I stayed late at the office every night, avoiding my quiet apartment.

I ordered takeout food and ate it at my desk, surrounded by schematics of solar grids.

One evening, the office was empty except for me.

The clean white desks were dark under the moonlight shining through the glass walls.

My desk lamp cast a warm circle of yellow light on my papers.

I heard the front door of the suite click open.

I stood up, my heart beating faster.

“Who’s there?” I called out.

A figure stepped into the light of the hallway.

It was Derek.

He looked tired, his jacket thrown over one shoulder.

“I need to talk to you, Sarah,” he said.

His voice was quiet, lacking his usual confidence.

“Did Mom send you?” I asked, keeping the desk between us.

“No,” he said, sitting down in the guest chair.

“She doesn’t know I’m here.”

He looked down at his shoes, then back up at me.

“That speech,” he said. “Everyone is talking about it.”

“I meant what I said, Derek.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s what scares me.”