The Day the River Stopped Singing

I pushed the door open and walked in. Holly looked surprised to see me, her brows knitting in a frown.

"What are you doing here? Are you tracking me?" she asked in an accusatory tone.

I held up my phone, showing her the message she had sent.

Charles draped an arm around her shoulders, his grin looked innocent. "Ms. Jones, my stomach's acting up. I just wanted a laugh, so I had Jim bring some yogurt. You're not mad, are you?"

Holly's tense expression melted.

Oddly enough, I felt nothing. No inner turmoil, no fit of rage like before, just a calm nod to show I got the message.

Holly, who rarely felt the need to justify herself, said, "Jim, Charles was just…"

I handed her the yogurt, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Holly had had a few drinks, so driving was out of the question.

She made sure Charles was okay, then came back with me.

The taxi waited across the street.

As I stepped off the curb, Holly's hand shot out and yanked me back, just as a car zoomed by, missing me by inches.

If not for her quick thinking, I would have been hurt.

"Watch for cars when you're walking, will you?" Holly chided, her voice laced with urgency, her grip on my hand firm.

For a moment, I was lost in memories of how she used to hold my hand every time we crossed the street. It felt like a lifetime ago, and strangely unfamiliar then.

However, once we reached the other side, I slipped my hand away, unnoticed.

In the morning, I was packing up for work when Holly said, "I'll drive you."

After the late night we had, thanks to her, I was cutting it close for work. There was no time for the subway. I accepted her offer without a fuss.

I opened the car door to a sea of trendy accessories that screamed youth. The seat cushion, plush and supportive, was there for Charles' bad back. Even the dashboard boasted a model sports car; it was Charles' favorite.

A sticker with playful lettering of the words 'Ms. Jones's Little Assistant Reserved Seat' on the dashboard, boldly claiming its territory.

It was almost comical that Holly, known for her no-nonsense, take-charge attitude, would tolerate such a whimsical item in her car.

Discomfort briefly shadowed Holly's face as she explained, "Don't sweat it too much. There's nothing going on between us."

'They went to take couple photos and yet she said there was nothing going on between them?' I mused silently.

I kept my thoughts to myself, but the day after we started divorce proceedings, Holly flaunted their lovey-dovey photos on social media. There was even a caption. [Capturing every sexy moment of you.]

Whether it was a jab at me for wanting the divorce or something else, her affections had clearly shifted to places unseen by me.

Shaking off the memory, I tactfully chose the back seat, saying, "I'll sit back here."

"Skipped breakfast?"

To break the awkward silence, Holly reached over and offered me a bottle of milk.

Glancing up, I noticed a snack box brimming with cookies, candied fruits, and jellies, a stark contrast to Holly's usual ban on eating in her car due to her obsession with cleanliness.

I recalled a time when I was pale and weak from low blood sugar in her car, desperate for a sip of milk, which she had flatly denied.

However, Charles seemed to have her full permission to indulge.

The difference between being loved and unloved was painfully clear.

I politely declined the milk, turning my gaze to the blur of cars outside.

Soon enough, we reached the office, and I hurried to my desk.

In theory, with the divorce looming, I should be drafting my resignation. However, with two projects still on my plate, I felt obliged to see them through before walking away.

Morning and noon flew by in a blur; I was swamped, and a lousy night's sleep left me feeling less than sharp.

I was about to brew myself a much-needed coffee when the delivery guy showed up with a surprise: a huge box filled with lattes and cupcakes.

The office erupted with cheers.

"They say the head honcho is springing for afternoon tea. Talk about generosity!"

"You're out of the loop. It's only for Charles: he's been hitting the gym hard, trying to slim down. The head honcho felt for him, so she got the coffee as a treat. We all just got lucky!"