43
The light was soft—barely there—when Amanda blinked awake.
It filtered through Ericka's bedroom window in streaks of pale gold, landing across the rumpled covers, the stillness of the room broken only by the quiet hum of the city beyond the glass.
She didn't move right away.
She didn't want to.
Her body was warm, tangled in sheets that still carried the scent of Ericka's perfume—subtle, expensive, and now burned into memory. Her leg was hooked around someone else's, and a familiar arm lay draped across her waist.
Ericka.
Last night returned in pieces.
The conversation. The honesty. The softness.
And eventually... more.
Amanda's eyes fluttered closed again as she smiled faintly, her fingers gently brushing the back of Ericka's hand.
But the peace didn't last.
Because a few minutes later, Ericka stirred beside her.
Amanda felt her shift slowly, then still—like realization had landed in her chest all at once.
"Amanda," Ericka's voice came low, tight, and barely above a whisper, "we slept together."
Amanda opened her eyes fully now, turning toward her. "Yeah... I kind of picked up on that."
Ericka sat up quickly, holding the sheets against her chest as she ran a hand down her face. Her movements were stiff, restrained.
"This can't—" she started, her voice strained, "—this was a mistake."
Amanda sat up too, heart dropping just a little. "Ericka—"
"I'm your boss, Amanda," she said, cutting her off, her eyes wide now, but not angry—just rattled. "Do you know how bad this could look? If anyone at the office found out—"
"No one will," Amanda said gently, reaching for her hand. "We were careful before. We can be careful. You said yourself—we never cross the line at work."
Ericka looked down at their hands, her jaw clenched. "It's not that simple."
Amanda's voice softened. "I know it's not. But it wasn't meaningless. You know that."
Silence stretched between them. Ericka pulled her hand away, not harshly—but enough.
Amanda exhaled slowly. "Tell me what you're thinking. Please."
Ericka looked at her, conflicted. "I'm thinking I care about you. I'm thinking last night was... incredible. And I'm also thinking that this could destroy everything I've built if it's not handled the right way."
Amanda nodded slowly. "Then let's figure out the right way."
Ericka looked torn, like her heart and her head were in completely different rooms.
"I don't want to regret this," she said finally, voice barely there.
Amanda's eyes searched hers. "Then don't."
And for a while, they just sat there. Bare. Quiet. Honest.
Not tangled in passion or pretending everything was perfect.
Just two people trying to reconcile what their hearts wanted with the world they lived in.
Amanda didn't try to touch her again.
She just stayed.
Letting the silence hold them both.
Because right now, what Ericka needed... was space.
_________________________________________________________________
Fast forward to next work day
The office felt colder than usual.
Not in temperature—but in energy.
Amanda sat at her desk, typing out the morning briefs with her usual speed and focus, but her chest was tight. Her mind kept drifting back to that moment in Ericka's bedroom, the hush between them, the way Ericka had pulled away—not with anger, but with fear.
Since then, nothing had been said.
No texts. No check-ins. No knowing glances or stolen moments.
Just... space.
And Amanda respected that. But it didn't make it easier.
The elevator dinged.
Her eyes flicked up on instinct. Ericka stepped out, perfectly composed in a navy wrap dress, heels clicking across the floor with her usual grace. Sunglasses. Coffee. That unmistakable air of don't-mess-with-me that usually made people stand a little straighter.
Amanda stood automatically, folder in hand. "Morning. Notes from the supplier call and updates on the logistics report are all here."
Ericka took the folder without looking at her. "Thank you."
No eye contact. No hesitation. Just... business.
Amanda nodded and stepped back, keeping her expression neutral even as her chest ached a little.
She wasn't going to make this harder.
She wasn't going to push.
They had drawn a line.
A real one, this time.
And Amanda intended to respect it.
But inside, she couldn't stop replaying the softness of the night before—how open Ericka had been, how present. The way she had kissed Amanda like she didn't want to stop. Like it meant something.
The way she had looked at her after, as if she wasn't sure how to breathe without her.
Now Ericka stood just beyond the glass wall of her office, already deep into her first call, voice cool and professional.
Amanda exhaled slowly and sank back into her seat.
She knew this version of Ericka. She had worked alongside her for months. But now she'd seen more—something raw and real beneath the surface.
And she wasn't going to forget that.
Not now.
Not ever.
Still, Amanda told herself she could do this.
She could keep showing up. Keep doing her job. Keep pretending nothing had changed—even if everything had.
What they'd shared was real. She knew it.
But for now, she'd carry it quietly.
Behind every email.
Behind every clipped agenda.
Behind every glance Ericka didn't give her.
Because love—whatever this was—wasn't always loud.
Sometimes, it looked a lot like patience.
And Amanda had plenty of that.