Maybe…
"Adriel?"
He startled. Miriam stood at the edge of his cubicle, a stack of manuscripts in her arms, her expression mildly curious. "You okay? You seemed a million miles away."
"Yeah." His voice came out rough. "Sorry. Just tired. Late night."
She nodded, dropped the manuscripts on his desk. "These need first reads by Friday. Nothing urgent."
"Got it."
She left. Adriel stared at the new stack and tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
The morning crawled.
At 10:15 he went to the break room for water. It was empty when he walked in, which was a relief. He filled his water bottle at the cooler. Turned to leave.
John was in the doorway. Alone this time, coffee cup in hand, his eyes landing on Adriel with something that might have been assessment.
Adriel's shoulders tightened. He moved toward the door, intending to slip past, but John didn't move.
"You look okay. Heard you were out sick yesterday."
"Yeah. Just a stomach thing. Fine now."
"Good." John took a sip of his coffee. "I've been meaning to say… what happened, with Chris. I should have shut it down harder."
Adriel blinked. "It's… it's fine."
"It's not fine. He says shit like that all the time. I should have called him on it."
Adriel didn't know what to say. He stood there, water bottle in hand, waiting.
"Anyway." John stepped aside. "Just wanted you to know. Not everyone here thinks like that."
"Thanks."
He slipped out, back into the hallway. His heart beating faster than it should have been.
At 11:30, Landen walked past.
Adriel felt the shift in the air before he looked up. Landen moved through the office the way he always did; confident, unhurried, drawing eyes without seeming to try. His path taking him directly past Adriel's desk.
Adriel held his breath as he drew level with Adriel's desk and kept walking; no pause, no glance, nothing.
Adriel's chest went cold.
He told himself it was fine. Expected. Of course Landen wouldn't acknowledge him at work. That was smart. That was safe.
It still hurt.
The morning bled into early afternoon. Adriel ate a sad desk lunch, answered emails, made notes on a manuscript. Did all thethings he was supposed to do while some part of him remained frozen.
At 2:15, Landen stopped by his desk.
Adriel looked up at the shadow falling across his work and saw him standing there, holding a file, looking down at him.
"Buchard revisions," Landen said as he held out the file. Adriel reached for it automatically, his fingers brushing Landen's as the folder changed hands.