floating | ✓

45| epilogue

I take the file and check the report for our new project.
“That one will be sent,” I close the file after skimming over it. It looks great.

I look at Oliver and nod. He nods back.

Oliver is the head of the innovation department of Bradbury- Carlson Ltd. He is the BoB, as in the brain of the brain of our company. Oliver and his co-workers in his department are the brains of this office, as they come up with new ideas.

I have heard they call me ‘angry woman’ behind my back, but that might be Oliver’s doing.

Oliver has managed to keep his reputation of not smiling, not talking, not engaging with anyone else in the office. Although, once I heard him laugh with his people while walking by his lab. As soon as I peeked inside, they stopped.

Sometimes I hate the fact I’m the CEO, or that I’m nicknamed ‘angry woman.’ I am just trying to keep everything under control. That’s not easy work.

I have been successful so far, other than Oliver’s department. The thing about that department is that no matter how hard I try, I can’t discipline them. They will arrive and leave the office whenever they please. Once I found a guy walking in at 11 am in a pair of sleepers. I had to scold him just so he didn’t make other people demoralized. And then he, with a low voice, told me that he’s allowed to wear sleepers and also come in whenever he pleases because Mr. Oliver Carlson allows so.

Son of a—

“So, dear wifey, when will we be heading home?” Oliver asks, leaning forward.

I roll my eyes. I have six more emails to check. Here, look at Oliver, already done with his work and now messing with me. This happens most of the time. And then there might be days when he doesn’t even set foot in the office.

I have seen the opposite too, when he won’t leave the lab because God knows when he gets another amazing idea. He also has a lab at home in the basement, where he vanishes sometimes.

“It will take time,” I let Oliver know as my eyes catch on the golden ring on his finger.

My heart skips a beat.

It has been a year since we got married. So yeah, I don’t blame my heart when it skips a beat every time I see the ring and realize, yeah, it’s true. We are married.

“Hmm,” Oliver mumbles, lost in his thoughts.

I write another one of my emails, answering a question from an employee.

I feel someone’s leg brushing with mine.

It has to be Oliver. He’s sitting across from me. He’s the only other person in this room, other than some ghosts that may be under my desk.

I don’t pay attention and keep typing.

I feel another brush and look up. Oliver is doing something on his phone.

A few moments of typing later, I feel his legs moving. Oliver has his legs crossed behind mine.

Old habits die hard.

I feel my cheek heat up a little. Oliver doing what he’s doing now has never brought something good.

Or may I say, it has never brought something bad.

At school, things were child-like. We used to sneak behind aisles in the library or the back of the school. At college, oh well. Now?

You may not ask. I like to keep things behind closed doors in our bedroom.

Oliver Carlson has ideas. He doesn’t only invent new robots or devices. He likes to innovate and come up with other kinds of stuff as well. Use your imagination here.