It was time to play matchmaker. For both their sakes.
The following week,the office was hushed, still tucked in its early morning shadows. Hillary walked the hallway slowly, heels clicking against the polished floor, passing closed doors and darkened offices.
She slipped into her office, flicked on the lamp by her desk, and opened her laptop. Email. The one safe refuge. The steady rhythm of answering messages, forwarding requests, and flagging things for later gave her a fragile sense of control.
She was halfway through her inbox when a knock came. Light. Familiar.
Her heart tripped in her chest.
When she looked up, there he was. Murphy.
Even more handsome than usual, like the snow-kissed morning air had painted color into his cheeks. He held her coffee in one hand, a small brown bag in the other.
“They were out of your lemon blueberry muffins,” he said as he stepped inside, his grin soft, almost sheepish. “So, I got you cinnamon. Figured it was the next best thing.”
Hillary smiled before she could stop herself. The ache that followed was sharp, immediate. Because even in these smallest of gestures, he was so good. Too good.
“Thank you,” she murmured, accepting the cup, her fingers brushing his.
And that was it. The moment she’d decided on last night. The moment she had to stop lying to herself. Stop indulging in something that could never last.
Her chest tightened as she set the cup down, the cinnamon muffin beside it.
It was time.
“Someone’s gotta make sure you eat breakfast.” He grinned, hopeful.
"You looked like you were having fun on the ice yesterday," she said as Murphy slid into the chair across from her.
"Yeah, I love that. It was a great time. Skating with Gunnar's kids was the best."
"Yeah, you're a natural with them," she said as her heart ached at what she was about to do. It was time. Best to just rip off the bandaid.
“I saw you out on the ice yesterday. Skating with Natalie.”
“Yeah,” he said easily. “She’s great.”
“You looked good together,” Hillary said, keeping her tone neutral.
Murphy gave her a cautious look, sensing more in her words.
“You should ask her out,” Hillary said.
He blinked. “What?”
“You deserve someone like Natalie,” she pressed, forcing her face to stay composed. “She’s wonderful. I’ve known her for a long time. You two . . . you’d fit.”
Murphy studied her, hurt flickering in his eyes. “And you’d be okay with that? Me asking her out?”
“Yes,” Hillary lied, steady as she could manage. “Not only okay, I want you to.”
"You want me to?"
She paused long enough to take a fortifying breath. This was for the best.
"Yeah, she's new to the area. I'm sure she would love to meet more people. And I mean, you guys are the same age and want the same things."
"We want the same things? How do you know that? We've never even talked about what I want."
