the moment might break if either of them moved too fast.
It didn't.
It held.
And Amanda let her stay there, her hand gently tracing slow circles against Ericka's back—quiet comfort, no questions asked.
It wasn't the kind of silence that needed to be filled. It was the kind that said I see you, even when you're not saying a word.
After a while, Ericka spoke, voice low and steady against Amanda's collarbone.
"I don't let people see me like this."
"I figured," Amanda replied softly.
Ericka leaned back enough to look at her, expression unreadable but eyes... softer.
"I've always had to be the strong one. The one who fixes everything. The one who doesn't have time to fall apart."
Amanda nodded. "But you're allowed to. You know that, right?"
Ericka let out a quiet breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not," Amanda said. "But I'm not going anywhere. So take your time. I'll be right here."
Ericka studied her like she wasn't sure what to do with someone who didn't ask for anything in return. Amanda didn't back down.
"I don't want the version of you that always has it together," she added. "I want the one who's real, even when it's messy."
There it was again—that flicker in Ericka's expression. Not fear. Not doubt. Just... a crack in the armor.
She didn't say anything more, but her hand found Amanda's again, and this time, she didn't let go.
Amanda leaned into her gently. "You don't have to tell me what you're carrying. Not yet. But when you do—I'll be ready to listen."
Ericka's lips curved, just slightly. "You really mean that."
"I do."
_____________________
The soft rhythm of Ericka's breathing had changed—slower, deeper. Heavier.
Amanda glanced down and smiled when she saw Ericka completely still against her shoulder, her eyelashes resting gently against her cheeks, lips parted slightly as sleep settled over her like a blanket.
She didn't mean to fall asleep. Amanda could tell by the way she'd tried to keep talking, by the way her fingers had gone slack around Amanda's hand just moments ago.
Carefully, Amanda shifted out from under her without waking her, steadying Ericka with both hands. "You're out, huh?" she whispered.
No response.
Amanda stood, easing her arms beneath Ericka's legs and back. She was light, warm, and surprisingly relaxed in Amanda's arms as she lifted her.
As she carried her through the apartment, Amanda caught her own reflection in the mirror—messy bun, bare feet, Ericka tucked close to her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. And weirdly? It was.
She nudged open the door to the bedroom with her foot and gently laid Ericka down on the neatly made bed. Ericka stirred only a little, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like "don't forget the navy swatch," which made Amanda smile.
She tugged the blanket over her and brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead before standing back to look at her.
Soft. Peaceful.
So different from the Ericka the world saw.
And so easy to love in this quiet moment.
Amanda backed out of the room quietly and returned to the living room, where the tablet still sat charging on the coffee table. She sank into the couch, pulled it into her lap, and opened up her work email.
Dozens of updates, approvals, and reminders blinked back at her.
She combed through them efficiently, flagging the urgent ones, forwarding the rest. When she was done, she opened the agenda for tomorrow's meetings and started planning out Ericka's schedule—blocking time for breaks where she could, noting potential conflicts, drafting responses ahead of time.
By the time the clock ticked past midnight, Amanda had everything outlined, color-coded, and filed.
She closed the tablet with a sigh and glanced down the hall toward the bedroom.
Still quiet.
Still safe.
Amanda curled up on the couch with a blanket and let herself rest too—just enough to be ready for tomorrow.
Because tomorrow, they'd go back to pretending nothing had changed.
______________________________
Amanda woke to the gentle glow of early morning light streaming in through the windows. The apartment was quiet, still wrapped in that soft, pre-dawn hush where everything felt suspended in time.
She blinked, adjusting to her surroundings—the couch, the blanket she barely remembered pulling over herself, the tablet still resting on the coffee table. For a brief second, she'd forgotten where she was.
And then she remembered.
Ericka.
Last night.
The way she'd fallen asleep without meaning to.
How Amanda had carried her to bed, tucked her in, and taken care of everything while she rested.
She sat up slowly, running a hand through her hair and stretching out the stiffness in her neck. Her eyes flicked toward the hallway, the bedroom still quiet.
Good. Let her sleep.
Amanda tiptoed into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water before opening the fridge and quietly assessing its contents.
She smiled at the predictably minimal options.
Greek yogurt. Almond milk. A lot of bottled water and one single jar of olives that looked like it had been there for months.
"Guess I'm not making breakfast," she whispered to herself.
Instead, she settled back on the couch, tablet in hand again.
She skimmed through the morning updates, refreshed the meeting calendar, and prepped notes for the 10 a.m. strategy session Ericka had on the books.
Her fingers worked on autopilot, eyes focused, thoughts split between schedules and the woman still sleeping just a room away.
It wasn't until she heard soft footsteps down the hallway that she looked up.
Ericka stood there, barefoot, wrapped in a gray robe, hair slightly tousled from sleep. She rubbed her eyes before blinking at Amanda, the edges of her mouth tugging up into the smallest, sleepiest smile.
"You're up early," she said, her voice still raspy.
Amanda smiled back. "Habit. You, on the other hand, actually slept."
Ericka raised a brow. "You carried me to bed."
"I did."
"And you didn't wake me?"
"You needed it," Amanda said simply.
Ericka was quiet for a moment, then crossed the room and sat beside her, glancing at the tablet. "Work already?"
Amanda held it out to her. "I synced your updates. Cleared some time before the 10 a.m. meeting. Figured you'd want a slow start."
Ericka looked at the screen, then at Amanda. "You're kind of incredible."
Amanda smirked. "You're just figuring that out?"
Ericka leaned back against the couch, letting her shoulder brush Amanda's. "No. I just haven't said it out loud yet."
Amanda's heart did a quiet little flip.
________________________________________
The sleek black car rolled to a smooth stop outside the building, tinted windows reflecting the early morning sunlight. Amanda straightened her blazer and glanced at Ericka beside her, watching the subtle shift already taking place.
It was like watching someone step into armor.
Ericka's shoulders squared. Her jaw set. The softness from earlier—the one that whispered things like "I'm not used to being taken care of"—was gone, tucked carefully behind that sharp, practiced calm she wore like a designer suit.
Amanda didn't take it personally. She knew this version of Ericka just as well.
"You've got a stacked day," Amanda said lightly, double-checking the agenda on her tablet. "But I built in ten minutes between the team check-in and the supplier call. Take a breath in there somewhere."
"I'll use it to read through the revised pitch deck," Ericka replied, already scanning her phone for new updates.
Amanda smirked. "Or, you know... blink."
Ericka didn't look up. "Multitasking is blinking while reading."
Amanda shook her head, amused. "You're impossible."
"And yet here you are," Ericka murmured, just barely a tease in her voice.
Before Amanda could respond, the driver opened Ericka's door.
Ericka stepped out, polished and composed in her black trousers and crisp button-down, hair swept into a neat low bun, sunglasses already in place.
CEO mode: activated.
Amanda followed a moment later, walking into the building a few paces behind her—just enough distance for appearances, just enough to fall back into their rhythm.
Inside, the lobby buzzed with movement. Ericka greeted no one, eyes fixed ahead, already mentally in her first meeting. Her heels clicked with purpose, her energy sharp. The kind of presence that made people move a little faster when they saw her coming.
Amanda kept up easily, tablet in hand, mind ticking through each block of the schedule. She didn't have to chase after Ericka—she just knew how to meet her pace.
In the elevator, they stood in silence. A beat passed.
Then, quietly, without looking over, Ericka said, "Don't let me skip lunch today."
Amanda blinked, surprised.
Then she nodded. "Copy that."
The elevator dinged, and they stepped out—back into the world where everything was fast, high-stakes, and on the edge of spinning out.