The Race Against Time

Later that day, I met Victor at the office to submit my financial projections for Verna Real Estate. I had spent days perfecting these numbers; estimating income, analyzing market trends, ensuring everything lined up for the next three years. The numbers looked good, but I wanted his opinion before finalizing them.

We talked business for hours, going over figures, adjusting projections.

That was the thing about numbers. They were logical. Predictable. Unlike life.

Specifically, unlike my life which I had no idea where it was headed.

After a while, I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for just a second. I was exhausted.

Victor walked back in after his bathroom break. His gaze landed on the steaming mug in my hands.

"Should you be drinking that?" His tone was casual. "I mean, I've never been pregnant, but I hear caffeine is bad."

I took a slow sip and exhaled.