The Palm Reader's Deadline

The office betting pool had reached fourteen thousand dollars. That was the number glowing on Marcus's phone screen at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday, his cursor hovering over the resignation template he'd been drafting for three months.

"You're still here?" Sarah's voice came from the doorway. She was wearing that orange scarf—the one he'd given her four years ago when they were both junior analysts, when the future felt like something that happened to other people.

"Just finishing up," Marcus said, minimizing the document. "You?"

She stepped into his office and closed the door. "The merger announcement comes tomorrow. Everyone's taking bets on how many heads roll." Her hand found its way to his desk, fingers splayed across the mahogany. "I put fifty on twenty-seven people."

Marcus looked at her palm—soft, with a tiny scar from a cooking accident he still remembered bandaging. "I put my money on zero."

Sarah laughed, but her eyes didn't crinkle the way they used to. "You always were an optimist."

"Not optimism." Marcus stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the silence. "I'm leaving, Sarah. Before the announcement."

The confession hung between them like smoke. Outside, the city's orange streetlamps flickered on, painting her face in warm hues.

"To go where?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. Somewhere with actual trees. Where people eat lunch outside.

" He took her hand, palm against palm. "Come with me."

She pulled away first. "You know I can't."

"The pool closes at midnight," he said. "You have twenty minutes to decide if you're betting on this company or on us."

Sarah looked at the door, then back at him. The orange glow from the window caught the moisture in her eyes. Marcus waited, heart hammering against his ribs like it had when he'd asked her to marry him, when he'd watched her walk down the aisle, when he'd signed the mortgage papers that now felt like chains.

"I," she started, then stopped. "I've already put in my notice."

Marcus froze. "What?"

"Two weeks ago." She smiled, really smiled this time. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you."

The clock on the wall clicked to midnight. Somewhere, fourteen thousand dollars changed hands. Neither of them cared.