Chapter 4
After lunch, it’s more training, more adjustments, more late-afternoon debugging.
"Man, you need a nap. You look like you’re about to pass out."
"Yeah. I know."
Sarah gives me a look I don’t want to interpret. "You sure you're okay to make it home tonight?"
I force a smile. "I… I’ll be fine."
I don't know if I believe that.
But I know one thing:
I cannot keep coming home this drained, this empty, this version of myself around Gabby. Not when she deserves better.
I don't even realize that I'm being roused awake until my eyelids fly open, and I come to the realization that Sarah has been talking to me, her hand on my chest, rubbing me gently to get me to wake up.
"Wait, what?" I murmur.
"You fell asleep? Wow. Oh my god. This is unacceptable," Sarah exclaims.
"I'm sorry," I mutter.
"Don’t be sorry," she insists.
She looks around quickly, then pulls my wrist, guiding me into another section of the break room where there’s less traffic, fewer people who might notice.
Sarah always looks put-together in a way that doesn’t even seem possible in a place like Helion.
Her amber hair, that mix between a dirty blonde and something warmer, is tied into a tight ponytail, but the wavy strands still fall down her back, wild and free, like her.
She’s always upbeat, always in good spirits, almost too bright for this building.
She’s like a light in this place, and I have to admit it’s nice working around her.
But she also always pays me special attention. Too much sometimes. And ever since I set the boundary, I’ve been careful not to give her even an inch. People tend to test boundaries. People tend to override them.
She stands in front of me now, eyes studying me way more closely than any coworker should.
"What's going on with you? I know that you're working very hard," she asks gently.
I exhale, leaning against the table behind me, rubbing the back of my neck. Sarah crosses her arms, waiting, always patient, always watching me.
Maybe it's because I’m very tired, but I notice more details about her face. Her mouth looks like water when she speaks.
She continues, softer now, "I know our work is nonstop. Actually, it's draining. I get that what we’re building is important. It’s important to you. And I get it… you want to give it everything you’ve got. But you have to take care of yourself too."
"I'm doing all of this now so I can get a good position in the… mmm so I can get a good position in the company or keep that position later, and that we're working towards something,” I slur tiredly, feeling like I’m about to topple over.
Sarah’s expression tenders.
"Why don't you take a nap in here, and I'll cover for you?" she offers. "Just fifteen minutes. You’re barely staying upright."
I shake my head immediately.
"No. I… um… I appreciate you trying to st… trying to stand in for me, but I can't," I answer tiredly.
And I mean it. Not because I don’t want the break. But because taking it from her feels like crossing a line I’ve already warned her not to approach.
"But you can't keep going on like this. You're barely able to stay awake," Sarah says, concern tightening her voice.
"I just need some more coffee," I mutter.
God I sound like the undead.
"I think you've drank about three cups, haven't you?" she asks.
"I think four," I admit.
"I mean let's be honest you're so tired. It's not like we can count on your ability to keep track of anything right now," she teases, smiling.
And I can't help myself, I smile back. Even exhausted, her energy is infectious.
She feels like an extension of me. Kind of is. We’re around each other every single day almost for most of the day. Naturally… things…
…
… My brain can’t right now.
"Tell you what, I have a great idea," she pipes up suddenly. "Follow me."
I blink.
"No excuses. Follow me. You wanna stay awake, right? And not get a heart attack by ingesting another bathtub of coffee?" she asks.
I’m actually curious now. "What do you have in mind?"
She smiles at me mischievously.
"A little bit of physical activity."
Immediately, the deep part of my mind, the tired, unfiltered part, goes somewhere dirty. God, I hope that's not what she means, because there's no way in hell that's happening between us. When people say physical activity with the look she just gave, it usually means sex.
And yeah… I miss having sex. If I have sex with my wife, I barely remember it lately because I'm always in a constant state of over exhaustion. Most of what I give is toward my work, and even then I'm running on empty.
Sarah is an attractive woman, and anybody who wanted to have sex with her would probably have a good time.
But not me. I’m married.
Something I keep reminding myself of over and over again in this moment.
Maybe it's because I'm tired and my lizard brain has taken over. Maybe it's because I’m staring at Sarah’s beautiful body in her red blouse and dress pants and red high heels.
