The wind in Sea Haven carried a salty, damp scent of the sea.
I sat at my desk at the new company, organizing the documents before me.
Honestly, for the first month in Sea Haven, I wasn't used to it.
After five years of walking on eggshells, I still found myself habitually reading people's expressions whenever I was in front of my new colleagues.
If someone knocked over a cup, I would immediately tense up and reach for a cloth. When ordering lunch, I always chose the lightest options that wouldn't leave a lingering smell.
That was until the day our department had a team dinner at a seafood barbecue joint.
Everyone was chatting and laughing, and when grease dripped onto the tablecloth, nobody acted as if the world was ending.
Watching my coworkers dig in with gusto, I suddenly ducked
