That afternoon, Emma eagerly moved her belongings to Sarah’s former desk.
As I watched her placing her things one by one on Sarah’s desk, I felt an inexplicable irritation.
“Emma, take a different desk. Not this one.”
She paused, then broke into a delighted smile. “I get it! You want me in your office, right?
“Perfect! Now we can work together!”
I remained silent, letting her assume what she wanted.
What no one knew was that I didn’t care where Emma sat, as long as it wasn’t Sarah’s desk.
Every time I saw Sarah’s empty workstation, I couldn’t help but hope that one day she might return and sit there again.
Emma wasted no time ordering my assistant, Calvin,set up a desk in my office.
“James, what does this number mean?
“James, I don’t understand this report. Can you explain it?
“James, how do I calculate this economic indicator?”
Emma bombarded me with questions all afternoon, and my irritation grew.
If it were Sarah, she wouldn’t ask me meaningless questions like these.
If it were Sarah, she’d have already organized the reports and placed them neatly on my desk.
The more I tried to push thoughts of Sarah out of my mind, the more they consumed me.
“James,” Emma said during dinner, serving me food, “we’re officially dating now, right?”
“What about it?” I scrolled through my phone absently, thinking about visiting Sarah’s apartment after dinner.
I needed to search again – maybe I’d find some clue she left behind.
Besides, being in a place with traces of her always helped me relax.
“So when are we getting married?”
I froze mid–air. “What did you say?”
“Marriage, of course,” Emma said matter–of–factly. “We’ll need to invite lots of people, and I want a beach wedding…”
1 cut her off impatiently, “I’m not thinking about that right now. Drop it.”
Marriage? I suddenly felt confused. 1
Before, I had always thought of Emma as my only true love.
In my mind, she was the only one I’d ever marry.
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