A pulse of guilt rose in my throat, sharp and unpleasant.
“I’m sorry,” I said, because I was. Because suddenly it felt cruel.
She stood then—slowly, deliberately—closing the distance between us without touching. Her height made me aware of myself in a way I didn’t like, small, wound tight, always ready to bolt.
“It’s okay,” she said. “But if you’re going to keep offering rain checks, at least let me be real while I collect them.”
My breath caught.
I nodded once, because words felt dangerous.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth. Then lifted back to my eyes like she was choosing restraint.
“Go do your impossible day,” she said quietly. “But don’t forget you’re a person. Not a machine.”
I managed a faint smile. “No promises.”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I rather guessed.”
I left before I could do something stupid, which meant, naturally, I did something stupid anyway.
Half a block away, I turned back.
Not all the way. Just enough to look.
She was still standing by the café window, watching me leave like she’d expected me to run. Like she was letting me.
When our eyes met, she lifted two fingers in a small, casual salute.
Not a goodbye.
Not a claim.
Just:I see you.
My chest tightened.
I turned away before the feeling could root.
The Daily swallowedme whole over the next few days.
The minute I stepped through the doors, the air shifted—harsher, faster, layered with urgency and ink and the click of keyboards. A place where nobody asked how you were unless it affected the output.
I dumped my bag at my desk and immediately started moving.
Noor first. A call that turned into twenty minutes of me talking her off a ledge about her portfolio sequencing while my eyes flicked between her PDF and the clock like I could split myself in half.
“Rachel,” Noor said at one point, very softly. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
“No,” she pressed, which was new for her. “Areyouokay?”
The question hit too close to whereshehad just been standing, warm and quiet and insisting I exist.
“I’m busy,” I said, and heard how pathetic it sounded.
Noor sighed. “That wasn’t what I asked.”
