On my way out of the office, I'm walking behind two people near the elevators.
I’m not trying to listen.
I just… hear it.
“…apparently she entered that whole contest to promote her artist,” one of them says.
The other laughs lightly. “Smart, honestly. That kind of exposure doesn’t come around twice.”
They disappear down the hall.
I stop walking.
My pulse spikes.
I know that.
Of course I do.
That was never a secret.
But the way it sounded just now…
Casual.
Offhand.
Like trivia.
My stomach drops.
Because suddenly I’m not thinking about what I did.
I’m thinking about how it sounds.
And worse.
About how he might have heard it.
If he heard it at all.
Not from me.
From someone else.
From a comment.
From the internet.
From a hallway conversation just like that.
My phone feels like a brick in my hand.
His distance earlier replays in my head.
The shorter replies.
The careful tone.
