Page 110 of The Restoration Program
Blessedly, it was Monday. Work from home day. She didn’t need to worry about standing by him like an idling child while he made small talk with his co-workers. Didn’t need to vanish out of sight when he had a client. Didn’t need to occupy herself for hours in his office when he vanished for another late-night meeting. Didn’t even need to get out of her pajamas.
A familiar silence settled between them as they worked.
He threw out the yarn weeks ago. They hadn’t talked about that night. As a single unit on the surface, they seemed to have forgotten about it. Butshehadn’t. And she knew he hadn’t, either.
But even still, things were… fine. Day-to-day niceties simply took more effort than ever.
Without traumatic bondage to mark time, days began to slip effortlessly from one to the next. It was strange to glance out the window and realize the elm trees had already caught ablaze with autumnal golds. A part of her was still living in those first chaotic spring days, waking up after the accident—but Halloween was just weeks away now.
Nicole sipped her coffee, groping for the pile of glazed cereal O’s with her other hand. They were her breakfast of choice lately—crunchy, palm-sized doughnuts.
“Okay, maybe I’m hoping this gig lasts a few more months,” she said thickly. “I’m starting to get into a real rhythm with this one.”
“Don’t hold your breath. I’d be surprised if they don’t start assigning those data entry jobs to bots soon,” Ryan replied, clicking away. “The Keva software’s becoming an industry standard.”
Nicole threw a piece of cereal across the table at him. “Whose side are you on? It’s gonna take a lot more of these jobs to keep me as your sugar mama, you know.”
He grinned broadly. “You spoil me already.”
Before she could protest, he swept up half her cereal and popped it into his mouth. She feigned offense, which missed Ryan’s attention as he picked up his cell phone.
“Jerk,” she said. “I think you just volunteered to make lunch.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” The words flew off his tongue so easily, Nicole couldn’t tell if the note of resentment was a joke or not. Ryan looked up from his phone, set it aside, and cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he breezed on, “the real goal is to get back into marketing, right? That’s where you really shine.”
“Totally. I think the Program is pushing for virtual medical consultants and shit like that. But more companies are signing deals for NüPrint employees every day. Carlos said there’s even international opportunities starting to pop up on his dashboard.”
“I’m not sure I’d call Carlos a reliable source. It’s not like the guy is really actively invested in getting his career back on track.”
“He told you what happened when he tried to train virtually. It was brutal.”
“I know, I know. And it’s terrible, I absolutely sympathize with him. But… it’s been, what, two months since then? Like you said, the Program is partnering with hundreds of companies, and he’s just lounging on Rebecca’s lap, refusing to even try any of these options.”
Outrage flickered, but she gathered herself. It was too early to bicker.
“Ease up,” Nicole said. “My point is, it’d be great to have dual income again. Then we could just relax, right?Greatis always better thanokay.” She smiled up at him over the rim of her mug. He had plucked up his phone again, and when he didn’t answer her, anxiety crept in. “Ryan… We’re at least doing okay money-wise, right?”
She must’ve looked downright pitiful—when he caught sight of her, his entire posture changed. He reached across the table to rest his hand on her folded legs, smiling gently.
“Of course. Of course we’re okay, you don’t have to worry about that, babe. We’ve got a great accountant.” He winked, and she groaned.
“That joke was bad the first fifty times you told it.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Clearly.”
Their back-and-forth came to a halt when Ryan’s phone chimed yet again. He peeked at the screen, then grinned at the message and pulled his hand away from Nicole. His fingers flew to respond.
“Who’s that?” she asked. She hadn’t seen him light up like that in ages.
“Just someone from the office.”
“Oh. Anthony?”
“No.” His eyes stayed glued to the screen.
She pursed her lips, fairly certain who it was, then. Nonetheless, she played it casual, sipping at her coffee like she had all the time in the world. She offhandedly piped up again, “Cora?”
