Chapter 23
BETH
By October, the office had gone quiet in a way that felt wrong.
Not peaceful. Not focused.
Just… hollow.
The kind of quiet that follows something breaking.
I stood at the copier pretending to sort papers I didn’t need while my eyes kept drifting to the row of cubicles near the windows. Chris’s was empty now. Cleaned out so thoroughly it looked like no one had ever sat there at all.
No coffee mug.
No family photo.
No stupid bobblehead.
Just beige carpet and a desk wiped down too well.
No one had said goodbye to him. No email. No announcement. He’d been there on Friday, joking about a presentation. On Monday, he was gone.
That’s how things worked now.
I was feeding another pointless stack of paper into the machine when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Sage.
I frowned and answered quietly. “Hey.”
She didn’t say hello.
“He’s dead,” she said.
My stomach dropped. “Who?”
“My ex. Montgomery.” Her voice cracked on the name. “His sister emailed me. He was in the towers. He didn’t make it.”
The copier whined as it spat out the last page. I grabbed it and turned away, heart hammering.
“Oh, Sage,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t even know until today,” she went on, words tumbling out fast, sharp. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That he was just… gone. That time had taken care of it. I never got to say anything. He was a father. He left a widow and babies behind. I never—”
“Hey,” I said softly. “Where are you right now?”
“At my desk. I can’t breathe.”
I looked around the office. Everyone had their heads down. No one noticed anything unless it disrupted a meeting.
“Do you want to come with me this weekend?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I’d fully formed them. “To my mom’s. North Peabody. You don’t have to talk. Or do anything. Just… not be alone.”
There was a pause. Then a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Please.”
After I hung up, I stood there longer than necessary, staring at the copier like it had answers.
At lunch, Ethan asked if I wanted to grab something downstairs.
We walked together but didn’t talk much. The deli was crowded, loud in that forced way, people pretending things were normal. We sat at a small table near the window.
He looked tired. Not hungover tired. Deeper than that.
“Sage called you,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “Her ex died. He was in the towers.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Shit.”
We sat with that.
“She’s not staying at your place anymore,” I said, not accusing. Just observing.
“No,” he said. “Not after New York. We’re done and I mean it.”
His fingers worried the edge of his napkin. I watched him the way you watch someone you care about but don’t quite recognize anymore.
“You okay?” I asked.
He huffed a laugh. “I don’t know. I think I forgot what quiet feels like.”
When we stood to leave, we passed Chris’s empty cubicle again. Ethan slowed too this time. He didn’t say anything, but his shoulders stiffened.
“Do you think he’s okay?” I asked.
Ethan shook his head slightly. “I think everyone is just trying to figure out where their life goes next.”
That stuck with me.
I picked Sage up Friday evening.
She looked smaller than usual, curled in on herself in the passenger seat. Her eyes were red but dry now, like she’d cried everything out earlier and had nothing left.
My mom made carbonara. Real carbonara. Pancetta sizzling in the pan, eggs and cheese whisked together carefully so they didn’t scramble. The house smelled warm and familiar, like effort.
Sage ate without commenting. Drank wine. Laughed at something my mom said, then went quiet again just as fast.
Later, after my mom went to bed, Sage sat on the couch hugging a pillow to her chest.
“I loved him,” she said suddenly. “My ex. I really did.”
I didn’t interrupt.
“He wanted a house. Kids. A whole plan.” She swallowed. “I thought I had time to grow into it. I thought I’d figure it out.”
She stared at the dark television screen like it might show her something.
“Now it’s just… gone.”
I moved closer, leaned my shoulder into hers. She didn’t pull away.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said.
She nodded, tears finally slipping free.
Outside, the wind rattled the windows. The world didn’t stop. It never did.
But for one night, at least, she didn’t have to face it alone.