He Stopped to Save a Dying Stranger on the Highway—Three Days … – Real Life Diaries – Page 36

Maybe because I had expected it to feel like mine forever.

There were framed photos of Emily and the girls.

A coffee mug Claire painted for me with one handle thicker than the other because kids are honest with clay.

A legal pad with half-finished notes for the presentation that never happened.

Pens.

Headphones.

A stress ball shaped like a football.

Three client folders.

A spare tie in the drawer.

I packed slowly.

Every item felt strangely intimate, like evidence from a version of my life already ending.

A couple coworkers stopped by.

One said she was sorry.

Another whispered that what Nick did was messed up.

A third just stood there awkwardly and said, “Good luck, man,” like I was headed off to war.

Nick didn’t come near me.

I saw him once through the glass wall of his office, talking on the phone, pacing, not looking my way.