The Dream Before the Dark ✓

11 | Burning Bridges

JEN WAS EVEN MORE NERVOUS to go into work the next morning than she'd been on her first day. She strongly considered calling in sick, but that would only get her so far—what was she to do tomorrow? She could only avoid Robert for so long.

Though she had given him the very poor excuse when she ran away from him last night that she needed to sleep, her brain had gone into a frantic overdrive when she collapsed onto the couch and what had just occurred really began to sink in.

She'd groaned and put her face in her hands. This was a disaster—a disaster that was utterly blissful in the moment, but still a disaster.

Maybe it would all be fine. Maybe it was a mistake on his end, a wine-induced decision made in the heat of the moment that didn't actually mean very much to him. But how was she going to figure that out without talking to him?

Her hands suddenly dropped to her sides. The letter. He gave her a letter. Perhaps it would give her some clarity, a glimpse into his mind and his heart.

She had completely forgotten about his note over the course of dinner, but now she rushed to her bedroom to grab it from where she'd placed it on her nightstand. She read it several times, making sure she absorbed every word.

2/12/92

Dear Jen,

Writing these usually comes pretty naturally to me, but I've tried starting this one three times already and can't seem to find the right words. It could be that I am simply overthinking things, but I wonder if perhaps it is that I don't know my feelings well enough to even understand them myself, much less adequately convey them to you.

Regardless, everything I've written sounds somehow wrong to me, so I'll spare you the trouble of reading my ramblings and leave it at this –

It has been a privilege to get to know you, and reading your letters has brightened my days considerably. I hope you have a wonderful birthday.

Italian Lesson of the Day:

Buon Compleanno = Happy Birthday

Yours Truly,

Robert

Reading that she brightened his days considerably normally would have been enough to send her head spinning with giddy thoughts, but now that she knew what it was like to kiss him, to feel like she was both drowning in him and learning how to breathe for the very first time, her mind had trouble honing in on the compliment and instead latched itself onto the first paragraph.

It could be that I am simply overthinking things, but I wonder if perhaps it is that I don't know my feelings well enough to even understand them myself, much less adequately convey them to you.

She cast the note aside in frustration. Was kissing her his way of telling her how he felt? Or was it his way of figuring that out?

With a jolt of horror, it dawned on her that it was entirely possible that he'd thought he felt something for her, kissed her to test his emotions, and then realized he felt nothing. That he didn't pull back from her because they were co-workers, but because he simply didn't want to be kissing her. Had she humiliated herself by kissing him back? Accidentally revealed feelings that were unrequited?

For the second time that day, Jen thought about Jude's words of caution to her. You should go make friends if you want to, just be careful what you do in front of them outside of work. You know the rules here are really strict and I don't want anything getting back to Nora.