Natalie tries to find a new focus

Natalie stepped into the office building just before nine, chewing the last bite of a protein bar as she hit the elevator button. The building was already buzzing with people. Her nerves hadn’t fully calmed and she felt like she was aware of every heel striking on tile, fingers tapping against phones, voices half-lowered in Monday morning recovery.

She gave a polite smile to a guy from accounting she only knew by face, then slipped into the elevator and tapped her floor. Her reflection in the panel was fine, clean blouse, tucked-in skirt, hair styled, but she looked tired. Hollow in the eyes.

The doors opened on the fourth floor. The “Creative Wing” as the company called it. Ugh… it felt so cliché today for some reason.

The advertising team had an open-concept space of modern, half-glass walls, mid-century chairs someone from design had probably fought way too hard to get approved, for the cost based on their looks, versus the comfort you felt sitting in them. Natalie nodded at a few coworkers as she passed their desks, dropped her bag inside one of the drawers of her own, and sank into the chair with the feeling her bones didn’t want to hold her up anymore.

She pulled up her inbox.

Twelve unread emails. Three marked urgent. One flagged from her manager, Devon, with the subject line: Q4 Push - Copy Needs Review Today.

Natalie sighed and clicked it open.

She liked the work of branding concepts, tone shifts, and campaign launches, but there was always pressure. The urgency from every person that reached out to marketing that their request was more urgent than the last person, who also needed theirs put on the top of the virtual pile. Added on top of that, there was always a sense that the next opening for a promotion might show up without warning, and if she wasn’t on her game, someone else would slide into it.

She’d been told more than once she was “next in line” for a senior strategist role, but that had been said last November, too. And again, in February.

The screen blurred a little as her thoughts drifted. She couldn’t get her mind to stay focused on her emails, and certainly not to the pitch deck she was supposed to be reviewing.

Aiden… on her couch with his hand in motion and the sounds of squelching emphasizing the grunts coming from him. It seemed like it was all she could think of now.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. She grabbed her phone instead and checked her messages. Nothing new from Matt. She scrolled to his name anyway and typed something out.

Natalie: Hey. I think I could use that drink after all. You around tonight?

His reply came within minutes.

Matt: Absolutely. You want to meet at that Italian place near Midtown?

She stared at the message for a moment, considering her response. She knew the chain restaurant he was thinking of. The place was fine, she had nothing against it, usually, but it wasn’t what she had in mind for tonight. A little too much lighting, a little too much noise, with too many people for what she wanted tonight.

Natalie: How about your place instead?

A pause. Then-

Matt: Yeah. Sure. I can cook a little. Did you have anything in mind?

Natalie: Up to you. Cook, pick something up. Doesn’t even matter.

Matt: What time were you thinking?

Natalie: Does 7 work for you?

Matt: Alright. Come hungry then.

Her last text back to him was a single winking emoji.

She let the screen dim before setting the phone face-down on her desk. For her, tonight wasn’t about romance, or conversation. She didn’t even want to linger. She just needed to be touched. Needed release from someone’s hands other than her own.

Even if it wasn’t coming from the person she hadn’t stopped thinking about since Saturday night.

After setting her date for the evening, she felt more focused. Natalie stopped checking the clock, stopped checking for texts she wasn’t expecting, stopped wondering if Aiden would be in the kitchen when she got home, waiting for her to make dinner.

She had a plan now. Something to lean into. And while it wasn’t perfect, or who she wanted, it would be enough. Something to help open the relief valve.

She pulled her hair into a loose bun as she became all business. Clicking into the Q4 strategy doc, she began hammering out copy changes one paragraph at a time. Stronger transitions. Tighter calls to action. Sharper messaging. Everything she knew how to do, now moving faster than things had all morning.

Her company’s message app pinged twice, yet she ignored it. The intern team dropped something off at her desk and she nodded, but didn’t look up. When she finally paused to sip from her water bottle, her cursor blinked beside the last note from Devon, now fully revised.

She exhaled, leaned back, and let a grin edge in at the corner of her mouth. For the first time in two days, her body didn’t feel like it was stuck in limbo. She wasn’t craving answers. She wasn’t overthinking. She’d had something coming, other than going home to what was no longer her space alone, occupied by the current focus of her obsession. Something that broke the thought cycle and let her concentrate on other things.

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