The responsibility frightened me.
But this time, fear felt different.
At twenty-four, I had been afraid because I didn’t believe I belonged.
Now I was afraid because I understood how much trust had been placed in me.
Richard didn’t disappear completely.
Every Friday, he still comes into the office.
He arrives late in the morning, usually without a tie now.
He walks past reception, says hello to everyone, and eventually finds his way to my office.
Then he sits across from me and drinks his coffee.
Black.
No sugar.
Some habits never change.
Sometimes we discuss business.
Sometimes he gives advice.
Sometimes he tells me I’m overthinking something and reminds me that leadership doesn’t mean having every answer.
And occasionally, without thinking, I still say:
“Mr. Bennett, boss, I wanted to ask—”
His finger immediately goes up.
“Emily.”
I stop.
He raises an eyebrow.
“Remember the condition.”
And every time, I smile.
