Dose Ten Observations:
Subject insists on distance.
⨳ ⨳ ⨳
The next day, I woke up with firmer intentions.
I aimed not to run into her.
And I definitely wouldn’t be talking to her.
There needed to be distance.
That morning, I got to Levane early for once.
I put my headphones on and only looked up when Grayson or Zion spoke to me.
Otherwise, I didn’t glance up once.
I also packed myself lunch, so I wouldn’t have to get up and leave.
That alone would risk me running into her.
I sat there for hours, determined to get in and out.
And when the clock struck four, I decided to draft an email to Kara.
Yes, Briggszilla.
She was the last person I wanted to email, but I preferred to report to her, rather than Monroe.
Distance is key.
I specifically sent Kara my end-of-day report, and quickly packed up my stuff with Zion, purposely leaving with him.
I felt drained.
Maybe it was those fluorescent lights that burned my eyes.
Or that uncomfortable office chair.
Even the fact that I sat in the same room for eight hours total.
My head was pounding, and my brain felt like it had turned to complete mush.
I couldn’t think of a single thought after how much I had done today—mentally, at least.
As soon as I was back at my apartment, I collapsed in bed, work clothes on and all.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep.
But once Jynx had cuddled up to me and I got comfortable, my eyes fell shut whether I liked it or not.
The next time I woke up, it was a little past two in the morning.
Jynx didn’t bother climbing out from underneath the covers when I got up.
She really likes her beauty sleep, so I wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
I wanted to sleep more with her, but I also needed to shower and change out of my uncomfortable work clothes.
I also had to clean Jynx’s litter box, unpack my work bag, and eat something.
I genuinely zoned out through it all, just focusing on getting each task done.
I was basically on autopilot for close to an hour.
It was a little past three when I slid back into the warm bed with Jynx, preparing to sleep three more hours before I had to get up again.
Luckily, it was Friday, so that was a little motivation for waking up.
I would finally get two days to myself.
I just had to endure eight hours at Levane, a place that felt like literal hell on earth.
I didn’t think about what Monday would bring.
I couldn’t, or else I might just lose my mind.
Instead, I focused on being excited that it was Friday.
I even factored in time to grab a chai latte at a local cafe before work.
I also grabbed Zion an espresso shot, per request.
I completely fit into the world of Levane now, wearing dark slacks, a pink blouse, and appropriate stiletto heels.
I hated that I was reduced to this.
To the standard of Levane.
One thing I truly refused to do was wear anything that came from her.
That shopping bag still sat in my closet, completely untouched.
I wasn’t sure what I would do with it moving forward—probably donate it to the women’s shelter.
“Good morning,” I announced, walking into the tech division with a wide grin on my face.
Grayson raised a skeptical brow at me. “Someone’s chipper?”
I parted my lips with a fake gasp. “Chipper—I like that. It should be a nickname.”
Grayson chuckled at me, “You can’t choose your nickname. That’s not how it works,” he said as I walked over to Zion, handing him his espresso shot.
“Thanks, Libs,” he said, flashing me a gracious smile.
“Wow,” Grayson said as I slid my bag off my arm. “Nothing for me?” he asked with a narrowed look.
I could tell he wasn’t serious, though.
“I don’t know your order, Grayson,” I pointed out blankly, setting my chai latte down on the desk.
“Frappuccinos are my go-to, for reference. A vanilla bean one with two pumps of caramel, one pump of white mocha, extra drizzle around the cup, almond milk instead of whole, double-blended so it’s smoother, and extra whipped cream on top.”
I blinked at him a few times, the most blank look on my face at his complicated order.
It was enough to make Grayson laugh. “You should write it down. You’re supposed to impress your managers, remember.”
I hummed, “You’ll get a vanilla bean Frappuccino next time with extra caramel. That’s all you’re going to get from me,” I said, sitting down in my chair.
“Oh, come on,” Grayson said, his smile growing. “I’ll call you chipper.”
I raised a brow, pretending to think this through deeper.
