Fell In Love With My Roomy Chapter 43

I longed for that kiss to bring me happiness.

I constantly find myself daydreaming about him during quiet moments. Reflecting on our time together fills me with a sense of wonder, novelty, and enjoyment. It was the first time in my life that I truly understood why people my age enjoyed such encounters.

It frustrated me that he didn't want to take our connection any further. Deep down, I knew it shouldn't progress, yet it did. Last night, our emotions were laid bare, and he couldn't retract his words, even if he wanted to.

At least he admitted that his thoughts and emotions were conflicting. Mine were too, and I had to keep reminding myself to stay away from Kent. Getting close to him was not a wise choice, and I could savor our secret without guilt.

Today marked my return to work. Fortunately, no one was around when I left, and Mark wasn't there to offer more advice. Last night, I refrained from talking to anyone and remained in my room. I was not skilled at deception, so I had to delay revealing last night's events to everyone until I could handle it.

As I arrived at the pool for my swim lessons, I felt tension building within me. Strangely, it seemed like no one else was affected by what had transpired there. The kids swam, their parents patiently awaited the end of the lessons, and everyone appeared content.

My inner thoughts were racing, and I wasn't comfortable being back, but I realized that the only way to truly move on was to start talking to myself again.

I made an effort to stay composed as I led my swim lessons. My mind kept drifting to three words: pool, thesis, and Kent. It was a challenging juggling act, but once I completed my thesis, I could focus solely on the Kent situation. I needed to stop dwelling on being pressed against my bedroom door and concentrate on my duties.

My swim lessons were going smoothly now that I wasn't constantly worrying about someone drowning. I found joy in witnessing the kids' progress and growth. I genuinely enjoyed working with children, and I knew I wouldn't do it forever, so I had to appreciate this aspect of my job while it lasted.

I finally reached the midpoint of my shift, signaling lunchtime. I rummaged through my bag for a granola bar in the pool office, finding myself alone.

"Julianna?" I turned around at the sound of a voice and saw Michaela standing in the doorway.

"Hi," I replied with a somewhat forced smile, trying to appear as composed as possible.

"Hey, how's it going?" I responded positively when she inquired. I considered what to say—should I mention the stress of my job, the uncertainty of my research presentation on Monday, or the unexpected kiss with my roommate from last night? In the end, I settled for a vague response.

"I'm good," I told her, and she nodded.

"I'm glad to see you back; it's nice having you here again." I politely agreed with her sentiment. "How are you coping with everything?"

"It's a bit strange, I won't lie," I admitted. She concurred, "Getting back into the routine, but I just..."

"You think everyone needs rescuing," she finished my sentence, and I nodded.

"That's pretty common after a major incident like the one you experienced."

"Good to know," I mumbled to myself as I sat at my desk with my granola bar. "Do you happen to know what happened to that girl?"

"We haven't received any updates," she sighed. "You should know we don't typically..."

"Oh," I sighed and nodded.

"But if I come across any information, I'll keep you informed," she assured me. "Are you available after work today to discuss how your rescue went?"

"Yeah," I replied, even though I wasn't eager to revisit the topic.

"Alright, great. Enjoy your meal," she smiled at me and added, "Don't worry." She returned to her office, and I sighed as I put on my sweater over my damp swimsuit, feeling the chill in the office.

As soon as I take a seat, my mind drifts back to last night, causing thoughts of him to resurface, even though I'm aware I shouldn't let them. It's as if I'm needlessly tormenting myself because, in all likelihood, there are many guys who could kiss me like that. Kent isn't anything extraordinary, and there's no reason for me to be anxious about him. I need to move forward. He made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't take any action, so I understood that I couldn't either. Kent and I were polar opposites in every way, and attempting to date him would be detrimental to my life.

But then, the memory of his heavy breathing, moaning, and the sensation of his lips gently moving against mine pushes aside those rational thoughts. I didn't anticipate my stomach dropping or my knees weakening, but it was more exquisite than anything I had imagined. I wish we didn't share the same living space, and I wish he wasn't so enigmatic, because that kiss felt like the simplest thing in the world.

"Excuse me?" I hear a voice and withdraw my hand from my lips, unaware that I was touching them. I accidentally drop my granola bar and clear my throat when I spot a middle-aged woman with blonde hair pinned back.

"Um, yes?" I reply, standing up too hastily and stumbling over my own feet. Once more, I clear my throat and run my hand across my forehead. "Yes, excuse me?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you."

"No need to apologize. I'm sorry," I respond politely, and she smiles.

"Is there someone named Juls or Julianna working here?"

"Yes, my name is Julianna Macey. How can I assist you?" I inquire kindly, and she sighs.

"My daughter was here swimming with friends last weekend." She speaks in a hushed tone. "I'm Lauren's mom," and my heart races. "She had an anaphylactic reaction."

"Yes, I remember." I acknowledge it. "H-how is she doing?" I inquire softly, my hands sliding up and down my thighs.

"She's right here." She says, stepping aside, and I almost do a double-take. It's the same girl I believed was lost, the one who haunted my nightmares because I felt incapable of saving her. Her neatly done blonde hair, a vibrant complexion, and wide-open blue eyes.

"Oh my god," I mutter, feeling my throat constrict and my eyes well up with tears.

She offers a faint smile, and I sniffle, wiping my face with my hands.