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The rest of the afternoon goes by with TJ in his office. I take messages for him and compile them onto a pad before I clock out. Walking past his door, my chest tightens. Is he okay? I lift a hand to knock but think better of it.
Like he said, it’s none of my business.
The next day, I arrive at work ten minutes early. Roger steps out of TJ’s office and closes the door behind him.
He whistles low. “He’s in a mood today.”
“Again?” I ask, planting my purse under the counter.
“What do you mean again? He seemed fine when I left yesterday.”
“I might’ve seen a piece of mail with his full name on it and asked him about it. Apparently that’s off-limits.” My fingers toy with the hem of my shirt. Should I ask Roger about who the letter was from?
Roger nods. “He doesn’t like his name.”
“Do you know why?”
“Nope. The dude is very private. He helps everyone with their shit, but nobody knows his.” He shrugs.
“How’s your wife feeling?” Better to change the subject. It feels wrong talking about TJ, especially when he’s several feet away in the next room.
“Tired and craving sugar. I’m off to pick up three different pints of ice cream for her.” He grins and shakes his head. “I can’t wait to find out the sex of the baby.”
My smile is genuine, though it’s laced with sadness. “Your family is so blessed.”
“That we are.” Roger high-fives me on his way out.
I don’t know how long I stand there, unmoving, like I’m cemented to the ground. I wonder what the sex of my baby would’ve been. So many times, I’d imagined a little girl with my dark hair, or a chubby boy with Joe’s eyes. How different my life would be right now. I’d be in my second trimester.
“You okay?” TJ’s touch on my shoulder snaps me out of my daze.
“Fine, why?”
“You’re holding your stomach. You’re not sick, are you?”
I shake my head and let my hand fall. There’s nothing in there to hold on to.
Nothing but emptiness.
“You left last night before I could apologize.”
I wave a hand. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry for snapping on you. It’s not your fault and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pried about your personal life.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s just a touchy subject for me.”
“Maybe you can tell me about it someday.”
“Yeah, maybe. Do you have plans next weekend?”
“Just studying.”
“Perfect.”
My eyebrow arches. “Why?”
