Meredith stands in front of you, her arms crossed, her gaze intense yet thoughtful. You can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes as the tension in the room shifts. The weight of the moment is pressing in, and you’re not sure how to move forward. You remember the night before—wild, spontaneous, something that felt liberating and exciting. But now, in the sterile, professional setting of the hospital, the reality has set in.

She clears her throat, breaking the silence, and the sound is louder than it should be in the stillness of the office.

“Last night was... unexpected,”

Meredith starts, her voice steady but carrying a quiet edge to it. Her eyes never leave yours, but there’s a subtle shift in her posture, a slight tensing of her shoulders that hints at the discomfort she’s clearly trying to hide.

“I’m sure you didn’t expect this,”

she continues, her tone softening, as though trying to make light of the awkwardness that now lingers between you two.

“I didn’t expect it either, to be honest. But here we are.”

She inhales deeply, exhaling slowly as she tries to regain her composure. She’s always been good at hiding what she’s really feeling, but it’s clear from the way her hands rest on her hips that she’s still processing what happened and what this new situation means.

“I’m your boss,”

Meredith says, the words simple but loaded with significance. She says it almost as a statement, but there’s an underlying question in her voice, a hint of uncertainty as she tries to navigate this new dynamic between the two of you.

“And I’m not going to pretend that I don’t understand how complicated this could be. I know it’s not ideal. But I need you to know that I’m still here to do my job. And I expect you to do yours.”

Her eyes soften just a little, though, as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find some balance between the personal and the professional.