Chapter 35: The Lost Tuesday (2)
El was halfway through his coffee when Mira appeared at the entrance to his cubicle row.
Not with a task. Not with a deadline. Just... standing there.
Her blazer was charcoal gray today. Her hair was pulled back in that perfect bun, but a single strand had escaped again — resting against her cheek like she'd been in a hurry that morning.
"El. A minute?"
He looked up. His mind was still tangled in the stranger's words.
"How do I face this Tuesday?"
What does that mean?
Nothing extraordinary has happened yet.
Nothing at all.
"Sure," he said. "I'll just finish my coffee."
Mira nodded. "Okay. I'll wait in my cubicle."
She walked away.
El stared after her.
She's been acting strange today.
Softer.
Closer.
Why?
He shook his head and went back to his coffee.
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 1:50 PM
Demi appeared. Not at the cubicle wall — right next to El's desk. Leaning against it. Grinning.
El nearly choked on his coffee.
"Don't you know how to knock?"
Demi gestured at the open space.
"It's not a door. Why should I knock?"
El set his cup down. Wiped his mouth.
"What do you want?"
Demi leaned closer. Lowered his voice.
"Hey, El. I think Mira has a crush on you."
El blinked.
"I'm not saying she has a crush on you," Demi continued, "but I'm also not not saying she has a crush on you."
El's mind was already spiraling — the stranger's words, the lost Tuesday, the white flower, the whisper. Now this.
"You almost made me spit my coffee."
"That would've been funny. You should've done it."
El ignored him. Picked up his cup. Took a slow sip.
"So," Demi pressed. "What do you think? About Mira?"
El wanted to say something about the shock Demi had just given him — but he didn't. He just shook his head.
"Mira is our boss. She probably just wants to talk about the reports."
Demi snorted. "She definitely has a crush on you."
El didn't respond.
Demi's grin softened. His voice dropped — quieter now. Almost serious.
"Why don't you court her? Instead of your dream girl."
El's chest tightened.
"So you really think I'm being crazy?"
Demi held his gaze.
"I'm saying Mira is here. Real. Tangible. Legit." He paused.
"Your dream girl? Uncertainty. And she's making you crazy."
El looked away.
He's right.
But I don't want to admit it.
I don't want to let go of Kaye.
She's real.
I know she's real.
It's me who keeps forgetting.
She's there — in Willow's End. In my childhood home.
There's proof.
But I don't have anything to show Demi.
Nothing he would believe.
Nothing I can hold.
Nothing but a feeling and a flower that might not exist.
"Hey."
Demi tapped his shoulder.
El blinked. Came back.
"You're staring again. Like you've seen a ghost."
El set his coffee down. Stood.
"I'm fine. I'll go to Mira's cubicle."
Demi studied him. Didn't believe him. But didn't push.
"You're not fine. That's your whole brand." He stepped back. Grinned — weak, but there.
"Anyway. Enjoy your moment with her. I mean... good luck."
El didn't pay attention. He just walked.
Toward Mira's cubicle.
---
El stood at the entrance of Mira's cubicle. His coffee was finished. His mind was still elsewhere — tangled in the stranger's words, the white flower, the lost Tuesday.
But Mira was waiting.
So he stepped inside.
"You have work for me to do, Ma'am?"
Mira looked up from her tablet. Her expression shifted — professional to something softer. Just for a second.
"Mira," she said quietly. "Just call me Mira."
El's jaw tightened.
You're my head manager. It's natural to call you Ma'am.
He wanted to say it aloud. But he kept it to himself.
"Okay, Mira." The name felt strange on his tongue. Too familiar. Too personal.
"What do you want from me?"
Mira smiled. Her cheeks flushed — just slightly. Barely noticeable.
But El noticed.
"To tell you the truth," she said, "I just want to talk to you about certain things."
"What is it?"
She set her tablet down. Folded her hands on the desk. Her eyes — those sharp, missing-nothing eyes — held his.
"It's about Demi. He mentioned you have a... dream girl. Yesterday. And he mentioned the time loop."
El's chest tightened.
Demi told her.
Demi told Mira.
About Kaye.
About the loops.
About everything.
He'd always suspected Mira knew something. The way she looked at him. The way she brought him coffee. The way she said "I notice a lot of things about you, El."
But he thought she'd figured it out herself.
He didn't expect Demi's slippery tongue.
