Chapter Seventy-Six

𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚

By the time noon rolls around, I’m practically vibrating with restlessness.

I’ve powered through two meetings, edited four proposals, and smiled at people I don’t even like. My coffee’s cold. My inbox is full. But my mind—my mind is somewhere else entirely... or rather, on someone else.

Marcos.

It’s not unusual for us to go a day or two without texting. But lately, we’ve been close. Closer than I ever imagined we’d become. There’s an ease between us. A current I don’t want to name.

Still, I haven’t heard from him since yesterday. That silence lingers, like a pause in a song you know too well. The kind that makes you wonder if something’s changed.

I glance around the breakroom, then pull out my phone and shoot him a quick text:

"Hey. Just checking in. You okay?"

I hit send before I can overthink it.

Seconds pass without a response, then minutes.

I tell myself not to take it personally. He’s probably busy. Or sleeping. Or ignoring me. The last thought burns more than I want