(Joseph POV)
The boardroom was full.
Voices overlapped, presentations flickered across the screen, and decisions were made with the efficiency of a machine that had learned how to operate without hesitation. I sat at the head of the table, pen moving steadily across my notebook, nodding at the right moments, interrupting when necessary.
I was doing everything right.
That was the problem.
There had been a time—recent enough to ache—when the space beside me felt occupied even when it wasn't. Not physically. Something subtler than that. A presence that made the room feel calibrated. Balanced.
Now the chair was empty in a way that felt… final.
"Joseph?"
I looked up.
"Yes," I said, immediately. Too immediately.
The speaker continued, unfazed, while I forced my attention back to the conversation. Numbers. Projections. Strategy. All the things I had once believed were enough to build a life.
I caught myself glancing toward the door.
