Too far, back to work

You stare a while longer. The weight of what she just said sits between you in the quiet kitchen, her words still hanging in the air, her eyes still on yours. The sisterly familiarity has cracked open into something sharper and far more dangerous.

Then the moment stretches too far. You clear your throat and take a step back.

“I need to get back to those numbers,” you say, the excuse sudden and thin. “Cheryl will have my head if I am not ready for the meeting.”

You pick up your coffee, give Ruby a brief nod that does not quite meet her eyes again, and walk out of the kitchen before either of you can say anything else. The unfinished edge from earlier is back, tighter than before, and the corridor back to your desk feels longer than it should.