#recalibrating

Tim offers you coffee. You accept. The exchange feels like muscle memory — practiced, safe.

“Optics are… holding,” Tim says once you’re seated. He’s composed, voice steady, fingers resting flat against the edge of his desk. “The response has been consistent.”

You nod. “The assumption’s settled in.”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward. Just careful.

“We should be mindful going forward,” he continues. “The holiday season amplified visibility. That won’t last, but the impressions will.”

“I agree,” you say. “We may need to adjust proximity. In public.”

“Boundaries,” Tim says.

“Yes.”

You both write it down, metaphorically. No one asks which boundaries. No one lists them out loud. You understand each other too well for that.

Silence stretches again.

Outside, a siren wails distantly and fades. The building hums around you, business as usual.

“The end date remains unchanged,” Tim says at last. “January fifteenth.”

He says it like something that can still be controlled.

You breathe out. Not in relief. In acceptance.

“That still works,” you say.

He nods once. “Good.”

Another pause.

This one is heavier.

You look at the window instead of at him. “My family… expectations are stable. For now.”

Tim’s expression doesn’t change, but something in him stills. “I’m glad.”

You almost say thank you again.

You don’t.

Instead, you gather your things. He stands as you do, instinctive, polite.

“We’ll keep communication open,” he says. “If anything feels off.”

“I’ll tell you,” you promise. “Same goes for you.”

“Yes.”

At the door, you hesitate — not long enough to be obvious, but long enough to feel it. Tim notices anyway. He always does.

Nothing is said.

You leave.

Later, alone, you realize what you didn’t talk about.

Not the way his hand had rested at your waist.

Not the way your breath had caught.

Not the way the room had gone quiet for half a second too long.

You told yourselves it was situational.

Seasonal.

Contained.

Rules were reaffirmed.

Terms remained intact.

Everything was recalibrated.

Except the part neither of you wrote down.

And that, you suspect, is going to matter.

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