"Demi told you that?" His voice came out flat.
Mira nodded. Then — quieter, almost to herself — she whispered:
"He tells me everything about you. About what's happening. Because I told him to."
El only heard the first word.
Yes.
The rest was swallowed by the rushing in his ears.
Demi has been reporting to Mira.
About me.
About Kaye.
About the loops.
How long?
Why?
Mira leaned forward. Her voice softened — concern wrapped in professionalism.
"So what's really going on, El?"
El looked at her.
She knows.
She's known.
And she's still here.
Still asking.
Still waiting.
"It's nothing."
He pushed the thought aside — the knowledge that Demi had been spying on him.
"I'm fine."
Mira's eyes didn't leave his.
"I know you'll say that." Her voice was gentle. Almost a whisper.
"But I hope you know — I believe in whatever words you say. So just tell me. And I'll believe it."
El's throat tightened.
She believes me.
Even Demi didn't say that.
Even Demi — my best friend — only said "I believe you believe it."
But Mira...
Mira said she believes me.
No conditions.
No "I believe you believe it."
Just... belief.
He felt something crack in his chest. Something he'd been holding together for weeks. Months. Maybe longer.
Can I tell her?
Can I tell her the truth?
About Kaye?
About the loops?
About the lost Tuesday?
About the white flower?
About the whisper?
About everything?
"Thank you, Mira." His voice came out rougher than he intended.
"For believing in me. But it's not the right time to tell you. I'll keep it to myself. And if I can't handle it anymore..." He paused. Swallowed.
"I'll lean on Demi. And you."
Mira held his gaze. Didn't push. Didn't press.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll wait."
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 2:00 PM
A shadow stood where El should have been.
Not El.
Something else.
It watched through the gap in the cubicle wall — watched Mira lean forward, watched El's shoulders relax, watched them exist in a space that didn't include it.
"So that's why you keep delaying, huh?"
The voice was dry. Hollow. Like leaves across pavement.
The shadow's hollow eyes burned.
"I'm fading. And here you are — flirting with some bitch."
The shadow didn't move. Didn't breathe. It just watched.
Then it faded.
Like smoke.
Like it was never there.
On El's desk — where his pens had been perfectly aligned — one of them shattered.
Not cracked. Not broken.
Shattered.
Into pieces so small they looked like sand.
But El wasn't there to see it.
He was still in Mira's cubicle.
Still not knowing.
Still not remembering.
Still not facing Tuesday.
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 2:05 PM
El walked back to his desk.
His mind was still tangled — Mira's words, her belief, her patience. Demi's betrayal. The stranger's question.
"How do I face this Tuesday?"
He sat down.
Reached for his pen.
His fingers touched something wrong.
He looked down.
The pen was gone.
Not missing — gone.
In its place was a small pile of dust. Fine as sand. Gray as ash.
El stared at it.
What—
He looked around. No one nearby. No one watching. No explanation.
He touched the dust. It crumbled between his fingers.
This was a pen.
This was a solid object.
Now it's sand.
How?
Why?
What—
"Hey."
He looked up.
Demi was at the cubicle wall. Grinning.
"You're doing the staring thing again."
El looked at the dust. Then at Demi. Then back at the dust.
"I need to tell you something," El said.
Demi's grin faded. "That's never good."
"Mira knows."
Demi blinked. "Knows what?"
"About the loops. About Kaye. About everything."
Demi's face went pale. "How?"
"You told her."
Demi opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"I... she asked. She said she was worried. I didn't think—"
"You didn't think."
"I was trying to help."
"I know." El looked at the dust. "I know."
Demi was quiet for a long moment. Then.
"Are you mad?"
El thought about it.
Mira believed him.
Even Demi didn't believe him.
Mira did.
Maybe Demi's betrayal wasn't a betrayal.
Maybe it was the only reason someone finally believed.
"No," El said. "I'm not mad."
Demi exhaled. "Okay. Good. Because I was starting to panic."
El almost smiled. Almost.
"I need to ask you something," El said.
"Anything."
"When I woke up at my desk on Monday — what did I say?"
Demi frowned. "You already asked me that."
"I know."
"You already know the answer."
"I know."
"Then why are you asking again?"
El looked at the dust.
Because I don't remember asking.
Because I don't remember anything.
Because I'm losing pieces of myself.
And I don't know how to stop it.
"Never mind," El said.