It’s Monday morning and I’m up bright and early to get ready for work. Okay, technically early, yes. Bright? Not so much… It’s more like tired, slow, and mildly resentful at the betrayal of my alarm clock. But I’m up. And I’m going. It’s going to be my first day back at work after everything, and I’m weirdly anxious about it. I thought I’d be more excited given how much I’ve missed my job. But the reality of going back to normal after all that time off has my stomach in knots. Still, I’m looking forward to doing something I’m good at. Something I understand. It’s not that I don’t love the people in my life, but there have been a lot of bizarre twists and turns lately and I have spent an awful lot of time completely out of my depth. But when it comes to computers? I’m solid. They’re logical, predictable. My domain. I’ve missed that feeling of competence. I take my time getting ready, making sure my hair, makeup, and outfit are perfect. I know I’ll spend most of the day catching up on help desk tickets and pushing security updates no one reads, but I’ll feel better if I’m put together. Besides, I’ve spent far too many days in pyjamas lately. It’s time to look, feel and act like myself again. Lukas is in his work clothes too. A button up, tailored slacks and a tie. Not a wrinkle in sight. He woke up even earlier than I did and took Roxy for a quick drive. He wanted to drop her off at his place so she wouldn’t be stuck here all day since I don’t have a yard or doggie door and won’t be home to let her out. But Lukas is back and he’s been waiting patiently in the living room for the last few minutes. Or, more accurately, TRYING to look patient. He pops his head into my room, calm and composed, but I know him well enough now to catch the edge in his voice.
“Are you ready to go?” He asks. Translation: It’s eight forty-six and we were supposed to leave at eight forty-five. Please don’t make me be late.
“Almost, I just need shoes. Or, well… One shoe.” I glance down at the black cast still strapped around my ankle and sigh. It really doesn’t go with my outfit. All I want is to wear my cute heels again. But crutches and heels are a guaranteed recipe for disaster.
“I’ll get it.” Lukas says immediately, already crossing the room. Whether he’s being helpful or trying to keep us on schedule is up for debate. He crouches down and helps me slide into a black ballet flat. It’s better than the grippy socks at least. Not that I don’t appreciate them, but they REALLY wouldn’t look good with my outfit.
“Ready?” Lukas asks again, eyes scanning me for any other delays. I laugh and hold out my hand.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” I agree. He pulls me up with practiced ease and grabs my bag for me on the way out, slipping it over his shoulder like he’s done it a hundred times before. It’s such a small moment, but there’s something about it that makes the knot in my chest loosen just a little. Today might feel weird. But Lukas will be just upstairs if I need anything, so I’ll be just fine.
The day feels both way too long and way too short. Long, because I’m still tiring easily. By lunchtime, I’m already dragging, and every trip down the hallway on crutches feels like a minor quest. But short because I have so much work to catch up on, it’s actually a little overwhelming.
You’d think SOMEONE would have covered my job while I was away. Some kind of backup plan. A system. A single competent adult human. Nope. Apparently HR just told everyone to ‘figure it out,’ which translates to: leave everything to Clare when she gets back. So now I’m facing a digital apocalypse of broken printers, locked accounts, improperly filed tech tickets, and, somehow, at least five computers that are so riddled with viruses, they won’t even turn on anymore. The worst part? The lawyers who tried to fix things themselves. Which, of course, has only made it worse. It’s not even two o’clock and I already want to scream into a server rack. Lukas checks in on me multiple times throughout the day. He shows up with snacks and coffee, or just to place a quiet hand on my shoulder. Sometimes he takes my hand, gives it a small squeeze before slipping back out. I don’t know if he’s checking on me emotionally, or if he’s just used to being close. Maybe both. Either way, it helps. At the end of the day, he’s already waiting outside my office door when I finally hobble out, overworked and aching.
“So.” He starts, as we’re driving back to my place.
“I’ll drop you home, then go get Roxy from my place, then bring her back to yours.” Lukas explains his plan. I blink, then sigh.
“That makes no sense. You’ll just have to drop her off again tomorrow morning.” I point out. He doesn’t live THAT far, but no one enjoys an extra forty minutes of driving first thing in the morning. Lukas frowns slightly.
“Well… Then how would you do it?” He asks. I bite my lip. It’s not a big deal. There’s no reason why he HAS to stay at my place… Right?
“I guess you could just… Drop me off, then come back in the morning to pick me up for work?” I suggest, a little reluctantly. Lukas makes a noise. A small, displeased sound deep in his throat.
“What?” I ask, wary.
“That plan won’t work.” He says bluntly.
“Why not?” I frown. It’s a logical plan. Lukas likes logical plans.
“Because last time I went home, you cried.” He replies matter of factly. I go bright red.
“That… That was different. I was tired and emotional. I’m fine now.” I insist. He just shakes his head.
“Not happening.” He says firmly.
“Lukas…” I say, exasperated.
“Seriously?” I demand.
“Seriously.” He replies again, calm but unmoving.
“We haven’t talked about it yet, why you got so upset. Until we do, I’m not risking it happening again.” He says, his tone leaving no space for argument. He pulls up in front of my place, shifts the car into park, and turns off the engine. Then he gets out of the car, walks around and opens my door. He stands with one hand on the roof of the car, leaning down and looking at me.
“So you’re saying…” I trail off, heart pounding.
“I’m not going home until we have that conversation.” He says. His tone is perfectly steady. No drama. No pressure. Just absolute certainty.
“So either I’m dropping Roxy off and coming back to your place…” He pauses.
“Or we talk. Right now.” He says firmly. Then he holds out a hand to me, waiting to help me out of the car. I can’t tell if his words are a threat or a promise. But either way, it terrifies me. Because the only thing more terrifying than NOT knowing how Lukas feels about me… Is finding out.