“Two o’clock. Tell the front desk I sent you.”
I took the page carefully, like it might vanish.
“Why would he do this?”
She didn’t answer right away.
Instead, she leaned in a little.
“Because I raised him to understand that skill matters, yes. But character matters too. A man who sacrifices his own comfort to help a stranger in pain tells me something no resume ever could.”
I looked down at the address again.
My throat tightened.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Try thank you,” she said gently.
So I did.
Then she stood.
“I’ll let you clear your desk. I’ll expect you at two.”
I rose too.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
Something flickered across her face then.
Something tender and sad and grateful all at once.
“So am I,” she said.
She touched my arm once more and walked out.
I stood in that lobby long after the doors closed behind her.
Then I looked down at the cardboard box in my hands and almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
One day earlier I had left this place feeling like my life had collapsed.
Now I was carrying an empty box upstairs while a tiny, wild ember of hope sparked where the wreckage had been.
My desk looked sadder than I expected.
Maybe because I had expected it to feel like mine forever.
There were framed photos of Emily and the girls.
A coffee mug Claire painted for me with one handle thicker than the other because kids are honest with clay.
A legal pad with half-finished notes for the presentation that never happened.
Pens.
Headphones.
A stress ball shaped like a football.
Three client folders.
A spare tie in the drawer.
I packed slowly.
Every item felt strangely intimate, like evidence from a version of my life already ending.
A couple coworkers stopped by.
One said she was sorry.
Another whispered that what Nick did was messed up.
A third just stood there awkwardly and said, “Good luck, man,” like I was headed off to war.
Nick didn’t come near me.
I saw him once through the glass wall of his office, talking on the phone, pacing, not looking my way.
Good.
I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to be graceful.
By nine, I was back in my car with the box in the passenger seat.
