Wish

Overtime

7:43PM.

“Ms. Lane, stay.”

Damien didn’t look up from his laptop.

“The Q3 report crashed. I need it fixed before tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Cole.”

Everyone else left. Again.

I opened my laptop. He opened his.

We worked in silence. The kind that wasn’t awkward anymore.

8:17PM.

The lights flickered. Once. Twice.

Then… nothing.

The whole floor went dark.

“Damien?” The name slipped out before I could stop it.

“I’m here,” his voice came from the dark. Steady.

Emergency lights clicked on. Dim. Red.

“Generator will take a minute,” he said. “Don’t move.”

I couldn’t see him. But I could hear him. The sound of his chair. His breath.

My phone lit up. No signal.

“Storm,” he said. “Took out the grid.”

“Are we… stuck?”

“Security will open the elevators once backup’s live. 20 minutes, maybe.”

20 minutes. Alone. Dark.

He stood. I heard footsteps. Then a click.

A small desk lamp turned on. He’d brought it over.

It cast just enough light to see his face. Tired. Softer without the office glare.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the couch by the window.

I sat. He sat at the other end. Far. Professional.

Rain started again. Hitting the glass.

“You’re shivering,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

He hesitated. Then took off his blazer. Draped it over my shoulders.

Again.

“Stop giving me your clothes, Mr. Cole,” I whispered.

“Damien,” he corrected. Quiet.

“Damien,” I said back.

We looked at each other in the dim light.

No files. No coffee. No audience.

Just 20 minutes.

“Why do you stay so late?” he asked suddenly.

“Because you do,” I said before I could think.

He went still.

“Everyone leaves at 5, Ava. You don’t.”

“I trust you,” I said. “Not to make me regret it.”

His jaw tightened. Like I’d said something too honest.

“Ava…”

The lights buzzed. Flickered. Came back on.

Full brightness. Harsh.

The moment broke.

He stood immediately. Blazer gone from my shoulders. Back in his hands.

“Generator’s on,” he said. “You can go.”

I stood too. Fast. “Right. Goodnight, Mr. Cole.”

I made it to the elevator before he said it.

“Ava.”

I turned.

“Thank you,” he said. “For staying.”

For the first time in 3 years, Damien Cole looked… unsure.

I got in the elevator. Doors closed.

My hands were shaking.

*Note to Self: He said my name like it meant something. Don’t read into it.*

I’m reading into it.