The kind of quiet that follows something breaking.
I stood at the copier pretending to sort papers I didn’t need while my eyes kept drifting to the row of cubicles near the windows. Chris’s was empty now. Cleaned out so thoroughly it looked like no one had ever sat there at all.
No coffee mug.
No family photo.
No stupid bobblehead.
Just beige carpet and a desk wiped down too well.
No one had said goodbye to him. No email. No announcement. He’d been there on Friday, joking about a presentation. On Monday, he was gone.
That’s how things worked now.
I was feeding another pointless stack of paper into the machine when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Sage.
I frowned and answered quietly. “Hey.”
She didn’t say hello.
“He’s dead,” she said.
My stomach dropped. “Who?”
“My ex. Montgomery.” Her voice cracked on the name. “His sister emailed me. He was in the towers. He didn’t make it.”
The copier whined as it spat out the last page. I grabbed it and turned away, heart hammering.
“Oh, Sage,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t even know until today,” she went on, words tumbling out fast, sharp. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That he was just… gone. That time had taken care of it. I never got to say anything. He was a father. He left a widow and babies behind. I never?—”
“Hey,” I said softly. “Where are you right now?”
“At my desk. I can’t breathe.”
I looked around the office. Everyone had their heads down. No one noticed anything unless it disrupted a meeting.
“Do you want to come with me this weekend?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I’d fully formed them. “To my mom’s. North Peabody. You don’t have to talk. Or do anything. Just… not be alone.”
There was a pause. Then a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Please.”
After I hung up, I stood there longer than necessary, staring at the copier like it had answers.
At lunch, Ethan asked if I wanted to grab something downstairs.
We walked together but didn’t talk much. The deli was crowded, loud in that forced way, people pretending things were normal. We sat at a small table near the window.
He looked tired. Not hungover tired. Deeper than that.
“Sage called you,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “Her ex died. He was in the towers.”
