Page 212 of Time Stops With You

The lawyers remain quiet.

“Cullen,” a voice whispers.

I look up and find Nardi standing in the doorway. She’s dressed in yesterday’s clothes and has her purse slung over her shoulder. Quietly, she gestures to the door.

The sight of her untangles the knot in my chest and I nod goodbye.

She smiles brightly and waves before turning to leave.

My mind clearer than before, I plant my fingers together on the table. “Would it be faster to get an international patent?”

“A patent is a good idea,” the lawyer murmurs, “but it will take even longer than going to court. Especially when you consider the process of international patent examination.”

I’m well aware of how arduous getting a patent is. I’ve done it several times and, after each time, I swore it would be my last.

“I need a way to solve this. Quickly,” I rasp. “I don’t want Cullen Tech’s progress slowed down by a lawsuit.”

“There is another option.”

“What other option?” I demand.

“An offer arrived early this morning.”

I wait, my back muscles tense.

A collaboration. Between the company who sued you and Cullen Tech.”

My eyes widen. “Those bastards want tobuymy program?”

“It’s an option.”

“It’s joining hands with the enemy,” I spit.

“You asked for a fast resolution. This is what you’ve got. You either go to court and hand over the documents there or you file a patent and release the documents there instead. It’s only a matter of time before the mainframe is exposed in totality. When that happens, you won’t get any reward for it. At least this way, you’ll get paid. Think about it.”

“Yeah.” I end the video call and reach for my water.

The cup is empty.

Pushing out of my chair with a groan, I shuffle to the kitchen. To my surprise, I see a plate of toast, a bowl of sliced papayas and a jam bottle nestled together on the counter. There’s also a note on a yellow sticky pad.

I lift the note and read Nardi’s rushed handwriting.

Make sure you eat something. I’ll ask if you did when I come home later.

There’s a smiley face beneath it and it’s simply signed ‘Nardi’.

I stare at the note for a long time, my eyes lingering on the phrase ‘come home’. It feels so right to read that and to know that Nardi’s coming home to me tonight.

No, I shouldn’t get used to this. I’m kicking her out as soon as possible.

Taking a seat around the counter, I bite into the toast and lick the jam from my fingers.

I don’t even like toast, but this is delicious.

After polishing off the food, I start feeling extremely hot and move toward the thermostat to bring the temperature down. On my way, I notice that the velvet curtains have been tampered with.

Buckets and buckets of sunshine blast through the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if the sun finally has access to me and is trying to make up for lost time. I lift my hand to shade my eyes from the glare. Nardi must have pulled back my black-out curtains.

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