He barely ate dinner before returning to his paperwork.
“If I mess up this presentation, Martin is never going to let me forget it,” he said.
“You won’t mess it up.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“I married a smart man, didn’t I?”
He smiled.
I wish I had known then how much he was hiding behind that smile.
The next morning, I woke about half an hour after Tucker left.
I went downstairs, fed our cat Olive, and started preparing coffee.
That’s when I noticed Olive sitting on the dining table with one paw resting on something blue.
I stopped.
The presentation folder.
The one Tucker had spent an entire week preparing.
It was still on our table.
“Oh, Tucker,” I sighed.
I opened it to make sure it was the correct one.
Inside were his printed presentation slides, handwritten reminders, financial estimates, and the detailed client information he’d been reviewing every night.
