Molly
Josh stops in front of my desk and crosses his arms with an easy smile.
“You promised,” he reminds me.
I blink once. “Promised what?”
He tilts his head slightly, amused.
“To treat me to breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. I’m not picky.”
I let out a quiet breath.
Right.
That promise.
It feels as though it belongs to a different day. A lighter day. Before Catherine started turning every hallway into a battlefield and before everything began sitting so heavily on my chest.
“I remember,” I say.
Truthfully, I am not in the mood for company. Not today. Not with everything circling inside my head.
But Josh is standing here anyway. Smiling at me. Waiting.
And I did promise.
“Alright,” I tell him as I reach for my bag again. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
His smile widens.
