bennett
Reality didn’t ease up just because Bennett wanted it to.
The office felt different Monday morning. Same gray carpet. Same fluorescent lights. Same coffee that tasted like regret. But Bennett felt like he was wearing his skin differently.
No one noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t comment.
He settled into his desk, opened his laptop, and stared at the cascade of emails that had accumulated over four days. Normally, this would send his anxiety spiking. Today, he just started working through them methodically.
His phone buzzed.
Jasper:
Survived your first hour back?
Bennett smiled before he could stop himself.
Bennett:
Barely.
Jasper:
That’s the spirit. Lunch?
Bennett hesitated. Lunch meant the cafeteria. Meant people from both their teams. Meant being seen together in a way that might invite questions.
Bennett:
Yes.
He sent it before he could overthink.
The office was exactly as he’d left it. His desk, meticulously organized. His whiteboard, covered in strategic frameworks. His coffee mug, rinsed and waiting.
His assistant, Maya, knocked on his door frame. “Welcome back. How was the trip?”
Bennett looked up. “Productive.”
She smiled. “That’s one word for it. You missed the Peterson meeting, but I rescheduled. And Jasper Quinn’s team sent over some collaboration notes?”
Bennett’s pulse kicked. “They did.”
“Yeah, something about joint strategy moving forward.” Maya tilted her head. “That’s new.”
“It is,” Bennett agreed, keeping his voice neutral. “We found some common ground.”
“Clearly.” She didn’t press, just handed him a folder. “Catch-up notes. Coffee?”
“Please.”
When she left, Bennett opened the folder.
On top was a handwritten note on Jasper’s letterhead:
Told my team we’re collaborating. Hope that’s okay. - J
Bennett smiled despite himself.
