I noticed her across the office the moment I stepped out of my office for a coffee refill. She was hunched over her desk, fingers tapping nervously, eyes flicking between the screen and the hallway, like she was carrying the weight of everything on her own.

I approached slowly, letting my voice stay soft.

“Hey,”

I murmured, leaning against the edge of her desk. She looked up, startled, and I could see the tension in her shoulders immediately. Her fingers paused on the keyboard, hands fidgeting slightly. Something in her posture told me that whatever was going through her mind, it wasn’t small. My brow furrowed just slightly, not in anger, just curiosity and concern.

I knelt slightly beside her chair, keeping my gaze on her, letting my presence settle around her like a calm anchor.

“What’s going on?” I asked gently. “You look… tense.”

She shifted, glancing away, and I could see the unease written all over her, whatever it was, it was eating her from the inside.

She let out a shaky breath, and I leaned in just a fraction, careful, patient.

“You’ve got me right here. Always. Now tell me what's making you stress like that"