Work

Emily stepped out of the elevator onto the fourth floor, adjusting the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder. The scent of toner, coffee, and too-strong air freshener hit her like a wave—familiar, sterile, oddly comforting. She hadn’t expected to miss this place. But after months of diapers, burp cloths, and sleepless nights, even the dull gray walls and low office chatter felt like a kind of escape. Thank goodness for the sitter.

She checked her reflection in the dark glass of a conference room. Her cardigan was buttoned. Her nursing bra didn’t show through. The high-waisted slacks hugged her hips a little more than they used to, but not in a way she disliked. Her makeup was minimal, just enough to even her skin and bring back some color. She still looked tired—but not haggard. Not invisible.

“Hey, Em.”

She turned.

It was Eric, from marketing. Just a few years older, maybe thirty, always dressed well enough to stand out in their mostly casual office. His button-down was rolled at the sleeves, collar a little loose, like he’d been working since dawn. His eyes flicked over her, fast—just fast enough to catch it. A glance down, then back up. He smiled.

“You look… good. It’s nice to have you back.”

Emily blinked, caught a little off guard by the warmth in his voice. “Thanks. It’s… weird, honestly.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine.” He paused. “How’s the little one?”

“Good. Fat, loud, no concept of sleep.” She smiled automatically, hand absently brushing her stomach.

Eric laughed softly. “Sounds like a dream.”

She moved toward the break room. He followed without needing an excuse.

“You still like hazelnut?” he asked, gesturing toward the coffee machine. “I remember you used to add way too much sugar.”

She raised a brow. “You remember how I take my coffee?”

“Sure. Hazelnut, two sugars, splash of cream. I used to make a mental note when I ran into you in the mornings.”

She tilted her head. “You never brought me one.”

He smirked. “Guess I thought it’d be weird. You know—married woman, baby on the way, me standing there with a coffee like I’m trying to impress you.”

The comment hung in the air. Not aggressive. Not inappropriate. But deliberate. He didn’t look away.

Emily gave a soft laugh, more flattered than amused. “Well… I wouldn’t have minded.”

Their fingers brushed at the counter as she reached for a stir stick.

Neither of them commented on it.

-0-

They walked back toward her desk, coffees in hand. Eric’s office was just two doors down, close enough to see her when she stood or leaned over her chair.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said as he turned to go. “Printer’s been acting up again. Or, you know. If you just want to talk.”

He winked. Subtle. Not smarmy. Just enough to leave her wondering.

Emily sat slowly, her cheeks still warm. The coffee tasted exactly how she liked it.

She’d forgotten what it felt like to be noticed. Not as a mother. Not as someone’s wife.

Just… her.