Page 7 of Life’s Too Short

I let out a steadying breath and looked up at her where she stood by the door.

She swiped at her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what else to say.”

She swung her laptop bag over her shoulder, then paused for a long beat. “I’ll miss you.”

She gave me one more apologetic look and then let herself out.

* * *

Ten hours later, my paralegal dropped a file on my desk, and I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes.

“What’s your deal today?” Becky asked unceremoniously.

She was chewing gum. Loudly. Again.

I liked my paralegal/assistant. She did a good job. She was driven and competent. She’d started as an intern and done such a good job that I’d hired her full-time. But as much as I liked her, sometimes it was a little like having a high schooler working for me instead of a paid professional. Becky had zero filter. She did not give a shit. Not only would she tell me I had coffee on my tie, she’d tell me she thought the tie was ugly too.

“Lose the gum, please,” I muttered, opening the file. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

She plucked the gum out of her mouth and stood there holding it, as I flipped through pages. “Yeah, you’re, like, more emo than usual today.”

I took a deep breath. “I think I might cut out early.”

She blinked at me. “Okay, you’re not gonna, like, go home and start writing depressing haikus, are you? Because that would be really unfair for me to have to read that stuff.”

I scoffed. “No, I am not going to go home and start writing haikus.”

“Good. Though you should know that your horoscope today said your life is about to change drastically.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “You read my horoscope?”

“We’re both Capricorns?” she said impatiently, like this was something I should know.

She put a hand on her hip. “You never go home early. You’ve been super off for like two months now. You haven’t been going to the gym—”

“How do you know I haven’t been going to the gym?” I mumbled, talking to the file I was flipping through.

“Because my boyfriend goes to that Life Time Fitness and he says you would go like every day and now you don’t go at all. You barely finish your lunches, you’re all mopey. What’s your deal?”

I puffed my cheeks and looked away from the paperwork in front of me. “I don’t know. I’m not having the best year. And Rachel and I broke up.”

“Good, I hated her.”

I scoffed, looking at her. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged unapologetically. “Never liked her. And her Instagram looks like a sock puppet account.”

I wrinkled my forehead at her. “A what?”

She made a frustrated noise. “Oh my God, you are such a boomer! A sock. Puppet. Account?” she said, slower, like that would somehow convey the meaning. “A fake?”

I pressed my lips together with a tight nod. “Well, that makes sense,” I said. “And it would have been nice if you would have pointed that out sooner.” I closed my file. “I just need to take a personal day today.”

Becky made a resigned noise. “Fine. I’ll clear your schedule. But I swear to God, Adrian, you’d better get out of this funk. Why don’t you, like, adopt a dog or something?”

My mom had said the same thing a few weeks ago. Apparently dogs are the answer to all life’s problems.

“Don’t get a cat,” she went on. “It’ll walk around pushing your drinks off the coffee table. You’re not emotionally strong enough for that.”