“Mine is definitely going in the trash.”
“They could have just given us a gift card.”
The laughter spread from one desk to the next, the way laughter in an office always does — quickly and without much thought. People held the jars up like they were examining something from a foreign century.
Lucía’s coworker Carlos, who had long treated her more like competition than a colleague, dangled his jar in the air and grinned in her direction.
“Lucía, want to have a contest? See who can toss it the farthest?”
She smiled back without saying a word.
Across the room, she caught a glimpse of Alejandro. His shoulders had dropped just slightly. The kind of movement a person makes when they are trying not to show that something hurt them.
He had heard every word.
But he said nothing.
The Break Room at the End of the Day
By mid-afternoon, Lucía walked past the break room and stopped in the doorway.
Leave a Comment