When I stayed past nine, he’d leave a cup of tea on my desk without a word. When I bulldozed a hard negotiation, he was the steady presence at my back, never trying to overshadow me.

“You don’t have to outrun the demons every day, Sarah,” he said one evening, leaning in my doorway. “Sometimes it’s okay to sit still and let them pass.”

For the first time in my life I felt seen. Not used. Not pitied. Seen.

But just as the California sun was thawing the ice around my heart, my phone buzzed. A text from Pam, my old Chicago neighbor.

Brace yourself. They just threw a rushed wedding in the lobby. She’s ready to pop any day. Diane is insufferable.

She attached a photo: Michael in a stiff tuxedo, looking exhausted. Khloe in a white maternity gown, smiling in triumph. And off to the side, staring at the bride with an intensity that made my skin crawl, was Robert.