It was enough to earn a laugh from Zion next to me. “Are you guys serious right now?” he asked, glancing away from his computer.
“Very serious,” Grayson said, leveling his chin back with the most serious look fathomable.
It made me want to burst out laughing at him.
This conversation was genuinely hilarious, and having it at the bright hours of eight in the morning was the cherry on top.
“Do the workers not think you’re crazy when you order?” I suddenly asked Grayson. “Because now I’m imagining ordering that in public. Double-blended is an insane thing to request.”
Grayson’s serious expression cracked, his lips twitching up. “I like being insane,” he determined.
I sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll take note of your order,” I finally caved.
“Thanks, chipper,” he murmured, making me roll my eyes with a smile as I focused on logging into my computer.
Then it was officially time to get to work.
I had my chai latte, a Pop-Tart packed in my bag, and even a lunch I prepared for myself this morning.
It was only a Smucker’s PB&J sandwich, a banana, and a bag of pretzels, but I was thoroughly excited.
My morning self had the right idea for lunch.
“Happy Friday,” I heard a voice echo through my headphones playing instrumental jazz music.
It made me glance up, sliding my headphones off as my eyes landed on the redhead woman.
Dr. Wexler, I think she was.
I furrowed my brows, noticing the large metal pan she held in her hands.
There were Griffin beakers on it, holding milkshakes, I assumed, given the whipped cream and cherries on top.
Is this a normal occurrence?
“You’re a blessing, Wexler,” Grayson was the first to say, standing up amongst everyone to grab a milkshake.
I was a little stuck frozen, unsure if I should stand as well to grab one.
Are they for everyone?
I don’t even know this woman.
“Go on, then,” the redhead woman motioned her head at me and Zion. “Best not let these melt,” she said, her British accent seeping into each word she said.
I stood up without a further thought, and so did Zion, walking with me over to the woman.
“You’re the new ones,” the redhead observed as we approached her. “I’m Dr. Iris Wexler,” she formally introduced herself.
“And she likes to do Milkshake Fridays,” Grayson added, standing by her as he took a sip of his milkshake.
“Liberty Fierro,” I said with a smile as Zion reached for a milkshake first. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Zion,” my best friend suddenly said, “Lewis,” he quickly added his last name.
Iris nodded her head once, “Lovely to meet you both,” she said as I reached for one of the milkshakes.
That’s when I noticed one specifically, amongst the last few.
It was labeled with her last name.
Leclair.
I couldn’t begin to envision her drinking a milkshake.
Much less, one that she didn’t know the details about.
“Try that one,” Iris suddenly said. “The labeled ones are specially made.”
I nodded quickly, snapping out of my thoughts as I grabbed one of the other beakers.
Maybe Monroe’s had ingredients that she agreed on?
It’s still weird to think about.
Monroe sipping out of one of these beakers as she worked.
The idea made me want to smile.
Annoyingly, so.
“Thank you,” I said to Iris as I backed away with Zion.
“No bother,” she said with a nod, backing out of the tech division to probably go deliver the rest of those milkshakes she made.
That’s when I noticed her presence pass by.
It made my brows furrow immediately, a sharp breath escaping me.
She glanced over briefly, her dark brows raising just barely before her head snapped back forward.
Celia didn’t glance over again.
She just sped up her walking, her black boots clicking at a quicker, more frantic pace.
I was frozen in place, contemplating whether I had worked so much that I was having hallucinations.
Why would she be here?
Alive at least?
I assumed that if Celia was within one hundred feet of Monroe, there would be a problem to handle.
Or remove, as they do in their family.
What the fuck is going on?
“Earth to chipper,” Grayson’s voice cut into my head, diverting my stare to him. “Are you okay?”
I nodded without thinking it through. “All good,” I murmured, trying to push away my confusion. “I just—do you know that woman who passed by?”
Grayson tilted his head, glancing over at the hallway.
Then he took a few steps forward, making my eyes widen when he poked his head out into the wide hall.
