It was the first genuinely kind thing anyone had said to me all day that did not feel attached to a polite, professional smile.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the seat across from him. “I’m Charlotte.”
“Charles,” he said, then returned to his sandwich.
That was all. No dramatic greeting. No personal history. Just a name, a small nod, and an empty chair across the table that somehow felt warmer than every other seat in that room.
I could say I sat with Charles that first day because there was nowhere else for me to sit.
That was true.
But by the second day, I sat with him because I wanted to.
—
It became our habit without either of us ever announcing it.
Noon. The same window table. The same two chairs.
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