The wait. The void of silence filling the room, widening in a chasm of borderline desperation that made every movement feel like a chore. Time ticked by in an unhurried pace, oblivious to its anxiety causing affect. No, it wasn’t any easier at all. However, there was a difference. She didn’t sit alone, staring dumbly at the pattern of their hardwood floors. Instead she leaned comfortably against Sansone, his hand combing through her now loose hair while they murmured about their days. He made her snort with his account of finding one of their younger clients naked and handcuffed to a garden gnome that no one could rightfully explain the presence of after a party that would go down in history as one of the wildest. In turn she told him about making a first round draft pick for Atlanta blubber after he’d made the wrong comment on her choice in casual clothing earlier today. He then decided that she needed to be donned with his office nickname because he thought himself to be leagues nicer than a woman who could send an almost three hundred pound defensive lineman into silent tears.
