Diane’s ride back to the office was quiet but not uncomfortable.
Ethan didn’t pry. He asked about her day, her project, the client she’d been working with. Ordinary questions. Grounding ones. She answered, gradually relaxing, the tension easing from her shoulders.
At the office, she thanked him again before heading inside.
“Anytime,” he said. “Truly.”
She smiled—small, but genuine—and walked away.
The office emptied itself slowly, the way it always did on Fridays—chairs scraping back, muted laughter near the elevators, the low hum of computers powering down. Diane sat at her desk longer than she needed to, pretending to reread an email she already knew by heart. Her leg no longer ached the way it once had, but sometimes, when the day had been particularly heavy, she swore she could st
