A familiar shadow I'm the night

A familiar shadow I'm the night
JESSICA'S POV

The soft whispers of gossips and clicking keyboards blended into a serene working environment.

Sunlight invaded the company through the large glass panels, casting glowing rectangles across the floor. The scent of lemon polish still filled in the air, mixing with freshly brewed coffee shooting out from a small kitchenette tucked into the corner of the room.

I sat quietly at my desk, a modern white slab beside a wide window that gave me a perfect view of the city skyline. The desk was already when appointed to me, my name neatly printed on a small metallic plate at the corner. Beside it, a framed quote read "Art speaks where words are unable to explain.” It made me smile everytime I came back to work to find it there. Whoever placed it there knew how to make a new person feel welcomed.

It wasn't like what I had in my previous workplace. Even though the arrangement was beautiful enough, it still didn't match the one I currently have.

Conversations boomed like loud music around me. Laughter erupted now and then, and every now and again someone would peek over their monitor to wave at me or offer a smile. The warmth was unexpected and one would even say comforting.

It always felt weird the way everyone showed kindness here. I felt like I was in a TV series where everyone pretended to be good but their true intentions became known in the later episodes.

Marshall walked in carrying two cups of coffee. His eyes lit up when he saw me still sitting. “Still alive?” he grinned, handing me one of the cups. Our jokes have seemed to settle in and humor became our first language of communication.

I chuckled. “Barely. I thought I’d be nervous longer, but everyone’s been so kind.”

Marshall leaned casually against my desk. “Told you we’re family here.”

As I sipped the coffee, I noticed a silver ring glinting on Marshall’s left hand. A sleek band with an engraved symbol I couldn’t quite make out.

“Nice ring,” I commented trying to find out its origin. “Is that...?”

Marshall’s face softened with pride. “My boyfriend gave it to me. Custom made.” His voice carried no hesitance, just quiet joy. “He’s a graphic designer. He actually works on the thirteenth floor. So, in case I ever need to see my man, I'll just use the elevator.”

I blinked, pleasantly surprised at his preference. “You never struck me as the romantic type.”

He laughed. “Don’t let the suit fool you. I’m all sap underneath. Just wait till we see each other. Don't worry. I promise, you’ll meet him before this week ends.”

I smiled, feeling oddly relieved. For some reason, I had wondered if Marshall might become something more in my life. But this clarity erased any lingering daydreams. I liked knowing who he was. It made the space feel more honest.

Later in the day, while organizing some digital files in the assistant's room, I overheard hushed voices floating from just outside the hallway.

“...she’s the new girl, right?”

“Yeah. Jessica something. i heard she worked at the Opaque Gallery before.”

“Mmhmm. You know how she got this job, right? Darren doesn’t just hire anyone. Someone vouched for her.”

“Someone important?”

A scoff. “Please. David. We all know he's the only one capable of twisting Darren’s mind the way he wishes without Darren having any form of objection.”

The air around me thickened. My hands froze mid-click on the mouse.

“David as in the tall David that comes in here once in a while? The one that looks dangerous?” the second voice whispered in disbelief.

“Yup. Word is, he pulled some strings. She didn’t just apply. Her name was on the shortlist before the position even opened. I'm not even sure. I think they had to fire someone just to let her in because we all know Darren doesn't like crowds. But of course, David's needs had to be met.”

My throat ran dry. I backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound. The voices faded as the two women walked further down the corridor, still immersed in their gossip.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I returned to my desk. I sat down slowly, the chair creaking under my weight, though it had not made a sound all day. The coffee from earlier now tasted bitter on my tongue.

So this was it.

All this warmth, all this wonder. It wasn’t born out of merit. Not entirely. It was David. Again.

I looked around the room, suddenly noticing the details that had once charmed me, the neatly prepared desk, the framed quote, the perfectly smooth welcome. It had all felt so magical, so earned. But now it felt... tainted. Fake. Chosen for me.

I pressed her fingertips to my forehead, trying to calm my racing thoughts. So much for an independent woman.

Why? Why couldn’t he just let me go? Why plant invisible fingerprints on my life? Even now, when I had worked so hard to reclaim control, he was still there. Always there. Hiding behind doors I didn’t even know existed.

My fingers curled into fists on my lap.

Maybe it was a gesture of kindness. Maybe he thought he was helping.

But it didn’t feel like help.

It felt like possession. The way I've always felt ever since I met him. Always telling me what to do. “Jessica, don't go here.” “Jessica, stay away from the window.”

I exhaled, slow and steady. The art on the walls still shimmered under the lights. My coworkers still laughed and shared jokes like they were having a family dinner. Marshall still smiled as he walked past my desk, not knowing the storm behind my expression.

Was he aware of how I got my job? He didn't seem to know. He looked too innocent to know.

But something had shifted.

I whispered the words under my breath, not with pride this time, but with hollow iro
ny:
“Independent woman.”

And for the first time today, I didn’t believe them.