The Space Between Us

CHAPTER 3

It was just past nine when the office lights flickered, signaling the slow march toward closing time. Lena sat at her desk, her eyes tired but determined, sifting through a stack of paperwork. The renovation project was moving forward, but there were details that still needed to be ironed out. The new floor plans. The budget estimates. The materials list. The pressure of it all seemed to settle on her shoulders, as it always did when things grew quiet.

She glanced at the clock again. Almost ten.

The office was mostly empty now, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft clatter of her keyboard. Her colleagues had trickled out hours ago, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the never-ending stream of emails. She couldn't help but notice how the silence had become thicker over the past week—how it wrapped around her, even when she was surrounded by people.

There was something about being here, in this space that she'd once been so proud of, that felt stifling now. She had designed it to be a haven of productivity, a place to create, to build. But all she felt now was the weight of unfinished business, both personal and professional.

The sudden sound of footsteps in the hallway caught her attention. She froze, listening. The steps grew louder, closer, and before she could react, the door to her office opened without a knock.

James Sinclair stood in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the dim light from the hallway. His jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up, and his hair was slightly disheveled from the long hours he'd no doubt spent reviewing plans.

"You're still here," Lena said, her voice betraying a note of surprise. She hadn't expected him to be working late.

James gave a small shrug, his lips curling into a half-smile that was more bemused than anything else. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get some work done while it was quiet." His gaze flickered around the office before meeting hers. "You, too, huh?"

Lena hesitated, glancing at the pile of work still in front of her. "Yeah. Just wrapping up a few things."

There was a pause—an awkward, lingering moment when neither of them knew quite what to say. But instead of turning and leaving, James stepped inside, his gaze falling to the papers spread across her desk.

"Need help with anything?" he asked, his voice softer now, less the confident architect and more... something else. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was just the way the quiet stretched between them, but there was an openness to his tone that caught Lena off guard.

She raised an eyebrow, feeling the familiar tightness in her chest. "You're offering to help me?"

James chuckled, a low sound that seemed to vibrate in the stillness of the room. "I'm sure I could take a look at the plans. A fresh set of eyes never hurt."

Lena thought about it for a moment. They were both here, after all, and it had been a while since she'd really discussed the project with him in detail. Maybe it would be good to have his input. And maybe it would be good to have someone else around so it didn't feel so... lonely.

"Alright," she said, leaning back in her chair and motioning to the chair across from her. "Have a seat. I could use a second opinion."

James did as she asked, settling into the chair with a fluid grace. His presence seemed to fill the space, even in the dim light of the office. They fell into a rhythm, poring over the plans, marking changes, sketching out possibilities. They worked side by side, the soft sound of pens and paper the only noise between them.

Time seemed to stretch. Hours slipped by unnoticed as they got lost in the details of the renovation, but it wasn't just the project that kept Lena's attention. There was something about the way James worked—his focus, his quiet intensity—that made her aware of him in a way that she couldn't ignore.