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Coffee in hand, I slowed my step, feeling my heart beat a notch faster for some reason.
But I forced it back down as I picked my stride up again, trying to look normal so that none of my new coworkers would feel the need to so much as glance in my direction.
Because for some reason, that manila envelope—despite being a perfectly normal object in this office—was sending a little prickle up my spine. Making my cheeks feel warm.
You are being very weird, I told myself as I quickly sat at my desk, grabbed the thing and opened it up, eager to prove to myself that I was on edge for no reason at all. It’s just a new hire packet. A welcome to the company, I predicted, remembering that I still hadn’t gotten mine yet.
But when I reached inside, it wasn’t a packet. It was multiple pieces of paper. Of all textures and sizes.
What on earth?
Reaching in, I took out the first piece I felt—a light blue Post-It note with white patterns at the edges.
Just like the ones I had on my desk at home in New York.
My heart thumped as I stared at the words written on it in neat handwriting that wasn’t mine.
- She came home safe
-What she said before going to bed
My heart stopped.
It was Iain’s handwriting.
I hadn’t seen it much and I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did. Wait. What is this?
Frantic, I poured out the contents of the envelope onto my desk, grabbing and unfolding a sheet of lined yellow paper from a memo pad.
And now I understood, because I remembered seeing this very paper on his desk the night I surprised him during his late night at the office.
- Rescued me from the depths of hell with a hand massage.
- Survived the call despite the fact that she just blew my fucking mind
My hand covered my mouth as I laughed, shaking my head, emotion swelling in my chest. My eyes were bright, unblinking, my heart tripping over itself as I went hastily through all the messages scrawled on what seemed like whatever Iain had closest at the time. The back of a data report. A sheet ripped from his planner. I was laughing out loud by the time I found a loose cocktail napkin.
- Adam. Best brother I could ask for.
- I’ll never forget that jump. Watching her jump in after me.
- I’m never going to get through this massive jug of maple syrup but I like looking at it in the morning so it stays
“Oh my God.”
I was trying to muffle my laughter at this point, because some of my coworkers were stealing odd glances at me, but I really couldn’t give it that much thought, especially as I realized that Iain had started these the very night I told him about my gratitude journal in my bedroom. Mere hours after I suggested he try it. I had said it so in passing, because I didn’t think I’d ever convince him of my ways at that point. But apparently I had.
Apparently, he’d been writing these for weeks now. They started short. Just a few words at a time. But over the weeks, the thoughts grew longer. More detailed, because he was buying in.
There was even one whole sheet from the weeks after the fight. After all the media drama.
- Grateful for Drew’s crazy ass
- Grateful for the comfort of my home
- The way she runs straight into my arms after coming home from work
- Every morning I’m struck by how fucking beautiful she is.
