The Wrong Attachment

It felt like an eternity before Edmund's reply popped up.

[Let him look after you. Don't worry about winning me over, we're not exactly tight.]

That confused me. I mulled it over for a hot second.

He was even shrugging off the whole boss-employee thing. Was my plan to shake up the staff actually working? I wondered.

Then he hit me with another message.

[If you're under the weather, take it easy and let him nurse you back to health.]

[I'm done sending messages.]

…

'Him'?

I chewed on that for a beat and ventured, [Who? My place is empty right now.]

Then the phone rang.

Edmund sounded like he was on the move, the wind howling in the background.

It settled down after a moment.

His tone was dead serious. "Cecilia, what are you getting at?"

I straightened up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You said your place is empty 'right now.' What's with the 'right now'?"

I glanced around, a shiver running down my spine. I dove under the covers, my voice tinged with uncertainty, "Am I supposed to have someone here?"

"And what about last night?" he asked.

"Empty then, too."

Silence hung on the line.

I racked my brain.

The 'three hundred rounds'...

I snapped to and blurted a hasty excuse: "I was just talking crazy. You know, grown-up banter...

"We've known each other for ages, and you know I'm not that liberated..."

Edmund's voice came through, skeptical, "Maybe, maybe not."

A sigh, laced with the crackle of static, drifted from the phone's earpiece.

I insisted, "You've got to trust me."

Silence greeted me once more.

Trying to get that across to Edmund felt oddly surreal. I was on the verge of just hanging up, putting an end to the discomfort.

Then, a gentle voice broke through, "Should I come over?"

A shiver of excitement shot from my toes to my spine, an odd and ticklish sensation.

"Nobody was home last night, and it's the same now. I guess I could come over, right?

"If it's not a good time, though, just say so..."

It would not matter if someone was home; he could still visit.

My grip on the phone tightened, my palm damp with sweat.

Edmund's voice, puzzled, "Hmm?"

I managed a dazed, "Oh... sure."

…

Perhaps it was his kind heart that kept him on the line. "How bad is it? Why the silence?" he asked.

After a long pause, I managed, "Gotta watch the road."

"Talking to you matters, too." His words caught me off guard, sending a flutter through my chest, my heartbeat pounding loud enough I feared he would hear.

I buried myself under the covers, seeking silence.

Memories cascaded through my thoughts.

I was one of the first to join the company.

However, despite the years, he had never introduced a girlfriend to us.

He was gentle, good-looking, and fit. Surely he would be a catch anywhere.

Why was he still single?

"Edmund, have you ever dated?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Didn't you have some grand college romance?"

"No."

"I don't buy it."

His light laugh came through. "What's on your mind, really?"

"Just wondering. Your family's place–is it far from here?" I asked.

"Are you digging into my past? It's close by. Want to check it out?"

I pondered our familiarity, feeling a bit perplexed.

I peeked out and sneezed.

I snuggled deeper into the covers. "Edmund, something's off with you today."

"That so?" His voice was light, almost chipper, as if he was in high spirits.

All that, and his last text had been laced with sarcasm.

Men were nothing if not enigmas.

Wrapped snugly in the soft blanket, drowsiness crept over me.

"When are you getting here? You're taking forever...

"Don't bother coming. I don't feel like getting up to open the door."

Edmund's laughter rang out again. "Okay, I'll speed up."

Maybe it was the sickness talking, but I was rambling.

"When you asked if I'd taken my meds, I answered, but you'd already blocked me."