I stuck to the routine.
Wake up. Shower. Dress sharp. Spend my hours buried in reports and numbers until my eyes blurred. Give Gray & Milton the best of me, every single day. Avoid Tasha as much as I could without letting it bleed into the work—professional at the desk, distant everywhere else.
Outside of that, I tried not to become a ghost. Derrick and Priya made it easier; they dragged me into lunch breaks and after-work jokes, making sure I didn't bury myself too deep in spreadsheets. Trent was the same, showing up at my door with takeout whenever Marina got on his nerves, then sitting on my couch like it was his second home. Other days, I'd head over to his place and listen to him complain about how "unreasonable" Marina was while I quietly reminded him he was lucky she put up with him at all.
