Arthur Moretti

I've never been known for being delicate.
People see me as a cold, demanding man who is difficult to please. And perhaps they're right. I like things to work the right way. I like organization, competence, and results.
But then there's Lily.
And everything seems to work differently when it comes to her.
In recent months, her pregnancy has become the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I go to sleep. It's almost ridiculous how much I worry.
Every day I arrive at the office early. Before even opening my own emails, I stop by her desk and leave a white chocolate. I don't know exactly when I started this habit. I just know she likes it, and that seems like reason enough to continue. I discreetly observe her during the workday.
Not to control her work. Lily is the best architect in the company. I've never had to worry about her competence.
I watch to make sure she's okay.
I see how often she shifts position in her chair. I notice when she puts her hand to her back. When she walks more slowly down the hallways. When she seems tired. When it takes her longer to get up.
I notice everything.
Sometimes I think I notice more than I should.
When she complains of back pain, I make a point of helping her. When her feet swell after hours of work, I try to ease the discomfort. When she mentions a specific food, she shows up at the office a few hours later. I never ask for thanks. Her calm expression is enough.
I also adjusted her work schedule without having to insist. I don't want her to burn out. I don't want her stuck in traffic for hours. I don't want her to spend more time on her feet than she should.
In fact, there are many things that I don't want.
I do n't want to see her tired. I don't want to see her crying. I don't want to see her in pain . I don't want to see her suffering. Sometimes I catch myself staring at her belly for a few seconds longer than I should.