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Our budding personal relationship and the strength of our friendship before that means a lot to me, and I’m ready to salvage what we have left.
I pick up my phone to text her, but all I can do is stare at the screen.
A text would mean nothing right now, especially with the weight of my offense.
Perhaps a handwritten note.
I pick up a pen and a blank sheet, and begin writing a heartfelt apology, detailing my sincere regret for my involvement in the ill-conceived bet and how I allowed it to affect our budding relationship.
By the time I’m done pouring out my heart, it doesn't still feel convincing enough, even if I promise to make amends.
I read It over and over again, but it still doesn't feel right.
I realize that words alone will not be enough, especially since I’m determined to show her that I am committed to rebuilding her trust.
I contemplate ways to create new, positive experiences between us. Ways that will overshadow my wrongdoing, but nothing is forthcoming.
Perhaps a heartfelt gesture, but I’ve already exhausted the option of giving her gifts, and she didn’t seem to be moved by that very much, anyway.
I exhale slowly, wondering if this is actually the end for us. I can't let it be. I need to fix this.
I was too shocked when she confronted me, and I know I didn’t choose the right words to ask her forgiveness. Maybe I shouldn’t have let her walk out of my house yesterday.
I probably should have done more, but I didn’t.
I slump on my chair, tapping my pen on my lower lip.
There’s a quick knock on the door, and it swings open. I sit upright and hide the letter between a stack of papers, hopeful that it’s Carissa, but Pamela walks through the door instead.
“Yes?” I roll my eyes, unable to mask my disappointment.
“Carissa hasn't shown up to work, and the entire team is waiting for feedback on the SunRise project,” she replies.
I shrug. “Then call her.”
“I’ve done that already, and she isn't answering.”
My heart skips a bit after hearing that, but I maintain my composure, hoping Pamela can’t read minds.
“Okay. I suggest you handle the meeting today. At least until she gets back.”
Pamela makes an attempt to leave, but she turns back almost immediately.
“I have a lot of work to do, sir,” she protests. “Besides, she didn’t send me the files.”
I scurry through the files and papers on my table, but I can’t find what I’m looking for, so I go on my computer to check my emails.
“She must have sent something to me,” I respond, scrolling and scanning until I finally find it.
“Here.” I look up at her, but there’s an unmistakable frown on her face.
“Is there a problem?”
She hesitates. “No, sir.”
“I have sent that to you. Do your best with that until she shows up, but isn't this the project assigned to Jesse?”
“Jesse hasn't shown up to work, either. He called in sick earlier,” Pamela answers.
