The call ended.
I stood by the window, staring at the sky outside. My eyes stung without warning.
It wasn't self-pity. It was the feeling of someone having my back. I'd gone so long without it.
When my mom arrived, she brought six homemade buns, a jar of hot sauce, and my dad's savings.
She slapped the savings down on the table. "Take this. Find a better apartment. This place is too small to breathe in."
"Mom, I have money."
"Your money is your business. This is my heart." She sat on the edge of my bed, glanced around the room, and sighed. "You've lost weight."
I didn't say anything.
"Has he come looking for you?"
"Yeah."
"What'd you say?"
"Didn't see him."
She nodded. "Good. A man like that isn't worth the air he breathes."
I looked at the gray streaks in her hair and suddenly remembered being a kid, coming home after getting bullied. She'd said the exact same thing then. Don't bother with them. They're not worth our time.
That night, she slept in my three-foot-wide bed. We were packed in so tight neither of us could roll over, but she slept like a rock. I lay there listening to her breathing and didn't sleep at all.
Somewhere around dawn, things became clear.
For my mom's sake, if nothing else, I had to keep going.
At the end of July, I switched jobs.
Clay knew the address of my old company. He'd show up downstairs every few days, just lingering. I didn't want to see him, so I quit.
The new company was on the east side of the city, a digital media startup. The pay was two thousand less a month, but the team was young and the energy was good.
On my first day, HR walked me around the office. When we passed the tech department, a guy looked up and glanced at me.
"This is Lydia Fox, new hire in content operations."
"Hey." He nodded, then dropped his gaze back to his screen.
I didn't think much of it and kept following HR down the hall.
I found out later his name was Valentine James. Tech department team lead. Two years older than me.
Not bad-looking. Quiet. But when he looked at you, his eyes were bright.
Mid-August, the company organized a team dinner.
I didn't want to go, but my manager said new hires needed to show face at these things and practically dragged me there.
A whole table of people, loud and rowdy. I sat in the corner, head down, picking at my food.
"Let me guess. You got dragged here too?"
I looked up. Valentine sat down beside me, a bottle of Coke in his hand.
"You too?"
"I'm not big on crowds." He poured me a glass. "But they said if the team lead doesn't show, nobody relaxes."
I smiled a little.
That night, he talked to me for a long time. He told me he was from a small town in the Midwest, had been in Graystone City for five years, spent three of those years coding before getting promoted to team lead last year. He told me he had a cat named Deuce, because of the two stripes on its tail.
He told me he wasn't great with people, which was why he was still single.
When he said that last part, he was looking right at me.
I dropped my gaze and pretended I didn't catch his meaning.
In September, the company landed a big project. Overtime became the norm.
One night past ten, I was the last one out. The elevator doors opened, and Valentine was inside.
"This late?" he asked.
"You're here this late too."
He smiled. "I live upstairs. Whether I'm working overtime or not, I leave around this time anyway."
The elevator descended. Floor by floor, neither of us spoke.
When we reached the lobby, I stepped out. He followed.
"Hey," he called after me. "Where do you live?"
I gave him the general area.
"That's pretty far. The subway's done running by now. How are you getting home?"
"I'll grab a cab."
He checked his phone. "Cabs are hard to get this late. Want me to give you a ride?"
"I'm fine."
"I'm not a creep." He smiled. "It's on my way. I'm just two stops past your place."
