I was sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen, but I wasn’t really seeing anything. My fingers rested on the keyboard, unmoving, while my brain kept replaying last night over and over again. Nick had looked at me and his voice had cracked when he talked about Patricia. I had felt—so close to him but still standing at a distance. It was messing with my head in a way I didn’t like.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temples, trying to shake it off. Work. I had to focus on work. But it was one of those days where nothing was really happening—no urgent emails, no meetings, no tasks that couldn’t wait. People were still moving around, talking and answering phones, tapping on their keyboards, but everything felt so dull today.
That was when Brenda walked in.
She plopped down into the chai
