The Astro would give prestige, it would open up doors, it all but guaranteed job security. It would allow me to choose my own research direction. I’d always been in a lab, under someone, doing their research. Jenna gave me more freedom than most, but it still had to fit the scope of her work.
I could take risks.
I could ask questions.
It would also require a three-year commitment. As someone who was perpetually at the whim of her body, commitment stressed me out.
Sure, I felt okay today, but what about a week from today?
I shook my head, turning back to work. A few hours later, the sun was starting to set against the hazy, gray overcast sky. Lilac and pale pink streaked across the sky, peeking through the gray clouds.
Eames tapped my shoulder. “You coming?”
Eames had a book bag clung over his shoulder. Behind him, Olly waited in the doorway. Oh, right. We carpooled.
“I’ll take a car,” I said. “I’m gonna try to finish this. It’s almost done.”
Olly shared a look with Eames.
“What?” I said.
“Just don’t stay here too late,” Olly said, “or you’ll be ruined tomorrow.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.”
They shared another look, but after giving me a hug, Eames and Olly left.
The model ended up taking much longer than it should have, mostly because I kept adjusting different parameters. Before I knew it, it was past eight. The winter-dark sky sparkled with the city skyline.
Reluctantly, I packed up. At this rate, I’d be here until the next morning. And Olly was right—overdoing it was a recipe for a flare-up. I got the same way with the cosmos as I did with a new book—I didn’t know when to stop.
I opened the door to leave and collided into the solid form of a man. Tall. White blond. With brown eyes and the puffer jacket.
I blinked. “Graham?”
For a moment, I thoughthelooked surprised to seeme, but then he smiled. “You’re here late.”
“And you’re… Why are you here?”
It was weird for anyone outside of custodial to be here this late. Let alone myex-fiancé.
He stepped forward, forcing me to move back into the office.
“For you, of course,” he said. “Did you get my flowers?”
“I did…” I adjusted my bag’s shoulder strap. Unease coated my gut like slime.
“Didn’t like them?” he asked, walking farther into my office. He stopped in front of my computer. “What are you working on?”
Graham bent over my desktop, and I mentally cursed my inability to listen to IT. They always said to lock my station, even when I was leaving for just a minute. It locked on its own after a few, so I’d developed a bad habit of leaving it on.
Like now.
“Finishing up a paper,” I said.
“Show me?” He grabbed the mouse like he was going to explore. On a weird, inexplicable instinct, I quickly slammed the power button.
I’d fuck up all the models I had running, but something told me that was better.
