She looks like she wants to argue more, but doesn’t. She just nods and walks away, and I watch her go, thinking about how good she looks in something I provided.
Small victories.
I start working late. Not because I have to, but because she does. Savannah stays until 8:00 or 9:00 PM most nights, and I make sure I’m there too.
Sometimes I walk past her office, and she’s so focused she doesn’t notice me. Sometimes I linger in the hallway and watch her through the glass walls, the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking, the way she stretches her neck when she’s tired.
Sometimes she looks up and catches me watching, and the eye contact lasts just long enough to be meaningful before she looks away.
Tonight, I’m in my office at 8:30 PM when I hear the elevator ding. I step into the hallway and see her waiting, briefcase in hand, exhausted.
“Working late again,” I say.
She jumps. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
We step into the elevator together.
“Thank you for the dress,” she says quietly. “I never properly thanked you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It was too expensive.”
“Nothing is too expensive for you.”
The elevator reaches the ground floor, and the moment breaks.
“Good night, Ledger,” she says.
“Good night, Savannah.”
She walks away, and I watch her go, my patience wearing thinner with every step she takes away from me.
My phone rings at 11:00 PM while I’m reviewing contracts.
“Dad,” Alexi says.
His voice sounds wrong.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Just wanted to check in.”
“Don’t lie to me. What happened?”
“I got jumped. Three guys. I handled it, but I’m a little banged up.”
I grab my keys. “Where are you?”
“My apartment. Dad, seriously, I’m fine?—”
“I’m coming over.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m at his door. He opens it. His left eye is swollen, and a cut above his eyebrow is still bleeding. His lip is split, and he’s holding his ribs like they hurt.
“You call this fine?” I push past him into the apartment.
