Daniel:
I don’t sit still long enough for anything to settle.
That’s the problem.
If I stop moving, I start thinking. And if I start thinking, I end up back there—voices layered over each other, decisions being made like I’m not in the room, like I’m part of something already agreed on.
And then Maria.
Looking at me like I’d made it worse.
I exhale sharply and push away from the desk.
“I didn’t handle that well.”
Saying it out loud doesn’t help. It just sits there in the air, sounding unfamiliar. Like something I don’t usually say.
Because I don’t.
I don’t do apologies. I don’t circle back and explain myself. If something goes wrong, I move on. That’s how I’ve always handled things.
This… whatever this is… feels unnecessary.
And yet.
I pick up my phone.
Open our chat.
Close
