Chapter 24
1628 Words
Summer’s POV
I forced myself to keep walking.
I refused to look back.
I refused to stand there wondering why Andrew Knight had looked at me that way.
I refused to analyze the fact that he had remembered my name.
It meant nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He was the owner of the company.
He probably knew more employees than I realized.
Maybe he had seen my name on a project.
Maybe my supervisor had mentioned me at some point.
Maybe he had simply remembered it from one of the many company events I had attended over the past two years.
There were countless explanations.
I didn’t need to create a mystery where there wasn’t one.
Besides, I had more important things to think about.
Like my divorce.
Like the fact that I had just spent the other day sitting across from Ethan while we discussed the division of our lives as if our marriage were a business arrangement.
Like the fact that I had walked away from the man I had once loved without turning around.
Those were the things I should be thinking about.
Not Andrew Knight.
Definitely not Andrew Knight.
I reached my supervisor’s office and knocked.
“Come in.”
I opened the door.
He looked up from his computer almost immediately.
His expression changed when he saw me.
“Summer.”
I smiled.
“Hi.”
He stood.
“How are you?”
The question was simple.
But it immediately made something inside my chest tighten.
I had expected it.
I knew he would ask.
Still, I wasn’t prepared for how difficult it would be to answer.
“I’m okay.”
He studied me for a moment.
Not in the intrusive way.
Not like he was trying to force me to explain.
He simply looked at me.
As though he knew that “okay” could mean many different things.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
“Sit.”
I walked over and sat down.
He returned to his chair.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
The office was quiet.
The blinds were partially open, allowing sunlight to spill across the carpet.
Everything looked exactly as it always had.
The same desk.
The same framed certificates.
The same stack of files arranged neatly beside his computer.
It was strange how normal everything seemed.
The world had continued turning.
People had continued coming to work.
Projects had continued moving forward.
And yet, my entire life had changed.
“I wanted to let you know that I’m back,” I said.
He nodded.
“I figured you would be when you were ready.”
“I thought I should come in.”
“You didn’t have to rush.”
“I know.”
I gave him a small smile.
“But I think I needed to.”
He leaned back slightly.
“Because of the divorce?”
I looked down at my hands.
The word still felt strange.
Divorce.
Even now.
Even after the settlement conference.
Even after the documents.
Even after everything.
It still sounded like something that happened to other people.
Not me.
“Yes.”
My voice was quiet.
“I just… I can’t keep sitting at home.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“I tried.”
I let out a small breath.
“I really tried.”
I looked around the room.
“But everything reminded me of something.”
I didn’t need to explain what I meant.
He understood.
“So work feels easier.”
“Not easier.”
I shook my head.
“Just different.”
That was the truth.
Work had its own problems.
Deadlines.
Clients.
Design revisions.
Difficult meetings.
None of them were easy.
But they were problems I could solve.
I could choose a color.
Change a layout.
Fix a design.
Meet a deadline.
I couldn’t do any of those things with my marriage.
“You don’t have to pretend to be fine here,” he said.
I looked at him.
“I know.”
“Your leave is still available if you need it.”
“I know.”
“And if you decide you need more time…”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“Good.”
I smiled back.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
He shook his head.
“You’ve been with the company for almost two years. You’re good at what you do. We want you here.”
The words caught me slightly off guard.
I looked at him.
“We?”
“The team.”
He clarified.
“Your team wants you here.”
Something warm spread through my chest.
It wasn’t a dramatic feeling.
It didn’t erase the pain.
But it helped.
“I missed them too.”
“Then go back to work.”
I smiled.
“That sounds like an order.”
“It is.”
I laughed softly.
“Good.”
He glanced at the folder in my hands.
“Was there something else?”
I immediately remembered why I had come.
“Yes.”
I placed the folder on his desk.
“I wanted to let you know that I’m officially back. And I also wanted to pick this up.”
He opened the folder and glanced inside.
“Ah.”
“I was told you needed it.”
“I did.”
He looked at me.
“Thank you.”
I stood.
“Of course.”
I reached for the door.
“Summer?”
I turned.
“Yes?”
He hesitated for a moment.
Then said quietly, “Take care of yourself.”
The words were simple.
But something about them touched me.
I nodded.
“I will.”
I left his office.
The moment the door closed behind me, I felt a little lighter.
Not healed.
Not fixed.
But lighter.
I had returned to work.
I had spoken to my supervisor.
I had collected the file.
I had survived my first day back.
And so far, I hadn’t cried.
That counted for something.
I made my way back toward my department.
I had almost reached my desk when I stopped.
A sudden wave of nausea rolled through me.
I froze.
My stomach twisted violently.
I pressed a hand against my abdomen.
No.
Not now.
I swallowed hard.
The sensation intensified.
For a second, I thought I was going to be sick right there in the middle of the office.
I looked around quickly.
Nobody appeared to be paying attention.
I took a slow breath.
Then another.
Maybe I hadn’t eaten enough.
That was probably it.
I had woken up early.
Barely eaten breakfast.
Spent the morning at the settlement conference.
Then come straight to work.
My body was probably protesting.
That was all.
I turned toward the nearest restroom.
I didn’t make it very far before the nausea worsened.
I quickened my steps.
The moment I reached the restroom, I pushed through the door.
I barely made it to the nearest stall before I was bending over.
Nothing came up.
There was nothing in my stomach.
But the nausea was horrible.
I remained there for several seconds, gripping the edge of the stall while my body continued trying to reject whatever was inside me.
Eventually, it eased.
Slowly.
I sat back on my heels.
My eyes watered.
I breathed through my mouth.
“What is wrong with me?”
I whispered.
I stayed there for another minute.
Then I stood carefully.
I walked to the sink and turned on the water.
My reflection stared back at me.
I looked pale.
My carefully applied makeup was still intact.
My hair was still perfectly styled.
My cream-colored blouse was still buttoned neatly.
From the outside, I looked like a woman who had arrived at work ready to reclaim her life.
Inside…
I felt like my body had just declared war on me.
I splashed cold water onto my face.
Then stood there with both hands gripping the edge of the sink.
Stress.
It was stress.
Obviously.
I had spent the last few weeks dealing with the collapse of my marriage.
I had barely slept.
I had barely eaten.
I had cried more in the last month than I had in years.
Of course my body was reacting.
There was nothing strange about it.
Nothing at all.
I reached into my handbag and pulled out a small packet of tissues.
I dabbed beneath my eyes.
Then checked my reflection again.
“Get it together.”
I whispered.
I wasn’t going to fall apart in the bathroom on my first day back.
I had already done enough falling apart.
I straightened.
Then walked out.
I made it back to my desk.
For the next hour, I tried to focus.
I answered emails.
Reviewed the file I had collected.
Responded to messages from colleagues.
I even managed to attend a short meeting without thinking about Ethan for the entire duration.
Almost.
There were moments when my mind wandered.
When I remembered his face at the conference table.
The way he had looked at me when I refused to turn around.
But every time my thoughts began moving in that direction, I forced them back toward work.
It wasn’t easy.
But it was possible.
By early afternoon, I had almost convinced myself that I was managing.
Then I remembered Lena.
I had promised myself I would stop by her office before the end of the day.
I needed to see her.
Not because I needed rescuing.
Not because I was about to collapse.
I simply wanted to see my friend.
There was a difference.
I grabbed my handbag and made my way toward her department.
- Writer