“Grayson,” I whisper-yelled.
“What?” he asked, his head still poked out, observing her presence far down the hallway. “Oh yeah, I know of her,” he suddenly said, glancing over to me.
I couldn’t hide my confusion.
“Of her?” I asked, emphasizing the words he used.
Grayson nodded. “Yeah, she comes in every few weeks.”
My confusion grew even more, wanting to ask so many more questions.
But I could tell Grayson didn’t know anything.
No one probably did.
Not unless I spoke with Monroe herself.
Maybe even Sienna might’ve picked up on something, but she would take anything regarding Monroe to her grave.
So I just decided to shrug it off—or at least I tried.
Drinking the milkshake was a nice way too.
So was having the lunch that I packed myself, eating as I typed and clicked a few times on my computer.
But somehow my mind would wander back to Celia.
Back to Monroe.
I thought they hated each other.
I thought Monroe hated her—probably more than hate, but I couldn’t think of a more significant word than that.
What the fuck happened in four months to change all of that?
Or is this Leon’s doing?
Did he suddenly decide he wanted a big happy family and made everyone play along?
That’s definitely something he would do, but it doesn't make sense either.
They would only be obligated to public appearances if that's the case, and Celia is visiting Monroe at her office.
It was unnecessary to do.
And wasn't Leon trying to hide the fact that he had an affair?
I glanced over again, anticipating when Celia would walk past again.
Even if it seemed like she didn’t want to make eye contact with me earlier, much less look in my direction.
I quickly glanced back at my computer when I heard heels clicking.
There were two pairs that echoed throughout the hallway this time.
It made me draw in a deep breath, noticing the precision of the heel clicks.
At least one of them.
I didn’t dare glance over, noticing them pass by together in my peripheral vision.
I could feel my heart thumping heavily in my chest, suddenly unable to focus on my computer screen.
Still, I kept typing random coding, clicking around to pretend I was working.
But then I noticed she stopped.
Right by the tech division.
Celia kept walking down the hallway, probably toward the elevators.
But she stopped.
“Ms. Fierro.”
Her smooth voice drew everyone’s attention away from their computers.
Then they glanced right back down, not staring at her for a second longer.
I drew in a tight breath, forcing my stare to snap away from my computer screen.
And there she was.
Monroe stood tall at the open doorway, her hands clasped calmly together and her blue eyes fully on me.
She wore black pinstriped dress pants and a collared blouse, her sharpened stilettos shining under the fluorescent lights.
Her silky brown hair was up in a neat bun, her bangs framing her face.
“There’s an issue we need to speak about in my office,” Monroe calmly spoke again, her blue eyes burning into mine.
Her words made me clench my jaw, so much for avoiding her at all fucking costs.
There’s no point in refusing to speak with her right now.
Not only would it be odd to everyone around us.
But it would also draw more attention than necessary.
So I stood up, whether I wanted to or not, walking around my office chair to silently walk toward her.
I didn’t meet her stare again.
I just walked along with her, the silence heavy between us.
I could feel her irritation for some reason.
Maybe it was how sharply she walked.
Or her tense posture.
I already knew why she wanted to speak with me, and it has to do with yesterday’s end-of-day report.
“Sienna,” I smiled purposefully as we passed her.
She nodded in response, but before she could say anything, Monroe was already opening her office door and motioning me inside.
I let out the deepest sigh, walking into the familiar office full of reluctance.
It was silent even as she closed the door behind me, but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t going to speak first.
I barely wanted to speak at all.
So I just walked over to the wall of windows, purposely putting distance between me and her.
“I didn’t receive your end-of-day report yesterday,” I heard her soft voice echo as I focused on the cars driving on the street below. “Someone else received it instead.”
“I know,” was all I said, my eyes following the red car on the street as it drove past the stoplight.
Everything looked so tiny from up here.
“I explicitly stated that you report to me,” Monroe said, and I could feel her stare on me even if I wasn’t facing her. “You agreed to these terms.”
