A striking twist of bloodred, winding supports bends around the glass like a thick vine you can't break and holds the gold plates sturdy. There's a violent intensity to it, creating a stark contrast against the polished gold and serene blue sand.
The colors don't just coexist. They're seamlessly intertwined with warning, time suspended between calm blue promise and a red threat that keeps it upright.
I set it on my desk and continue to marvel over it, watching the blue sand gracefully fall. After a few minutes, I notice there's a small folded card tucked in the side.
My throat thickens. I shouldn't read it. It's inappropriate and sure to be another violation.
Time stands still. Curiosity wins. I unfold the paper.
Her handwriting curves across the page in gentle blue ink.
Dr. Mercer,
I'm so sorry I broke your great-grandfather's hourglass when we first met.
I know I can never replace something so meaningful, but I found this, and I thought of you instantly.
And I won't lie. I hope you use it for all your hourly appointments and always think of me.
Thank you for not abandoning me.
Love,
Blue
My lungs stop working. For a moment, I can't move.
Love.
She doesn't know what love is.
I'm going to need to talk to her about this.
How did she know it was my great-grandfather's hourglass?
Did I tell her?
No, I didn't.
The note feels sharp in my hands, the words cutting through every line I tried to draw today. The hourglass sits heavy in my lap, the blue sand settling like a heartbeat, quiet, steady, and persistent.
It's a symbol, a message, and a tether all in one. And now I'm holding it.
I run my thumb over the engraved gold, trying desperately to put it back in the box and tell her I can't keep it.
I can't.
I set the note down carefully beside the box, but the words cling to me, threading through my chest like a vine tightening around a tree.
Broken, yet still yours. Forever in time.
My breath shudders out. This is entirely wrong. Yet, as I turn the hourglass in my hands, watching the first trickle of blue sand slide down in a slow, hypnotic stream, one truth hits me with the force of a confession.
I don't want to give it back, reprimand, or push her away.
I want to keep it and her.
I'm not sure how to hide it anymore, but I'm in territory I have no place entering.
