Closing Doors

Isabella

The hum of fluorescent lights in the office felt different today, a little heavier, a little final. My desk, once cluttered with sticky notes, pens, and the occasional candy wrapper, now looked bare. My last day at work had arrived, and as much as I tried to convince my mom not to drag us into the Sinclair orbit, she wouldn’t budge. So here I was, saying goodbye to a place I’d grown comfortable in, to people who had become a steady part of my life.

A small group of my colleagues gathered around my desk, their smiles a mix of encouragement and sadness. “We’re going to miss you, Isabella,” one of them said, handing me a card filled with scribbled well-wishes and good luck messages.

“I’ll miss you all too,” I replied, my voice catching slightly.

As the group began to disperse back to their tasks, I spotted Carlson making his way toward me. My heart skipped a beat, as it always did when I saw him. Even after a year of dating, the sight of his easy smile still had that effect on me.

He slid his hands into his pockets, his suit fitting him perfectly as always, and stopped a few feet away. “Last day, huh?” he said, his voice casual but with a hint of something softer beneath.

“Yep,” I replied, leaning against the edge of my desk. “Hard to believe.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m going to miss you around here.”

I smiled at him, warmth blooming in my chest. “It’s not like I’m disappearing, Carlson. We’ll still see each other. Every day if you want.”

His grin widened, but there was something thoughtful in his expression. “It’ll be different, though. Not running into you in the break room, not having you sitting across the office... It’s going to feel a lot emptier.”

I reached out, lightly touching his arm. “We’ll make it work.”

He placed his hand over mine, his thumb brushing against my fingers. “You’re right. We always do.”

For a brief moment, the office faded away, and it was just the two of us. In the past year, Carlson had become such a steady presence in my life. He was charming, ambitious, and attentive in all the ways that mattered. I had even toyed with the idea of us moving in together, but every time the thought surfaced, I’d push it away. It still felt too soon, like we hadn’t quite crossed that invisible line where such a step would feel natural.

“Hey,” he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just... a lot to process, I guess. Leaving here, starting at Sinclair Industries—it’s a big change.”

He squeezed my hand lightly. “You’re going to be amazing, Isabella. They don’t know how lucky they are to have you.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.

Carlson glanced over his shoulder as a colleague called his name, motioning him toward a meeting room. “I have to run,” he said, reluctantly letting go of my hand. “But I’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course,” I replied.

As he walked away, I watched him for a moment, his confident stride carrying him toward his next task. I couldn’t help but wonder how our relationship would change now that we wouldn’t be seeing each other at work. But then again, change wasn’t always a bad thing.

*************************************************

The Sinclair Tower loomed above me, a gleaming monolith of glass and steel. Its pristine exterior reflected the city skyline, and I felt a pang of nerves as I pushed through the revolving doors into the grand lobby. Marble floors stretched out beneath my feet, and the faint scent of polished wood and citrus lingered in the air.

The elevator whisked me up to the 10th floor so smoothly that I barely felt it move. When the doors opened, I was greeted by a sleek reception area bathed in natural light. A warm smile from behind the desk caught my eye.

“Isabella, right?” the woman said, rising from her chair.

“Yes,” I replied, stepping forward.

“I’m Margaret,” she introduced herself, extending a hand. “Welcome. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Her handshake was firm but kind, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease. Margaret appeared to be in her fifties, her silver-streaked hair tied neatly into a bun, and she exuded a calm confidence that instantly made the high-stakes environment feel less intimidating.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

She gestured for me to follow her. “Come on, let me show you around before we dive into the details.”

As we walked through the office, Margaret chatted easily, pointing out key areas and introducing me to various staff members. “This is Tom from accounting,” she said, pausing near a cubicle. A man in his thirtys looked up and gave me a friendly nod. “And over there is Jessica, our HR lead.”

Jessica waved cheerfully from her desk, and I waved back, trying to commit faces and names to memory. The atmosphere was professional but not cold. People seemed focused yet approachable, and it eased some of my apprehension.

Margaret led me to a glass-walled conference room, where she pulled out a chair for me. “I’ve been here for over 20 years,” she said, a note of nostalgia creeping into her voice. “But it’s time for me to retire, and that’s where you come in.”

“Wait,” I said, blinking. “I’m replacing you?”

“That’s right,” she said with a nod. “But don’t worry, you won’t be thrown into the deep end just yet. Amy from Operations has been filling in until now. She’ll help with the transition, but I’ll also be here for the next few weeks to make sure you’re up to speed.”

As if on cue, we arrived at a corner desk where a young woman with sleek brown hair sat typing on her laptop. She looked up as we approached, her expression polite but guarded.

“Amy,” Margaret said, gesturing toward me. “This is Isabella, the new assistant I mentioned. Isabella, meet Amy from the operations department.”

I extended my hand, offering her a smile. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Amy stood and shook my hand, her grip light. “Nice to meet you too,” she said, her lips curving into a smile, but something about it felt... off. Her eyes didn’t quite match the warmth of her expression, and I caught a fleeting shadow of resentment or disappointment before she quickly masked it.

Margaret didn’t seem to notice. “Amy’s been wonderful, stepping in to help during the interim,” she said, her tone genuinely appreciative. “But she’s got plenty on her plate in Operations, so I’m sure she’ll be glad to hand things over.”

“Of course,” Amy said smoothly, her smile tightening ever so slightly.

I nodded, unsure how to respond to the subtle tension. “I look forward to working with you during the transition.”

“Likewise,” Amy said, her voice pleasant but distant.

Margaret quickly moved on, introducing me to other staff members as we continued the tour. Everyone else seemed welcoming.

When the tour ended back at Margaret’s desk, she handed me a binder filled with notes and schedules. “This will help you get a feel for how things work around here,” she said. “And remember, I’m here if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, clutching the binder like a lifeline.

Margaret smiled, her eyes crinkling warmly. “You’ll do just fine, Isabella. I can tell.”