Chapter 2

That night, I fell into an exhausted sleep on my couch, the TV droning on in the background. My dreams took me back to my childhood, to a sun-drenched afternoon in my grandfather' s dusty workshop. He was teaching me how to carve a small wooden bird, his large, calloused hands guiding my small ones. The smell of sawdust and varnish filled the air. "See, Sarah," he'd said, his voice a low rumble. "You have to see the shape inside the wood before you ever pick up the knife. You have to feel it."

The warmth of the memory was comforting, a safe harbor. But then the dream shifted, the sunny workshop dissolving into the cold, modern lobby of our office building. It was the night of the annual firm party three years ago. I was wearing a new dress, my heart pounding in my chest. I finally worked up the courage to tell David how I felt. I found him alone by the windows overlooking the city lights.

"David," I had started, my voice trembling slightly. "I just wanted to tell you..."

He turned, his expression unreadable. "Sarah. You've been a great asset to the team."

"It's more than that for me," I blurted out, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "I really like you. I have for a long time."

The silence that followed was suffocating. He didn't smile, didn't react. He just looked at me with that same cool, distant gaze. "I see," he said finally. "We have a professional relationship, Sarah. Let's keep it that way." He turned back to the window, dismissing me completely. The rejection was a clean, sharp cut.

I was jolted awake by the shrill ring of my phone. I fumbled for it on the coffee table, my head fuzzy from the dream. It was David.

"My phone, Sarah. Where is it?" he demanded without a hello. His voice was cold, impatient.

"What? Your phone?" I mumbled, trying to clear my head. "I don't know."

"You were the last one to use the conference room for the Sterling proposal. My phone was on the table. Henderson needs me at the construction site downtown, and I can't find it. Did you take it?"

"No, I... I didn't see it," I stammered, now fully awake and scrambling to my feet. "I'll check my bag."

"Emily is already on her way to pick me up," he said, his tone softening slightly when he mentioned her name. "Just find it and have it ready. We're losing time." He hung up.

The blatant favoritism stung. He wouldn't have spoken to Emily that way. I found his phone tangled in the power cord for my laptop at the bottom of my work tote. An accident, but I knew he wouldn't see it that way. I rushed to get ready, the drive to the site looming over me.

The car ride with David and Emily was excruciating. The air was thick with a silence that was only broken by the low murmur of the radio. Rain began to streak down the windshield, the gray, oppressive weather matching my mood perfectly. Emily sat in the passenger seat, occasionally pointing something out to David, who would respond with a low chuckle. I sat in the back, invisible.

Suddenly, David's phone, which I had placed on the center console, buzzed. A notification lit up the screen. It was a calendar reminder: "Dinner with Emily' s parents. Discuss ring."

My breath caught in my throat. A ring. He was going to propose. The words on the screen confirmed the reality I had been trying to deny. It wasn' t just a crush on his part. It was serious. All my hopes, all the tiny signs I had misinterpreted over the years, collapsed into a pile of ashes.

"Is that my phone?" David asked, glancing back. "What's the notification?"

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to remain calm. "Just a reminder," I said, my words feeling like sawdust in my mouth. "For a dinner reservation."

He nodded, turning his attention back to the road. He didn' t notice the way my hands were trembling.

"We should all go out for a celebratory dinner once the Sterling project is green-lit," Emily said cheerfully, turning to look at both of us. "My treat."

"I might have other plans," I said quietly, looking out the window at the rain-slicked streets. The city I once loved now felt like a cage. Thirty days. Twenty-nine now. I couldn't get out of here fast enough.