Chapter 8 Eight

AIDA

I couldn't even look Caleb in the face as I followed mercy outside By the time I stepped out of my cubicle, my chest felt tight. Not because of work. Not because of Mercy's sudden intrusion. But because I could feel Caleb's eyes burning holes into my back. I wasn't ready to have any conversations with him just yet till he was ready to be reasonable since he thinks I always try to get with every guy I smiled with. Even though I already promised him not to do anything stupid, I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be truly loved and not controlled I didn't even understand my anger........was I even angry? I don't even know what I'm feeling. Mike waited a few steps away, hands tucked casually into his pockets, posture relaxed like he was the first time I saw him. He had this aura. I just can't place my fingers on it. His face was neutral, too neutral. Definitely not giving out any room for me to decipher his thoughts. But I caught it. The slight tightening of his jaw. The way his shoulders stiffened for half a second when Mercy mentioned his name. "Are you okay?" Mercy asked, already walking ahead of me. "Yes," I lied automatically. She didn't press it. Mercy rarely did. "Shall we?" he asked quietly, gesturing toward the hallway. I nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this over with." "Sorry," he said quietly as we started walking. "I didn't mean to... interrupt anything." I let out a short laugh. "You didn't." "Well it seems like I'm the reason you were dragged out of your office like that" His voice was calm. We moved past the glass partitions, the low hum of printers and keyboards filling the space between us. I kept my eyes forward, professional mask firmly in place. "This place can be confusing at first," I said. "But you'll get used to it." "I believe you," he replied. "You look like someone who knows her way around chaos." I glanced at him. "That obvious?" A corner of his mouth lifted. "A little." We reached the records room first. I pushed the door open and flicked on the light. "All archived documents go here. Nothing leaves without sign-out approval." I explained filing systems. Where confidential documents were kept. What not to touch unless instructed. Mike listened. Really listened. "You sound like someone who's been here too long," he said lightly. "I've been here long enough," I replied. There were huge piles of books in this room, which made it scary. I rarely come here, I always had someone get something for me. I couldn't help but notice how close he was standing behind me. That was when I realized how small this place was. The records room had always felt big when I wasn't alone in it. Rows of tall metal shelves, stacked with files that smelled like dust and old paper. But with Mike standing just a breath away, the space shrank. Or maybe I did. I shifted slightly, trying to create distance, but the shelf dug into my hip. Of course. I cleared my throat. "So... um. These files are arranged chronologically. Older records on the left, recent ones on the right." "I'll try not to get lost," he said. His voice was closer now. Too close. I felt it then, his presence. Not loud. Not aggressive. Just... there. Solid. Calm. Like he knew exactly how much space he was taking up and was doing it on purpose?. I turned halfway, meaning to face him properly, but that only made things worse. We were almost chest to chest. For a second, neither of us moved. I became painfully aware of how tall he was. How I had to tilt my head slightly to look at him. How his eyes dropped, not to my chest, thankfully but to my lips, before lifting back up again like he'd caught himself. Something warm curled low in my stomach. Ridiculous. "Do you usually stand this close during orientations?" he asked, voice low, teasing. I scoffed, stepping sideways. "Only when the trainee refuses to respect personal space." "Duly noted." He smiled then. Just enough to show he was amused. Was he flirting with me?. We moved on to the printing section. The noise helped machines whirring, paper sliding out, staff moving around. Normalcy rushed back in, grounding me. "This area is always busy," I explained. "If you send a job late, it won't be ready until the next day. People get annoyed about that." "Nigerians are always angry, what's there to be happy about in this economy ," he said. I laughed before I could stop myself. He glanced at me. "There it is." "What?" "That laugh. It sounds like you don't do it often." I shrugged. "Work doesn't exactly inspire joy." "And yet," he said, looking around, "you run this place like it's your kingdom." I snorted. "Hardly." "But people listen to you," he continued. "That says something." "Mr Biodun runs this place" I didn't know why I said that, so I focused on showing him how to operate the printer. "Yesterday," he added, casually but not too casually. "At the restaurant." My heart skipped. Just once. "I wasn't sure if you noticed," he continued, eyes focused somewhere past me, "but... yeah. Small world." "I noticed," I said quickly. Too quickly. "Lagos is like that." He smiled. "True." He didn't mention the girl. We reached the IT support window last. I explained who to contact, what not to touch. "You're surprisingly patient," he said. "Don't let it fool you." "I won't." Silence stretched between us. . Then he spoke again. " I hope I didn't make things uncomfortable." I swallowed. "You didn't." "You left early." "I had to." He studied me, like he was piecing something together but choosing not to ask. "That guy," he said finally. "At your office." My heart sank. "Caleb." "Is he...?" "My boyfriend," I said, before I could think better of it. He nodded once. . "Lucky guy," he said. I laughed, sharp and humorless. "That's one way to put it." We headed back upstairs after I showed him other important rooms on our floor. As we passed the glass partition, I felt it. Caleb's eyes on my back. Burning. Watching. As I sat down on my desk, my phone buzzed Caleb. A short paragraph. WE NEED TO TALK.