She broke up with her partner of ten years, weeks before their wedding, for a boy with shaggy hair and puppy dog eyes. She broke up with her partner of ten years for a boy who told her he loved her and it made her feel like she was on fire.

            But she was okay. She swore she was okay.

            She cries herself to sleep most nights because she lost the one person who ever mattered. She cries into her pillow and clutches it tightly, pretending that the weight of blankets over her body is his arms, holding her close

But she is okay. She swears she is okay.

Her heart breaks when she watches him walk out of the office, his hand on the small of that other woman’s back, smiling at another woman’s jokes. He hasn’t had a jellybean since he has been back, but she refuses to take them off her desk.

Because she is okay. She swears she is okay.

He finds her crying in the staircase after work one day, huddled in the corner. She sees him and hastily wipes away the tears. But it is too late, he has already seen her and he’s down at her level, reaching for her hand. She tries to scoot closer to the wall, still wiping her eyes.

“I’m okay. I swear I’m okay.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at her steadily, his eyes burning into hers. He sits with her in silence until she stops crying and pulls herself up.

He has to duck because he is too tall for standing under staircases. When he ducks his face is even closer to hers. She can feel his breath on her neck. Her eyes drift shut and he tastes like jelly beans. He must have been taking them when she wasn’t looking. He always said he was addicted.

His hands find her hips and her back hits the wall and she is pretty sure she doesn’t know how to breathe but she can’t pull away because he is just everything-

He breaks away and looks at her and she can see the wall building up in his eyes. She should know, she is quite the expert at it. He releases her waist and backtracks through the door.

She touches her lips that still tingle and takes a breath.

She is okay. She swears she is okay.

She doesn’t go in to work the next day. She sits at home with her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail and ice cream in her lap. She watches comedy reruns on TBS and cheesy Lifetime movies. She forces herself to laugh.

Because she is okay. She swears she is okay.

When she comes back to the office, she avoids his eye contact. It isn’t too difficult considering he is doing just the same. She realizes when Karen comes in twenty minutes late, that they didn’t come in together. She notices Karen’s puffy eyes and the air of discontent that surrounds her and Jim.

She looks like she is trying to be okay. Because she swears she is okay.

She leaves right at five o clock, shutting off the phones and grabbing her pink jacket. She leans her back against the elevator wall and breathes in deep. The doors almost close but he puts in his briefcase and slides in to the narrow opening. She shifts over, giving him ample room.

They watch the numbers tick down in silence. She looks at the floor and counts the squares in the pattern on the carpet.

He reaches forward and pulls the emergency stop button. The elevator jolts and she clings onto the bar so that she doesn’t stumble.

“What the-“

He cuts her off with his lips on hers. She drops her purse and puts her hands in his hair, tugging him closer. Her back hits the wall for the second time in a week, with her hands wrapped around his neck. His hand lands next to her abdomen on the wall, bracing himself from falling into her. His other hand is gripping her hip forcefully, and she is pretty sure there will be bruises but she doesn’t care.

Because she is okay. She swears she is okay.

She can feel him smile against her lips and she follows suit, her lips spreading into her first real grin in weeks.