43
SELENA
FLASHBACK
A week later, I walked through the same doors. Different clothes. Still dark. Still hiding.
I found my desk. Introduced myself to people whose names I forgot immediately. Got lost twice. Ended up in the break room, staring at a coffee machine I didn't know how to use.
"You look lost."
I turned. He was standing there. Jeans. Sweater. Hair messy. Coffee cup in hand. Not the man from the interview. Someone softer. Warmer.
"I am lost."
He smiled. Walked to the machine. Made a cup. Handed it to me. "There. Now you're caffeinated and slightly less lost."
I almost smiled. Almost. "Thanks."
"Selena, right?"
"You hired me a week ago."
"I know." He leaned against the counter. "But that was an interview. This is real life. In real life, I'm just a guy who's very good with coffee machines."
"And in interviews?"
"In interviews, I'm a guy who can tell when someone's hurting."
I went still. He didn't push. Didn't ask. Just nodded toward the door.
"Break room's always open if you need to hide. I won't tell anyone."
He walked out. I stood there, holding the coffee, feeling something I hadn't felt in weeks. Warmth. Just a flicker. But it was there.