“Do you have my agreement in writing?” I casually murmured.
“Liberty.”
I could hear the warning in her voice, telling me not to push further.
“Why was Celia here?” I suddenly asked, unable to help my curiosity.
I heard her let out a deep exhale—I could even envision her chest deflating with it.
“You know better than to do that,” was all she said in response.
“What?” I asked, suddenly turning around to meet her pinpointed stare. “Ask why she was here?”
“Saying her name,” Monroe emphasized.
I clenched my jaw, trying to fight the goosebumps on the back of my neck.
But it’s the way she’s looking at me right now.
How darkened her stare felt.
Or her hands visibly clasped tighter, like she was trying to keep herself restrained.
“I don’t say my assistant’s name aloud,” Monroe suddenly said, her stare not wavering from mine.
“I never asked you not to,” I shrugged, even if her words alone made my face feel even warmer.
“At some point in time, you did,” she corrected, her blue eyes nearly sinking into mine from across the room.
I feel suffocated, suddenly.
“We’re on a different timeline now,” I determined, glancing away from her stare. “Why was she here?”
“Different timeline,” Monroe echoed my words, tilting her head just enough to emphasize her jawline. “ Very well. I’ll say her name then.”
I lazily raised my brows. “Say her name. I couldn’t care less.”
“Sienna has her name back,” she said, earning a soft hum from me. “Noted.”
“Glad we could note this,” I murmured, trying not to be irritated by her name echoed into the air by Monroe herself, “I’m leaving now,” I determined, taking a few steps forward.
“You report to me, Liberty,” Monroe repeated yet again, her tone firmer with me.
“No,” I didn’t hesitate to say.
And before she could say anything else, I took another step forward, my ears burning as if someone had lit them on fire.
“We need distance. I want distance,” I emphasized, my stare not wavering from her. “You want distance, too. You wanted it originally.”
I didn’t mean for my voice to grow louder, but it did.
It echoed all around us.
Maybe it was the sugar high I was crashing from after drinking that milkshake.
Or it was the constant headache that I always get whenever I set foot inside this building.
Or it was just her.
Monroe standing there, and me just feet away from her when I needed oceans between us.
“I don’t disagree, given the circumstances,” Monroe calmly said, suddenly unclasping her hands. “That doesn’t mean that I’m obligated to let you work under someone who constantly gives you a hard time. And I’m surely not obligated to let you break down in that hallway, or overwork yourself past your set schedule, Liberty.”
“Yes, you are,” I emphasized, throwing my head back with an annoyed sigh. “You are because none of these are your obligation anymore. You are just my boss at the company I work for. Nothing else. You’ll never be anything else to me.”
Silence.
That’s all I was met with as I met her stare again.
I could feel something shift in the air between us.
I could see it too.
On her face, behind her eyes, specifically.
I didn’t care.
I told myself I didn’t care.
“I just want you to leave me alone. Forever,” I suddenly added without further thought, my words coated in frustration.
“Forever,” Monroe echoed the word I used, her voice still calm, but it was so lowered between us, barely a murmur in the air.
The word was a statement from her lips, but really it sounded like a question.
The way she was looking at me—how her blue eyes sunk into mine.
She was asking, forever?
“Forever. I wouldn’t be here if I knew what I was signing up for. If I knew you were going to be here,” I rushed out, my face burning up.
“I’m glad you ended up here,” she suddenly admitted, making everything disintegrate around me. “It’s selfish. I said I wouldn’t be, but then you’re standing here, and—” she briefly paused, her blue eyes trailing my face with a look that I couldn't quite recognize. “All I can feel is grateful, Liberty.”
Her words were in a soft whisper, heavy with honesty.
She was looking at me like I was about to kill her.
Or keep her alive.
Like she was anticipating which choice I would make.
“I’m not glad. Do you think I’m glad? After everything that’s happened, this is my worst nightmare,” I forced out, trying to remember what Zion and Sarai told me last night.
Trying to remember the regret and shame I felt for merely smiling at her.
