Chapter 6 Six

Chapter 6 Six
I woke the next morning with a strange heaviness in my chest. It was not fear exactly. It was not anxiety either. It felt like a quiet tension that kept stretching itself thin, waiting for the moment it would snap. The upcoming meeting with the consultant sat at the back of my mind like a weight that refused to move.

I reached for my robe and made my way to the kitchen. Lily was already awake. She sat cross-legged on the living room floor in front of the puzzle, her eyes focused and her hair falling messily around her face.

“You are up early,” I said.

She looked up and grinned. “I wanted to see if it still glows. It does not glow now because the sun is out.”

She sounded disappointed, and I smiled lightly. “It will glow again tonight if we charge it by the light.”

She nodded as if that solved everything. I watched her for a moment, absorbing her innocence, and tried to tuck away the ache that always rose when I thought about Adrian becoming part of this world she knew. I did not know what that world would look like once he stepped inside it.

After breakfast, I helped her gather her things for daycare. She insisted on bringing one puzzle piece with her for good luck. I almost said no, but her determined expression made me stop. If a small star-shaped piece of glowing cardboard made her happy, I would not take that from her.

When I dropped her off, the teacher smiled and said Lily had been doing better with group activities. I left feeling lighter, even if only slightly.

The drive to work passed quickly. I parked, walked through the lobby, and headed toward my office. My morning routine helped settle me. A hot cup of coffee. A quick review of emails. A list of tasks for the day. Small rituals that reminded me I still had control over most parts of my life.

Around nine thirty, a message popped up on my phone.

Consultation confirmed for Friday at four thirty. Location: Conference Room Seven B. Please confirm attendance.

I typed a short acknowledgment and placed the phone face down on my desk. I stared out the window for a long moment before forcing myself back to work.

A soft knock pulled me out of a spreadsheet several minutes later.

“Come in,” I called.

Maya stepped inside, holding a stack of folders. “I wanted to go over the market projections before the afternoon meeting.”

She placed the folders on my desk and pulled a chair over. For the next twenty minutes, we reviewed the data, highlighted the discrepancies, and adjusted the timeline. It was normal. Straightforward. No heavy emotions. Exactly what I needed.

When we finished, she stood and gave me a measured look.

“You seem quieter lately.”

I kept my expression neutral. “Just adjusting to the workload.”

Her eyes lingered on me for a second as if deciding whether to press the issue, but she let it go. “You are doing well. Let me know if you need anything.”

After she left, I allowed myself a small sigh. Keeping everything separate was becoming harder. Work had always been the one place where I could compartmentalize, but this situation with Adrian threatened to bleed into every corner.

At eleven thirty, my office phone rang.

“Ms. Hart,” the receptionist said. “You have a delivery waiting.”

Another box. My heart skipped in an uncomfortable way.

I took the elevator down to the lobby. The receptionist handed me a narrow rectangular package with my name printed neatly. It was smaller than the puzzle box but heavier.

“Thank you,” I said and carried it back upstairs.

I set it on my desk and hesitated. It could have been from anyone, but I already knew who it was from. Adrian was careful, but he was also predictable in some ways. He tended to act quickly once he made up his mind.

I opened the box.

Inside was a book. A children’s book. Hard cover. Bright illustrations on the front. The title read: The Moon In My Pocket.

A small card sat inside.

A story for her to enjoy. I read reviews. They say it helps with imagination and bedtime routines. Thought she would like it.

A subtle warmth settled inside me before I could fight it. It was not the gift itself. It was the fact that he had looked for something meaningful rather than something expensive. He was paying attention. He had always been observant, but he had never used that trait gently.

I reached for my phone.

Before I could type anything, it buzzed.

Did the package arrive.

Yes.

Good. I hope she likes it. It is simple but thoughtful.

I stared at the screen longer than necessary. Then I responded.

She will like it.

Another message came through after a few seconds.

Thank you for letting me do something small for her.

There was nothing else to say, so I put the phone away and turned my focus to work.

The afternoon moved slowly. Meetings. Reports. Deadlines. My concentration was uneven, but I managed to stay productive. Still, every few hours, my thoughts drifted back to the book sitting on my desk.

At four, I took a short break to clear my mind. I walked down the hallway toward the break room. As I filled a cup with cold water, I felt someone step beside me.

I did not need to turn to know who it was.

Adrian slid a cup under the water dispenser and glanced at me briefly. “I wanted to make sure you received the book.”

“I did,” I said. “Thank you.”

“You do not have to thank me.”

“I do not want you to think you need to do this.”

He paused. “Do what.”

“Send things. Gifts. Books. Puzzles. It is a lot at once.”

He lowered his cup. “If it feels like too much, tell me. I am learning as I go.”

The honesty in his tone disarmed me. “It is not too much. I just do not want Lily to become overwhelmed.”

“I would never do anything to overwhelm her.”

I studied his face. He seemed calm. Calm in a way that made him look strangely approachable. I did not know what to do with the version of him who spoke without cutting edges.

“We should talk,” he said quietly. “Not about the consultation. Just talk.”

“I do not think that is a good idea,” I replied.

“Why not.”

“Because we already have too much between us.”

He held my gaze. “That is exactly why we need to talk.”

I felt myself grow tense, not because I was scared, but because I knew he was right.

“Not now,” I said. “Not here.”

He nodded slowly and stepped back. “All right. When you are ready.”

I returned to my office and closed the door gently behind me. I pressed my fingers to my temples and took several deep breaths. I felt stretched thin in a way I had not felt in years.

At five o clock, I gathered my bag and left the building. When I picked up Lily, she ran to me with a drawing of a moon inside a big circle.

“This is the moon I want to put in my pocket,” she announced proudly.

I froze.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked.

“My friend,” she said. “We were talking about the sky.”

Relief filled me, but it was fragile. I smiled at her and kissed the top of her head.

At home, I showed her the new book. Her entire face lit up.

“Read it,” she begged.

We sat on the couch together and read the story. It was gentle and simple. A child trying to capture the moon, only to discover that the moon was always there even when out of sight. Lily listened quietly, absorbing every line.

When we finished, she hugged the book to her chest. “I love it.”

I swallowed, my heart tightening.

Later, after bath time and bedtime, I checked my phone. A new message waited.

Did she like the book.

She loved it. Thank you.

I am glad.

I typed a reply but erased it. I typed another and erased that too. I finally turned the phone off and set it aside.

I walked into the living room and sat on the floor with the puzzle again. The glow was faint tonight. The pieces held a soft light like something breathing slowly.

I placed my hand on the edge of the puzzle and let myself sit with my thoughts.

I did not know where all of this was going. I did not know what would happen after the consultation. I did not know if Adrian would remain patient. I did not know if I would ever trust him enough to let him take a place in Lily’s life.

But for the first time since his reappearance, I did not feel like running.

That realization alone frightened me more than anything else had.

As I turned off the lights and prepared for bed, one lingering thought stayed with me.

Adrian was becoming present in small ways.

And small things had a way of growing when you were not careful.