Read What We Become :: Chapter 15

He woke up later than usual, not by much, but enough for the alarm to ring twice before he finally sat up. The room felt cool, the kind of morning chill that came when the weather hadn’t made up its mind. He rubbed his eyes, checked his phone, and saw no new messages.

Not surprising. Still something he noticed.

He made coffee, drank half of it while leaning against the counter, then forced himself to put together a real breakfast—just toast and fruit, nothing fancy. By the time he grabbed his bag and stepped into the hallway, he felt more awake.

Going down the stairs, he didn’t expect to see her. They hadn’t planned anything for the morning. But when he reached the second floor landing, he heard soft footsteps above. A moment later, she appeared, tying her hair into a messy ponytail while holding a travel mug in the other hand.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re up.”

“I usually am,” he said.

She made a face. “I overslept. Alarm betrayed me.”

“Or you ignored it.”

“Maybe both.” She covered a yawn with her wrist. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She adjusted her bag. “I’m grabbing something downstairs. I don’t trust myself to chew yet.”

They walked together toward the lobby. The building felt unusually quiet, even for a weekday morning. Outside, the air carried a hint of warmth, like spring was thinking about showing up but wasn’t confident yet.

She pushed the door open, blinking at the brightness. “What time’s your first call?”

“Ten.”

“Mine’s at nine-thirty.” She sipped her drink and made a small unhappy sound. “Too hot.”

“Then let it cool.”

“I’m impatient.”

He smirked. “I couldn’t tell.”

She nudged him with her elbow.

At the corner, she stopped. “I’m grabbing a bagel. Then I’m running to the train.”

“You’ll make it.”

“Optimistic,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

She gave a small wave before crossing the street. He watched her weaving through a group of students before turning left toward the deli. Then he kept walking.

At the office, the morning passed without anything notable. A few messages from coworkers, a minor issue that resolved itself, a calendar reminder that he dismissed twice. He worked in silence, only barely aware of the conversations happening around him.

Around eleven-thirty, his phone buzzed.

*Bagel was acceptable. Not great. Acceptable.*

He replied:

*That’s all you need on a Thursday.*

She answered:

*True. Low standards today.*

He typed back:

*How’s the nine-thirty call?*

*Fine. Boring. I survived.*

*Good.*

He paused, then added:

*Eat something for lunch too.*

She sent back a single dot. Then another.

Finally:

*…Okay dad.*

He rolled his eyes at his screen.

Lunch came and went. He ate quickly at his desk, not really hungry but knowing he’d regret skipping it. The afternoon stayed steady, a little dull, but manageable.

At two, she messaged again.

*Are you in another meeting?*

He typed:

*No. Why?*

*Wanted to ask if the thing for tomorrow is confirmed.*

He checked his notes.

*Yeah. Same time. Same link.*

*Okay. Just making sure.*

Another pause.

Then:

*Do you ever get the feeling the week is crawling and flying at the same time?*

He leaned back.

*Sometimes.*

*Today feels like that. Like everything is slow but also almost over.*

He didn’t have a better reply, so he wrote:

*Makes sense.*

*Shocking insight,* she replied.

He let out a quiet breath, halfway between a laugh and a sigh.

The rest of the afternoon passed without much thought. When the workday finally ended, he shut down his computer, packed up his bag, and headed out. The sun hung low, bright but soft. The kind of evening where nothing demanded attention.

The train ride home felt shorter than usual. When he stepped into the lobby, he heard someone talking to the building manager about a missing package. He slipped past and took the stairs.

On the second floor landing, he heard the familiar sound of grocery bags rustling. He slowed just enough to process it.

“Don’t judge me,” she said from above before he even saw her.

He looked up. “What now?”

She came down holding a single bag this time—small, nothing dramatic. “I only bought eggs. Normal eggs. Not suspicious ones.”

“That’s an improvement.”

“I’m trying,” she said. “Character development.”

They met on the landing, and she fell into step beside him automatically.

“Long day?” she asked.

“Normal long.”

“Same.”

They climbed the stairs in a quiet, easy rhythm.

At their floor, she paused in front of her door. “I might cook tonight,” she said. “Not sure. Depends on how these eggs behave.”

He nodded. “Hope they cooperate.”

“They better.” She shifted the bag slightly. “You eating?”

“Yeah.”

She gave a small nod like she approved of the answer.

She unlocked her door but turned back before going inside.

“Hey,” she said. “If you want to walk later, let me know. I might need fresh air again.”

“Sure. Just text me.”

“Will do.”

She disappeared into her apartment. He headed into his own, set his keys down, and exhaled. Something about the day felt simple but grounded, like everything was moving forward in small, steady steps.

He changed into a hoodie, made a quick dinner, and cleaned the counter. By the time he settled onto the couch, the sky outside had turned a deeper blue.

His phone buzzed.

*Eggs alive. Dinner edible.*

He typed:

*Congrats.*

Another message came right after.

*Walk?*

He answered:

*Yeah. Ready when you are.*

*Give me five.*

He stood, grabbed his keys, and stepped into the hallway. A minute later, her door opened. She wore a light jacket, hair loosely tied back.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

They walked down the stairs and out into the evening, falling into the kind of pace that didn’t need discussion.