He was sitting in the front row, tie loosened, looking at the empty stage.
You almost turned away.
Then he said, “I know you’re there.”
“Unfortunate.”
He smiled faintly.
You walked down the aisle and sat two seats away.
The stage lights were dim.
The room smelled like coffee, carpet, and leftover ambition.
Alejandro looked at you.
“Do you regret coming back?”
You thought about it.
“No.”
His shoulders relaxed.
“But I reserve the right to change my mind.”
“Of course.”
You looked at the stage.
“Do you regret asking me?”
“No.”
“That was fast.”
“I was sure.”
You turned toward him.
He continued, “I regret needing a disaster to see what was obvious.”
That was a better answer than you expected.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Then he said, “The board wants to nominate you next quarter.”
“I know.”
“Margaret told you?”
“No. I read the prep packet.”
