This is what I do best, fix problems that aren’t mine. Rewrite stories that should’ve gone differently. Pretend I don’t see the cracks until someone else names them.
The glow of the screen reflects in the window, it’s a faint mirror of myself. Hair pulled into a low knot, blazer still buttoned, lipstick long faded. Professional. Composed. The woman everyone calls when things fall apart.
Outside the window, the parking lot hums with rain and a streetlight that never fully turns off, it just flickers. The reflection is steady, which is more than I feel.
If people only knew how much I relate to the mess.
A sound outside, laughter from the hallway, someone leaving with someone else, makes the office feel smaller. My chest tightens, that quiet, uninvited ache pushing up before I can stop it.
I close the laptop, grab my coat, and turn off the light. The darkness settles fast, making the room seem still. The sort of stillness that folds in on you. The hallway buzzes faintly, that low thread of electricity that never really stops.
My heels echo against the tile, each step a small reminder of how empty this place feels after hours. A little creepy, if I’m honest.
I tell myself that yes, I’m tired, but I’ve earned this exhaustion. That the ache in my chest is just the residue of a long day.
Maybe that’s what I’ve built my life around, staying busy enough not to feel what’s missing. But the quiet has a way of catching up and reminding you.
And lately, the cracks have been following me home.
The building is nearly silent when my phone buzzes again inside my purse. Pulling it out, I see that it’s Ellie again.
Ellie:Don’t think I don’t know you didn’t actually leave.
Me:You're stalking me now?
Ellie:Please. You’re predictable.
Me:Ouch.
Ellie:I know you. You get twitchy after a big day. You’ll sit there until midnight rewriting the same sentence just to feel in control.
I smirk even as my chest tightens.
Me:It’s called dedication.
Ellie:It’s called avoidance.
That hits hard.
Me:Are you always this nosy after office hours?
Ellie:Only to people I think are about to fall apart and call it productivity.
My phone buzzes again before I even make it out of the building.
Ellie:You good, Sar? For real.
Me:I’m fine.
Ellie:You sure? You’ve been… different lately. Distracted.
I push through the lobby doors and step into the cool night air. The parking lot’s mostly empty, rain tapping against the asphalt. My reflection flashes in the glass before it’s swallowed by the dark.
Me:Long day, it happens.
Ellie:Uh-huh. You said that yesterday. And the day before.
Me:You keeping a log?
