Page 53 of I Hope This Finds You Well

I hate how miserable he looks. I hate how much I understand the feeling—the pressure to live up to someone’s expectations, to make them believe you’re doing okay.

I should walk away now. But his shoulders are so low, so I say, “Trust me, we don’t want to push our luck. I’d definitely screw up and forget to call you the executive or something.”

His eyes flash up to mine sharply. Shit. My heart drops into my stomach as I realize just how thoroughly I’ve put my foot in my mouth.

“Did anything about my job come up yesterday?” His brow furrows.

I shake my head. “No, no. I was just making up a random example. Imean, of the lies we tell our parents. About our love lives, and our jobs, and stuff.”

“Ah.” He nods. His face is completely blank. Fuck. “Got it.”

He leaves the copy room first, his eyes flashing toward me one last time as he turns the corner.

I keep glancing toward Armin’s desk for the rest of the morning, but he stays silent behind the cube divider. When I get up under the pretense of filling my water bottle, I spot him slumped in his chair scrolling around on his phone. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least.

Rhonda spends the morning focusing on the archive project. She makes her daily unanswered call to Carl and checks her Silver Timings daily summary email.

I spend the hour using Caitlin’s password to log in to her private server folder, download the documents she prepared for the upcoming presentation, and slowly freak out. Armin was right, she could crush me. When she presents this thorough, well-researched plan and I don’t present anything at all—well, I don’t know if anything else I’ve done so far will matter.

My fingers hover over Armin’s name in the chat app, tingling to message him that I’ll take his deal. But even if I do, would a good word from him in an HR meeting still be enough to save me after Caitlin kicks my ass in this meeting? It’s like watching myself drown through a window.

After the ten a.m. coffee break, Caitlin returns from the boardroom behind me. The chemical scent of her fresh nail polish tinges my nostrils. Deep sigh. Only Caitlin would be selfish enough to paint her nails in here. I’m about to send her a glare to mark the completion of her manicure, when I catch something glinting on her finger as she waves her hands to speed up the drying process. Is that a diamond freaking ring?

Is Caitlin engaged? Why didn’t she make a giant announcement for all her 1,264 followers? She posts when Kyle makes her unseasoned chicken breast with boiled frozen vegetables, #menwhocook.

But of course, just as I am thinking this, Caitlin props her handagainst the neutral wall and snaps a picture with her phone. The post appears on her feed shortly after, #4evaisnotlongenough.

Joy screeches first—from across the unit, yet loud enough to startle my internal organs. She trots toward Caitlin’s cubicle, snatches up her hand, and calls, “Oh, girl! You’re engaged! Why didn’t you tell us?”

Caitlin’s cheeks pinken. “It literally happened yesterday! Kyle booked a last-minute trip to Banff, and we had a no-phone rule!”

The office erupts in claps as more people rush toward her. Garret swats everyone away to pull Caitlin’s wrist up. “Is this white gold?” he asks. She nods sheepishly while Rhonda curls both her hands together against her chest and says, “We’ve got a wedding to help plan!”

I try to force a smile. I should probably join the group and mutter some fake words of congratulations. But it’s like I’m glued to my chair. It’s like I’m stuck in place.

Armin stands up. “Congratulations, Caitlin,” he says. His gaze drifts to me.

Gregory joins the throng and pulls Caitlin in for a non-consensual hug. Stu does the fingers-in-mouth type of whistle, for some reason.

“Who knew, when you started, we’d be celebrating your engagement at this very desk?” Rhonda squeaks.

Caitlin’s tinkling laugh pushes through the room. “I mean, it’s notthatsurprising. Years have passed and life happens.” Her gaze drifts over my desk, but not at me.

More laughter and cheery congratulatory remarks all blur into a muddle. She has a whole life outside of here. They all do.

Something cold tickles my cheek, sending a shock through me: a single tear. I wipe the confusing offender away before anyone has the chance to see. But another wet mark pulls down, as intrusive as the last.

I must just be happy for her. I focus all my willpower on forcing my lips to smile.Sohappy.

I’m wiping the third and final tear with my sleeve when I catch Armin staring. He quickly diverts his eyes and turns his chair toward his screen before I can say anything to brush it off.

A message appears a few moments later.

Armin:Hey, I was thinking. You did me a pretty big solid last night when you didn’t have to. So, at my meeting tomorrow, I’m going to still say only nice things about you.

He must be pitying me again. It’s crushing, but also relieving in the same measure.

Jolene:Thanks. I really appreciate that.