I need to be stronger.
I unconsciously glanced down, noticing her hands subtly twitch by her side.
And that’s when I knew I had made the decision.
I chose to kill her.
Not keep her alive.
“I—” she suddenly nodded once to herself with furrowed brows.
Then she drew in a deep breath.
“I want to respect your feelings,” Monroe calmly said, nodding again as she fully glanced away from me. “You don’t want special treatment, I understand. You want to report to Briggs again. I can make that change. You want me to leave you alone forever—” she suddenly turned away from me, walking over to her desk. “I understand. I hear you, and I’ll make that happen for you,” she whispered, her soft voice barely clinging to the air.
“Great,” I mumbled, glancing down at my heels with a deep inhale that physically hurt. “I’m leaving now.”
“Okay,” was all she said, and I could feel the weighted tension in the air.
It wasn’t heavy or overwhelming this time.
It just made me feel like I was being choked.
My chest felt tight—tighter than it had in a really long time.
But I didn’t say anything to her.
I tried not to glance over at her as I walked toward the door.
I tried not to notice her reaching for the end of her sleeves out of my peripheral vision.
Or how she wouldn’t face me.
But I noticed.
I fucking noticed.
And I kept walking anyway.
I left her office anyway.
What’s done is done, and it needed to be like this.
Distance.
I got my distance.
Great.
Really fucking great.
I forced a smile on my lips as I passed by Sienna at the front desk, but I physically couldn’t get any words out right now.
Not with the annoying lump in my throat.
Then I felt it.
The burning in my eyes and the heaviness that came with the tears that blurred my vision.
I forced my smile wider as I walked down the hallway, blinking a few times in a row to rid the tears away.
I probably looked like a smiling maniac.
Like I just got a fucking promotion or something.
I didn’t care.
I just knew if I didn’t keep smiling, I would cry.
I refused to cry, especially here.
“Chipper,” Grayson greeted me first as I made it back to my desk. “You’re even more chipper. It seemed like you were in trouble at first.”
I was.
“Turned out to just be a few corrections, but overall good work,” I quickly lied, grabbing anything I could on my desk as I reached for my purse at the same time. “I think I’m going to go home. I’m ahead on my current projects.”
Grayson nodded, but I could see his brows subtly furrow, eyeing the rigid smile on my lips.
“Whoa,” Zion said when I accidentally dropped a few things.
“Sorry-I’m sorry,” I quickly rushed out, bending down to grab the empty coffee cup, my pens, and phone charger.
“It’s okay?” I heard Zion say, but it came out as more of a question. “Are you okay?”
“Amazing,” I lied yet again, stuffing everything in my bag. “I’m amazing. Just excited to leave and get my weekend started,” I added, tugging my bag on my shoulder before quickly logging off my computer.
I could feel Grayson and Zion’s stare lingering on me, like they were waiting for me to explode unpredictably.
I never did.
I rushed out of the tech division, briefly saying goodbye to everyone so I could go home for the weekend.
It was the longest walk of my life.
Down the hallway.
Through the lobby.
Then through that parking garage.
My face hurt from the rigid smile I had plastered on my face, and each breath felt closer and closer to a breakdown.
I was fine when I got to my car, though.
Even after I hesitantly dropped my forced smile.
I was fine in the car and walking into the apartment complex.
Then I made it inside my apartment.
I laid eyes on Jynx.
And then things were dropping from my arms before I could process it, hyperventilating so much that I had to lie flat on the floor.
Jynx was confused as she laid on my stomach, perched up, staring at me with softened blue eyes.
But all I could focus on was breathing.
Just breathing.
In through my nose, out through my mouth.
I didn’t keep track of how long I laid on the floor.
I just gently pet Jynx to ground myself more, waiting for her face to fade from my head.
Then I could sit up.
I could continue on with my life once she left me alone in my head, too.
Hiral
2025-09-28 21:05:25 +0000 UTCkez
2025-09-27 11:14:26 +0000 UTC