I didn’t look back as I walked away, leaving my words hanging in the air. Chris stood there, frozen and embarrassed, not making any move to stop me. His silence confirmed his discomfort and resignation. If he had tried to follow me or plead for my forgiveness, I might have felt conflicted, but as it stood, I felt a grim satisfaction in having asserted my authority and drawn a clear line in the sand.
The next morning, as I prepared to head to the office, I opened the door only to be confronted with an unexpected sight. A pile of mattresses was stacked in front of my door and there, lying on top of them, was Chris. He had spent the entire night sleeping on the floor outside my room.
"Chris, are you sick?" I asked, my voice tinged with concern and confusion as I walked over and gently nudged him awake.
Chris stirred groggily, blinking up at me with a dazed expression. A sleepy grin spread across his face when he recognized me. "Are you awake?" he mumbled, stifling a yawn as he sat up, still fully dressed.