Later, sitting in my car, I stared out at the parking lot, watching as people came and went, each immersed in their own lives, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that had just unfolded inside my head. I reached for my phone again, hesitating before dialing the number I knew by heart. « Hello? » his voice came through, familiar yet distant.
« We need to talk, » I said, trying to keep my tone steady. « It’s about the results. » There was a pause on the other end, the kind that stretches time and makes every second feel like an hour. « I see, » he finally replied, his voice betraying no emotion.
We arranged to meet later that evening. As I drove home, my mind replayed the events of the morning, searching for a different outcome, a different reality. But each time, I came back to the same conclusion. The truth was there, undeniable and unyielding. It was a reality I couldn’t escape, no matter how much I wished I could.
The house was quiet when I entered, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. I set the folder down on the kitchen table, its presence a reminder of the conversation that awaited. I busied myself making tea, the ritual bringing a semblance of normalcy to an otherwise surreal day. As the kettle boiled, I checked my watch, counting down the minutes until our meeting.
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