She always dresses so well. Always put-together. Always… intentional.
Sarah makes eye contact with me, and that’s when I realize I’ve been staring.
"I'm sorry. What?" I ask, snapping out of whatever daze I’d fallen into.
"Are you checking me out?" Sarah questions, one eyebrow lifted.
"No. Why would I—no. I'm not—" I start to stutter, heat creeping up my neck.
"It's okay if you are. I know I'm pretty," she replies lightly.
"Sarah, don't," I laugh, trying to brush it off.
Yeah, I was checking her out… but not like that. It was more absentminded than anything. And honestly, is it really wrong if a married man checks out another woman? Gabby knows I like pretty women, but it doesn’t mean anything past that. It doesn’t go anywhere past that.
"Why do you think I dress like this?" Sarah teases. "I like guys looking at me."
"Sarah," I warn, flustered.
"I'm just joking with you. But truthfully, if you wanna look at me, I don't mind. Your wife is very beautiful. I've seen her picture. And I'm sure men stare at her too and they're married."
"Oh my god. Please stop," I groan, feeling my face get red.
She always does this; the constant flirting.
She does it with other people too, but with me she seems to take a sort of sick satisfaction in making me uncomfortable.
Normally I’d shut it down harder, but I’m too tired right now.
So I let out a tired laugh, recognizing that it’s just Sarah’s way of doing things.
At least… I think it is. She does it with everybody. Even some of the girls.
She pushes open the back door that leads to the walkway outside, and before I know it, we’re heading toward the small park near the building; the one employees sometimes use to decompress.
"This is where I used to run," Sarah explains as we move through the trees. "But there’s a little section people don’t really know about. There’s a hidden fountain. A lot of people go to it."
We reach a bush-covered alcove, and she pulls the branches apart. Sure enough, there’s a tiny circular pool in the middle, water trickling down from a stone spout. Little fish dart around near the bottom, flashes of gold and silver.
Before I can process it, Sarah starts peeling off her blouse.
My whole body freezes. What the hell?
She has a little light vest underneath, thin but decent enough to not be inappropriate. She kicks off her red heels, then pulls up the bottoms of her dress pants.
Dipping her feet into the pool, she releases a breathy sigh of relief, then looks back at me with a playful tilt of her head, and beckons me over.
"I’m not putting my foot in that," I mutter under my breath, not even sure why that’s the phrase that slips out.
"Come on. I did it, so don't be a pussy," Sarah fires back.
"Sarah, I—Jesus Christ, we need to get back," I exclaim, looking around nervously.
"Would you let go and live a little bit?
If you stay stuck up and stony the entirety of your time at Helion, you're gonna become one of the robots.
And then you're gonna go insane. People don't last long here if all they do is work and not sit down and enjoy the beauty of things," she argues, leaning back on her palms.
"I'm tired. I'm not dead. And we're wasting time. And if we waste time and I lose my job—" I start.
"I promise you won't lose your job. I've done this lots of times. Come on. Sit," she urges, patting the stone beside her.
I roll my eyes but eventually sit beside her, pulling off my socks and shoes.
"There you go. Oh my god. Look at you, you risk taker," she teases, smiling brightly.
My eyes roll once more.
"Now just try to relax," Sarah instructs.
The moment my foot hits the water, I jerk it back out, splashing everywhere. I swear something just nibbled me. "What the hell is that?"
Sarah bursts into loud laughter, her head thrown back. She looks pretty like that, annoyingly so.
"It's the fish. They like nibbling your toes, but they don't hurt you," she explains through her laughter.
"Yeah. What kind of fish are those?" I ask warily.
"They're koi," she replies.
"Yeah. I bet they are," I mutter.
"You're so weird," she laughs.
We sit there with our feet in the water, and after a while… I actually feel myself relaxing. The exhaustion slowly shifts into something lighter, serenity, maybe. The cool air mixed with the cool water on my feet feels better than I expected. Calmer. Like something in me is finally unclenching.
"You feel a little bit more awake, little less hopeless?" she asks.
Smiling, I look ahead at the rippling water. "Yeah. Actually, surprisingly so."
"There you go. My fountain of youth. Success," she declares proudly.
I laugh, feeling more alive than I have in days, and we start getting ready to head back up to the building.
-??-