“I met her on Friday morning, Jason. It can’t possibly be any more.”

“Let it be noted on the record that I strongly disagree.” He leans over my desk. “Sometimes, in love, all it takes is one second. A flick of someone’s lashes. A corner of the mouth curling up. Looking into a stranger’s eyes at the exact right time.”

“Yes, sure.” I’m so very desperate to believe him. “If that stranger doesn’t have a life and a family on the other side of the world.”

“That’s another matter. I’m just trying to make you see that you shouldn’t feel silly because of your emotions, because of how she makes you feel.”

Sean, my most junior researcher, knocks on the door, which is still open. This really isn’t a conversation Jason and I should have at work, and especially not with the door open.

“Oh, sorry, boss,” he says. “Hi, Jason. Something urgent just came in, but I can come back in a few.”

“I was just leaving.” Jason stands. He turns to me and mouths, “I’m right.” At least that’s what I think he’s trying to say. I both wish and don’t wish that he is.

After work, I drive straight to Darlinghurst. Traffic is dense and moves much too slowly for my taste. Don’t these people know I have no time to waste? That a woman who is about to leave is waiting for me. I should have asked her to meet me at my house. The drive to work is much shorter. Maybe I should rethink my decision to move to Darlinghurst. I like the neighborhood, but I’m not interested in adding half an hour to my commute each way. Or maybe this standstill traffic is just a one-off. Just fate conspiring against me. Staying in Balmain and being reminded of Rebecca all the time isn’t ideal either.

Every inch my car moves takes me closer to Camille. That thought keeps running through my head. It takes me to her— for now. As I look at my reflection in the rearview mirror, I wonder if it would have been better for me if I hadn’t met her at all. Because attached to all the gloriousness of encountering someone like Camille—someone who ticks most, if not all, of my boxes—is also the wretchedness of having to let her go.

My phone starts ringing, pulling me right out of my doom and gloom. Camille’s picture pops up on the screen. I activate the Bluetooth speaker and even before I say “Hello” my lips split into a wide smile.

“Where are you?” she asks. “I’m impatient.”

“Thank goodness it’s just that. I thought there was another emergency at the apartment.”