Page 82 of The Wrong Side of the Law

“Thank you,” Emily says. “And yeah, I’ll have a little heart to heart with Frank. But later…” Emily stands, slings her bag over her shoulder and waits for me to stand as well. “Later tonight, there’s something I think we should talk about.”

I raise an eyebrow in silent question.

“Can I come by tonight? To your place?”

Since that first night, she’s never asked if she could come over. She’s just…toldme she’d be over. Then yesterday happened, and it was the first time in a week that she didn’t come over. And now she’s asking. And she wants to talk about something.

It’s not a good sign.

“Yeah, of course,” I say, hoping she doesn’t see through the casual words and recognize the pit opening up in my gut. “I’m going to stay here for a bit, so text me when you’re on your way.”

“Will do,” she answers, and then she’s out the door.

It’s strange how empty the office feels without her there. I never really noticed it before, but there’s definitely something missing when she’s gone. Staying here until she’s ready to come over is infinitely better than going home, though I lived there for years, perfectly satisfied with my self-imposed solitude.

This past week wasn’t even enough time for the two of us to define what our relationship is, but it was more than enough time for my solitary contentment to vanish.

No matter what the emptiness here at work is like, it’s nothing like the void I’ll face going back to my condo without her.

* * *

---