Pastel Dreams || editing

twenty one - gratin dauphinois

Edith answered on the third ring, her voice deeper than usual and with occasional sniffles.

"Ms. G-"

"Okay, either you have a cold, or you've been crying," I interrupted, concerned. "But I know you don't have a cold."

Edith was like a loyal soldier, always hardworking, never complaining.

I had never heard her talk about her personal life before, since she was always making efforts to be more professional.

"It's nothing, Ms. G," she bravely answered, "don't worry about me. I'm a big girl, I can handle it. Did you need anything?"

"I know you can, I couldn't be worried less than you can, but I'm in my pajamas, and I was wondering if you wanted to come for a bit? I've got plenty of room."

"I-"

"You don't have to," I immediately assured her, feeling guilty that I, as her employer, might be using my power on her.

"That sounds nice, actually," she said quietly.

"Great! See you in a bit."

She made her appearance in a plush robe, with bright green socks, hotel slippers and still puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

Her shoulder-length hair resembled a curtain of spaghetti strands, and she smiled sheepishly when I let her in, grinning wide.

"Welcome to my modest abode," I teased, closing the door behind me.

"I ordered some French wine, I hope you want some," I winked, urging her to follow me as she awkwardly stood near the door.

"That would be great, thank you," she said with a nervous laugh.

We settled on the vast array of couches, all following a cream-white color scheme.

"Tell me everything."

And so she did, and by the end of it I learned that independent, hard-working Edith was, or had been, rather, in a tumultuous relationship with a misogynistic cheater.

She had held in the desire to kick him out numerous times, but he had something about him, she told me, he'd just say sweet words and expect her to come running back to him, which she did. But when I had called, she had been on the phone with her best friend, Thomas, who informed her Stanislas had cheated on her, again.

"I just don't understand how I wasted three years of my life with him," Edith kept saying, gesturing wildly, like I learned she did when she had had a drink.

"You're free now," I pointed out, amused at her gestures. I liked how comfortable I felt in her presence, despite not doubting that this is partly due to the wine.

"That's the thing, I'm actually not. The apartment we moved in together was partially paid by his parents, who obsessively are a big part of Stan's life, and I have to get a new one, to be freed of him forever, or so to say. The thing is, I've been saving for it for a while now, but I'm not quite there yet, despite you paying me way more what we'd initially agreed on. But now that this has happened once again, I can't bear to stay with him any longer."

"Have mine, then," I promptly offered.

Her eyes widened significantly at my words, but she was already shaking her head.

"I can't accept it, Ms. G."

"Yes, you can. It's not that difficult, actually. I lease it to you, since I recently bought the building. Although, nobody knows that, except my finances advisor, so I'd rather you not tell everyone, but you can stay in it for sure."