The lobby is fairly deserted when I arrive. Sandra gave me a building ID weeks ago so I could swipe past the security turnstiles in the lobby. I have a moment of panic wondering if my badge will work, if it’s been deactivated, how far this ‘needing time’ thing goes.

But the light on the turnstile turns green and I’m through. I take the elevator to the top floor, reminding myself that Sawyer loves me, that I belong here, but the sick feeling in my stomach won’t be quieted. The elevator opens and I make my way to Sawyer’s office, my heart in my throat. I don’t even know if he’s here. Maybe this was a stupid plan.

I find Sandra at her desk and Sawyer’s office door open, the light on. I can’t see into the office from here, but I’m hoping the light indicates he’s in the office today.

“Hey, Everly!” Sandra beams a smile at me and that off feeling in my stomach subsides. It’s all in my head, surely. Sandra doesn’t think it’s odd that I’m here. Everything must be fine. Then she adds, “Have you met him yet?”

I don’t get a chance to respond because Sawyer is there, and honestly, he looks kinda pissed.

Sandra’s eyes widen and she glances between us. The movement happens in a fraction of a second, the kind of thing you know in your gut just happened but you’ll question later, wondering if you’re embellishing the encounter in your head after the fact.

“Sandra, tell Gabe I need to see him,” Sawyer says.

Sandra nods and picks up her phone.

“No, don’t call him. Find him and tell him,” he snaps.

That was the most obvious ploy to get rid of her, ever.

Sandra blinks and sets the phone back down. She’s rising from her desk when Sawyer nods to me, indicating I should follow him into his office.

I don’t want to.

This was a bad idea.

I feel like I’m about to get simultaneously broken up with and fired.

We make it three feet into his office before his cell phone rings. He glances at it, then back at me, before stopping in the middle of his office and turning in my direction.

“What do you need, Everly? Why are you here?”

He says it in a tone I’ve never gotten from him. He runs his palms across his face and I can see that he’s tired, not himself. He’s in jeans and a light brown sweater. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear jeans to the office in all the times I’ve stopped by. And I damn well know I’ve never been asked why I was here to see him. Not once.

“Are you serious?” I ask him, my voice rising. “What do I need? Why am I here?”

“Everly.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as the phone starts ringing again.

My eyes dart over to the desk where the phone is flashing. His keys are resting next to the phone, jacket laid across the desk. He’s either just walked in or he’s about to walk out. It’s late afternoon so neither option makes sense.

He walks over to the desk and glances at the screen, silencing the call, phone clenched in his fist.

“Everly,” he starts again. “I can’t do this.”

I think I’m going to throw up.

“Do what?” I press my lips tightly together and tilt my head, eyes narrowed on him. “What exactly can’t you do?”

“Us.”

The blood pounds in my ears as soon as the word leaves his lips.

“Why is that, Sawyer?”

“We’re going in two different directions, Everly.”

He doesn’t even look at me as he says it. Instead he walks to his desk, back turned to me until he gets behind it. His eyes are flat when they catch mine again, the desk between us. I don’t move any closer to him, still rooted to the spot a few feet past the threshold.