The evening air was cool and quiet, the kind that settled over the city like a hush after a long day.
I curled up on my couch, still dressed in my olive-green sundress, my heels abandoned by the door.
The remnants of sunlight faded through the windows, casting soft amber shadows on the walls.
I held my phone in one hand, scrolling mindlessly through messages and posts, a faint smile still lingering from the afternoon with Joe.
His touch, his kiss, replayed like a slow melody in her memory.
Then the screen lit up with a new message.
Mr. Michael.
I blinked, sitting up straighter.
He never texted me at this time. Ever.
My thumb hovered over the screen as I opened the message.
Mr. Michael:
"I hope your day has been restful, Ella. I wasn't sure if I should say this, but thank you for being who you are.
You bring something rare into this office. Into my life. Sleep well."
I stared.
There was nothing overtly inappropriate about the message.
No crossed lines. But something in the phrasing… "into my life"...
It lingered in the air like perfume, delicate, but unmistakable.
Was it gratitude? Admiration? Or… something more?
My fingers hesitated above the keyboard. Should I reply? Should I ignore it?
My mind raced.
This wasn't the first time Mr. Michael had been kind.
However, he was always reserved and calculated. Now, this message felt… personal.
And for the first time, I wondered:
Was the day off really about her performance, or something else entirely?
The silence in the room felt louder than before.
Just as I began typing a polite reply, my phone buzzed again.
Mr. Michael:
"Sorry if that was too forward. Long day. Good night, Ella."
I stared at the screen, heart thudding now for a different reason.
I set the phone down slowly on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch cushions.
My thoughts were no longer filled with just Joe's smile or the taste of sweet chili.
Now, something else was there too.
Something unspoken.
Something unexpected.
Something in the way Mr. Michael said my name.
"Mixed Signals"
I lay awake in bed long after the city lights had dimmed outside my window.
The soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional sound of a distant car were the only signs that the world hadn't stopped moving, but inside me, everything felt like it had.
I turned to my side, phone resting near my pillow like it might whisper answers if I stared long enough.
Joe's kiss still lingered on my lips.
His warm laughter.
The spark between us today.
It had all felt so right.
But then there was that message.
Mr. Michael's words had burrowed into her mind, playing on a loop like a song I couldn't stop humming.
"You bring something rare into this office. Into my life."
I had reread it too many times, dissecting every word.
He could've meant it professionally. A compliment. Maybe even an awkwardly worded thank-you.
But my gut said otherwise.
Why now? Why today, after telling me to take the day off?
I rubbed my temples.
Joe and Mr. Michael were nothing alike. Joe was easy, warm, and teasing.
Mr. Michael was all edges, measured, and composed.
Until now.
And that's what unsettled me the most.
Because I had always liked things to be clean. Clear. Predictable.
But now?
The lines were blurring.
And somewhere between my feelings for Joe and the odd flutter in my chest when I read Michael's message, I realized something I hadn't wanted to admit:
I didn't know what I wanted.
The worst part was that I knew I couldn't ask either of them. Not yet.
Not without shaking something loose, I wasn't ready to break.
So instead, I curled tighter under my blanket, the scent of today, coffee, perfume, memory, still clinging to my skin.
Tomorrow, I will see Mr. Michael again.
Tomorrow, I would smile at Joe like nothing was wrong.
But tonight, I let myself feel the full weight of my confusion, unsure of where my heart was pulling me… only knowing it was no longer as simple as I wanted it to be.