Pulling open the pristine glass door to the main office, Hetty realized her hands were trembling. She had arrived early in order to avoid having to interact with too many people first thing in the morning. Making a beeline through the halls, she ducked into her office and slammed the door shut.

Hetty busied herself catching up on emails for the first hour. Eventually, there was a light knock on her door. It was Mariana.

"Hey!" Mariana pulled her into a gentle hug. "You're back. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," replied Hetty meekly. "I had a bad stomach bug. I'm better now." Hetty prayed with every fiber of her being that Mariana would drop the conversation. Despite having mentally prepared herself for this moment, she couldn't possibly bear another second.

"Did you hear about the retreat?" asked Mariana.

"What?"

"We're going on a retreat on Friday and Saturday - not this weekend but the next. The counseling teams from every school. We have all-day workshops and everything. It's the first year the district organized it!"

"Next Friday?" Hetty felt like a floating balloon animal, each body part barely attached. "Just counseling?"

"No, all the student support staff. You know - counseling, mental health, psych, etc."

Hetty's internal organs turned circles, sending shock waves through her body.

"Oh. Okay."

"Yeah, check the email from Jodie Castillo at district. She sent all the details last Friday, when you were out sick."

"Okay, thanks." Mariana left, and Hetty stared blankly at her emails, her hands tingling.

At that moment, Ryan appeared at her doorway, his face and body radiating intensity.

"Hetty," he exhaled, with relief and many other indistinguishable emotions. Upon seeing him, her body stood up involuntarily at the same time that Ryan rushed to meet her. Without reserve, he wrapped his arms around her, and Hetty sank into his hug. They remained in a tight embrace for several seconds, Hetty unable to resist the urge to rest her head against his warm, rapidly beating chest.

As they separated, Ryan gently kissed her forehead.

"I was worried sick about you," he whispered, his face inches from hers.

"I'm so sorry I didn't respond. I was super sick with... the stomach flu. I'm all better now." She had mentally rehearsed this sentence so many times, yet the words still caught in her throat.

"Fuck, I thought... I don't know," he breathed out, running his hands erratically through his hair. "I had a horrible feeling that something was wrong. You're okay?" He looked down at her, his vulnerable expression violating her very thin layer of armor.

"I'm okay," Hetty assured him, her voice raspy. Still standing close enough to feel the heat of Ryan's aura emanating love and protection, she imagined herself crumbling back into his arms. She knew he would catch her. Instead, she dug her toes into the soles of her shoes in an attempt to stay standing upright.

"I l-..." Hetty distinctly caught Ryan clamping his mouth shut mid-sentence, and something inside her was certain he had been about to say "I love you."

Instead he said, inexplicably, "I'm going to find another job. I can't keep working with you."

Her eyes were immediately wet; she'd had no chance to even attempt to avert her body's reaction to his statement.

"No," she whispered, pleadingly. "You can't." She smeared the tears across her cheeks sloppily, childlike, with the palm of one hand, then the other.

"I have to," he whispered, his deep brown eyes glistening with grief.

* * *

Later that week, Hetty filled in Cooper about the upcoming counselors' retreat as they were both putting on their pajamas before bed.

"I'm going out of town those days too, so it actually works out. Are you sure you feel well enough?" he asked her.

"I'm fine."

Everything was dull. Since the miscarriage, the energy between her fiancé and her was grey and deflated. Cooper had not done anything wrong, but she didn't feel his presence fully by her side. Maybe he was simply grieving, too, in his own way.

"Should we talk about... what happened?" asked Hetty, her mouth numb and disconnected from her brain, unsure if she was ready for his response.

Cooper frowned deeply and sighed, sitting down on the bed stiffly.

"I guess? What do you want to talk about?"

His words stung her more deeply than she thought possible. This man sitting on the bed in front of her looked like a stranger.

"It was a huge loss, and we have barely talked about it. Processed it together." Hetty's hands trembled as she spoke, and her legs went numb.

"I really don't know what to say," Cooper said flatly. "Neither of us were really... expecting the baby to begin with." He rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "Shit, it's just... weird, Hetty."

There was a long silence. Then Cooper tugged the sheets over himself and rolled over, turning his back to her.

It was like a kick to the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. A melancholic wave rippled through Hetty's chest. Regardless of Ryan, she knew in that moment it was over with Cooper.

She had been so certain of her decision to accept his proposal. How could something so solid crumble so instantaneously?

* * *

Something was different in Hetty. She appeared to Ryan fragile, raw and peaceful. Not a happy peace, but rather the inevitable peacefulness that sometimes accompanies devastation. When you've lost everything, so there's nothing to fight for; a cocoon of darkness wraps you up, almost comforting.

He watched Hetty working with Kiara each day, pouring her every ounce of care and dedication into this aching, traumatized child.

Ryan didn't know how to speak with Hetty. They had gone through so many cycles together in the past two months - laughing, longing for each other, pretending, holding back, giving in. His heart was stretched out.

"How's Kiara doing?" he asked one afternoon when they found themselves together in the staff room towards the end of the school day.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," replied Hetty with genuine simplicity.

"I understand. Thing's are pretty tough."

"Thing's are pretty tough," she echoed back softly. She blinked at him, her forehead crinkly. Why was she so sad?

"You know you are helping her, right?" Ryan said gently. "Just by being there for her every day." Hetty's eyes turned red around the edges and filled with with water, but the tears stayed in place.

"Are you getting a new job right away?" she asked in a low, raspy voice. Ryan's head was swimming. Was her grief over him leaving?

"Not right away," was all he said. His chest was tight.

"Okay," she breathed out, her eyebrows still furrowed. She bit her bottom lip and just stared into his face, looking regretful.

As the next few days ticked by, their interactions were characterized by gentle conversations and sweet smiles. Ryan made no move whatsoever to begin searching for a new job, even though he absolutely understood this was his only pathway forward. Instead, he kept bringing Hetty food, which she happily ate each time.

He bumped into Lamar in the hallway on the way to Hetty's office one afternoon, carrying two Styrofoam containers stacked on top of one another.

"Dude," Lamar shook his head at Ryan, looking concerned. "Are you bringing her lunch again? You have got to stop." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "People are talking, man."

"What?" asked Ryan, confused.

Hetty popped her head out of her office at that moment, smiling at Ryan. Lamar quickly shut his mouth, but he gave Ryan a cutting look before departing.

What did it matter if people were talking? He would start job hunting that evening. He smiled back at Hetty while handing her one of the boxes of teriyaki take-out, and they glided to the staff lounge together to have lunch.

Before leaving that day, Hetty stopped by Ryan's office and knocked tentatively on the open door before entering.

"Hi," breathed Ryan, tilting his head as he took in the sight of her. She still took his breath away, every single freaking time.

"Are you going on the retreat?" she asked, instead of greeting him back. He dropped his eyes, his breath catching in his chest in a thick, tangled vine of grief. In fact, he had planned not to attend. It would be too difficult.

Looking up to answer, he saw her expression soft and hopeful, and his insides melted into oblivion.

"Yes, are you?" His voice quivered slightly, and he cast his eyes downwards again, feeling overwhelmed at his own unexpected answer.

"Yeah." Something in this one-word utterance caused him to look up again and meet her eyes, which held a mischievous glint. The melancholic vibe of the past week snapped, and Ryan's lips parted slightly as his stomach turned flips. Hetty's eyes rained green glitter into his.