I Admire You

Susan

"Don't forget, life's too short for regrets," Meera's words kept echoing in my head as I walked into the meeting room. She’d said it so casually over lunch, like it was the answer to all my problems.

Sure, Meera, no regrets...except maybe agreeing to take this project and facing him.

Elliot was already seated, the picture of corporate perfection in his tailored suit, his expression as unreadable as ever. I swore he made it a personal challenge to look even more annoyingly attractive every time I saw him.

"Ms. Hart," Gerald greeted me warmly as he gestured to the chair opposite Elliot. "Please, have a seat. Let’s get started."

I settled in, determined to maintain my professionalism. Elliot, on the other hand, looked entirely too calm for someone who used to panic when his laundry turned pink.

"We’ll be discussing the proposed timeline today," Gerald began, shuffling through some papers. "Ms. Hart, I believe you’ve prepared an outline for us to review?"

"Yes," I replied, pulling out my notes. "I’ve mapped out a six-month plan with clear milestones and contingency measures. If all goes well, we should see preliminary results by month four."

I slid a copy of the timeline across the table to Gerald, and another to Elliot.

Elliot picked up the document, his lips twitching as he skimmed through it.

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Nothing," he said, his tone too innocent to be genuine. "It’s just... your handwriting. Still as neat as ever."

Gerald looked up, his brow furrowing. "You two know each other?"

I froze, feeling my face heat up. "No," I said too quickly.

Elliot smirked. "We went to college together."

"Briefly," I added, hoping to downplay it.

"Four years is hardly brief," Elliot countered, leaning back in his chair.

Gerald glanced between us, clearly sensing the tension but wisely deciding not to comment. "Well, that’s... interesting. Let’s focus on the timeline."

"Yes, let’s," I said, shooting Elliot a warning look.

For the next ten minutes, I went over the key points of the timeline, doing my best to ignore Elliot’s occasional smirks and raised eyebrows.

"Ms. Hart, your plan is impressive," Gerald said once I finished. "However, I’d like to hear Mr. Prescott’s thoughts."

Elliot set down his copy of the timeline, his expression suddenly serious. "I think the plan is solid, but I have one question."

"Go ahead," I said, bracing myself.

"How do you plan to handle the team dynamic? Some of the department heads can be... difficult."

I nodded, already prepared for this. "I’ve factored in regular check-ins and team-building exercises to foster collaboration and address concerns before they escalate."

Elliot tilted his head, clearly unimpressed. "Team-building exercises? Like trust falls?"

Gerald snorted, caught off guard by Elliot's sarcasm.

"No," I said through gritted teeth. "More like workshops and open forums for discussion."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Sounds... diplomatic."

"It works," I shot back, my patience wearing thin.

Gerald cleared his throat, clearly trying to steer the meeting back on track. "Let’s not get sidetracked. Mr. Prescott, do you have any other concerns?"

"Just one," Elliot said, leaning forward. "Why is the coffee in this office so terrible? Do we have a plan for that?"

I blinked at him, completely thrown.

"Coffee?" Gerald repeated, looking baffled.

"It’s an important part of office morale," Elliot said, his tone dead serious.

"I’ll make a note of it," I said dryly, not even trying to hide my annoyance.

Gerald looked between us again, his confusion growing. "Is there something I’m missing here?"

"No," Elliot and I said in unison, a little too quickly.

The rest of the meeting was a blur of awkward silences and thinly veiled barbs. By the time it ended, Gerald looked like he needed a drink, and I felt like I’d just run a marathon.

As I gathered my things, Elliot stood and smirked down at me. "Great job, Ms. Hart. Looking forward to the next meeting."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Life’s too short for regrets," he added, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

I glared at him, cursing Meera and her terrible advice.

****

Flashback

The sun was setting, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange as Susan dragged me...yes, dragged me...toward the far end of campus. Her grip on my arm was firm, and despite my protests, she was determined to get wherever she was taking me.

“You know, there are actual benches around here, right?” I said, trying to inject some sarcasm into my voice.

She glanced back at me, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, but benches don’t have the view I’m looking for. Stop whining.”

Whining? I wasn’t whining. I was... skeptically inquiring.

Susan finally stopped under the biggest oak tree on campus, tossing her bag to the ground and pulling out a tattered old blanket. She smoothed it out with unnecessary precision, her lips pressed into a determined line.

“Care to explain why we’re suddenly outdoor enthusiasts?” I asked, dropping my own bag and crossing my arms.

“Because you, Elliot Prescott, need to stop treating life like it’s a checklist,” she said, glaring at me like she was my life coach. “And because this,” she gestured grandly toward the horizon, “is the best sunset spot on campus.”

I laughed, unable to help myself. “So, what? You’re going to make me meditate or something? Or are you planning to paint me like one of your French guys?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t bother hiding the small smile tugging at her lips. “No, you idiot. I’m going to sketch the view, and you’re going to sit there quietly and soak in the moment.”

Susan pulled out a sketchpad and a small tin of charcoal pencils, her movements so deliberate and practiced that I didn’t bother arguing. I sat down beside her, leaning back on my hands and watching her start to outline the scene in front of us.

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this...her focus, the way her hand moved across the paper with purpose, how she tilted her head slightly to the side as she studied the landscape.

“You’re good at this,” I found myself saying, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

She didn’t look at me, just kept sketching. “It helps me think,” she said softly. “And it reminds me that not everything has to be perfect to be beautiful.”

Something about the way she said it hit me harder than it should have. I watched her for a moment, the way the fading sunlight caught in her hair and lit up her features. She was beautiful, in a way that made my chest ache.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” I said, surprising even myself with the sudden seriousness in my voice.

“Told me what?” she asked, glancing at me briefly before turning her attention back to the sketchpad.

“That I admire you.”

Her pencil paused, just for a second, before she continued sketching. “Admire what?”

“The way you see things,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “You notice the details, the things most people miss. You make me want to slow down and notice them too.”

Her cheeks flushed...a rare sight...and she looked down at the sketchpad, suddenly shy in a way I wasn’t used to seeing. “You’re not as oblivious as you pretend to be, you know,” she murmured.

I laughed, lying back on the blanket and lacing my hands behind my head. “Maybe not. But I’ve got a good teacher.”

We stayed there until the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the sky fading from gold to deep purple. For once, I didn’t feel the need to rush, to plan, to think ahead.

I just existed, right there beside her. And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.