I Confessed to My Boss During a Plane Crash

Emma's POV:

I paused and took a steadying breath before knocking on my boss's office door, unsure what kind of mood I'd be facing today.

"Who is it?" His sharp reply gave me all the answer I needed.

"It's Emma," I replied.

"Sorry. Come in." He sighed, voice softening.

I eased the door open and stepped inside his office. He stood with his back to me, eyes fixed on the city skyline beyond the window. I crossed the room toward his desk, the sound of my heels echoing in the quiet space. He finally turned his chair around to face me. The exhaustion on his face said everything. He looked like he hadn't slept, probably out drinking again, the way he'd started doing after his life turned upside down. He used to be so different. Everything changed about six months ago, after his wife left him for someone he barely even knew. Since then, nothing about him had been the same.

"How are you feeling today? Is there anything I can get for you?" I asked.

"You know, just the usual misery on a new day. Coffee and some painkillers would be a good place to start," he responded.

"Of course, sir." I managed a gentle smile.

I was just about to leave his office and get what he'd asked for when his voice stopped me at the door.

"Emma, have you ever had your heart broken?" he asked.

I turned back to him slowly. He looked so defeated, all the old confidence gone. There was a time when he used to light up every room, laughing loud, never short on charm. Now, he only seemed empty, drifting from one meaningless night to the next. The hope he used to carry had faded, replaced by something heavy and dark.

"Yes," I answered quietly.

"How did you get over it?" he asked.

"I don't think I ever really did. You just figure out how to live with it. I hope you'll meet someone who can take that pain away, even if it feels impossible right now," I muttered.

"That's not very encouraging." He let out a heavy sigh, fingers pushing through his dark hair.

"Unfortunately, it's just part of life, sir," I replied softly.

"I guess you're right. Anyway, that's all. You can go now." His voice was flat, emotionless.

I nodded and stepped out, heading to the staff room to get his coffee. The other assistants were gathered around, giggling as they gossiped about Mr. Simmons.

"Was he any good? I've heard he's amazing in bed," Brenda Martel asked, flashing a sly grin.

"Oh, he's excellent," Eloisa Jones said with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes at their conversation.

They acted like he was some kind of prize, but he needed to pay attention to his work, not keep wrecking things for himself. I might have been the only one in the building who never looked at him that way. To me, he was just my boss, and I was here to do my job. Sure, he was handsome—gorgeous, even—but getting involved would be wrong.

I left the break room without saying a word, like always. I didn't really talk to the others or get involved in their games. Most days, I spent all my time with Mr. Simmons, handling whatever he needed.

When I returned to his office, I knocked lightly and waited for permission to enter. He was already on the phone when I came in. I set his coffee and painkillers on his desk and started to head out, but he reached out and motioned for me to wait.

"Okay, Mom, I'll be there." He let out a long sigh, rolling his eyes before ending the call. Then he turned his attention to me. "Emma, can you sit for a moment? I need to talk to you about something," he said, his voice more serious than before.

I took a seat across from him, trying to hide my nerves.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on me in a way that felt almost searching.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked quietly, worry creeping in.

"No, it's not that. I need a favor. You've been working with me for two years now, right?" he questioned.

I nodded, keeping my gaze steady.