CHAPTER 9
ROBBIE
The office was quieterthan usual.
Not just because of hybrid working, but because people didn’t know what to say to me.
Some offered polite smiles.A few said, “Good luck,” like I was heading off to war.Words they didn’t mean.I could see the scepticism in their eyes, hear it in their voices.They all thought that chasing a dream was reckless.I tried my best not to let their words get to me, yet at the back of my mind a small voice whispered that they were right.One person left a card on my desk with a quote about chasing rainbows.I didn’t open it.
I didn’t want to cry.
Not here.
Not now.
I packed up slowly, letting the silence settle around me like dust.My resignation had felt like a rebellion at the time — a middle finger to the system, a refusal to be broken by the machine.But now, standing in the shell of my cubicle, it felt more like a funeral.
I was burying a version of myself.
The one who played it safe.Who followed the rules.Who kept his head down and his heart locked away.I just wasn’t a people person, and my inner demons gave me one hell of an inferiority complex.
I wasn’t sure who I was anymore or who I was becoming.
Only that I couldn’t go back.
At home, Evan had lefta note on the fridge: “Gone to yoga.Don’t burn the house down.Don’t eat all the Jammie Dodgers!”
I smiled.Then, I sat on the edge of the sofa, laptop balanced on my knees.A large cup of tea sat beside me.My tummy was too tense to attempt eating biscuits.
I opened my inbox.
No new messages.
I checked the spam folder.Just in case.
Still nothing.
I hadn’t heard from Ashton.
Not yet.
And I hadn’t replied to his message either.
Because I didn’t know what to say.
I wanted to ask how he knew my dad.
I wanted to ask if Rick had ever talked about me.
But I also wanted to ask what his favourite book was.Whether he liked thunderstorms.Whether he ever felt lonely after a livestream.
I wanted to talk to him.
Not just about Dad.
