I took a slow, deep breath. If anyone had seen the headline, they were either pretending really well, or they truly didn’t care.
Still, my palms stayed clammy, and my chest tightened even more as I knocked on Maria’s office door.
“Come in,” she called.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Maria looked up from her screen, calm as usual, her expression impossible to read.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice as even as I could. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Sit.”
I did, knees locked, spine straight.
“I wanted to come to you first, before you hear it from someone else, or worse, from your inbox.”
Her eyes narrowed with interest.
“There’s a headline making rounds,” I continued. “It’s sensationalized, but the part that matters is… Sean and I are seeing each other.” I took a quick breath. “I didn’t want it to blindside you.”
Maria leaned back in her chair. “Thanks for the heads up. As far as the team is concerned, there’s no policy against that unless it interferes with your work. And yours, if anything, is ahead of schedule.”
Some of the tension in my shoulders loosened.
“You’re assigned internally this week, right?”
“Yes. Someone’s out.”
She smiled. “Let the noise run its course. People get bored quickly.”
“Thanks,” I said, standing.
I left her office with a little more oxygen in my lungs.
The day didn’t let up. Between chasing rehab updates, inputting last week’s drill notes, and fielding way too many questions about Thursday’s postgame dinner, I was running on autopilot. All while pretending my flinch reflex wasn’t overcaffeinated every time someone lingered two seconds too long in the hallway.
I was living a full split-screen life: top half, functional development assistant; bottom half, cautionary tale in a side-by-side breakup meme. Even if no one said a word about the article, those photos kept flashing in my mind, parading like entries in a public contest I never agreed to join.
For some reason, the image of Sean and his ex reminded me of a similar photo of me and Vince that still floated somewhere online. It was taken the day of our engagement brunch—everyone was laughing and clinking mimosas, the patio strung with white lights and pink flowers. Vince had pulled me in close for the shot, his arm firm around my waist. I’d crossed my ankles to show off the shoes, a gift from his mother. That frozen moment had lived online ever since. Would that be dragged into my present too?
By mid-afternoon, my shoulders ached from bracing for questions that never came. Each time a notification came through on my phone, my pulse jumped. Sean’s plan to see me tonight should’ve settled my nerves. Instead, it felt as if I was preparing for another conference room reveal.
Just days ago, I’d woken up next to him in a hotel suite, sleep-ruffled but warm and at peace. Not today. How many people would screenshot that headline? And the story behind it wanted to prove my mom right: Sean wasn’t “me.” Too old. Too public. Too complicated. Damn it.
Before I knew it, the office had emptied. I stayed at my desk to kill time until I heard from Sean. And because I’m nothing if notemotionally consistent, I opened a tab for job listings for women over sixty.
Mom wasn’t in a hurry to find work. She was stewing—bitter about the fallout from the investment she cosigned with Dad. Starting a new job at sixty-one wasn’t anyone’s life plan, but she needed to start working again, rebuild their finances, and maybe then she’d finally stop trying to edit my life into the version she didn’t get to write for herself.
Sean’s text finally came through.
Sean:Hey, at the rink.
At the rink? Please don’t let this mean what I think it means.
Me:On my way.
I gathered my things slowly, nursing a dull ache in my temples from too much tension. Outside, the sun-streaked gold across the side of the building as I pulled into the arena lot. The light was gentle, like nature was determined to mellow this day for me.
Sean had said we’d stand together through that ridiculous headline, but the thought of our faces splashed across the jumbotron made my stomach flip.
