“I saw my boss at a restaurant with his wife. I went to say hi. He had told us a day ago that he was going to become a dad, so I smiled and congratulated his wife.” She froze at my words, her face draining of color. The clatter of cutlery and murmurs of surrounding diners suddenly receded into silence in my ears.
My boss, Michael, reached out and gripped my arm. His eyes darted between me and his wife, the tension in his jaw sharp and sudden. He leaned in and whispered, “My wife actually is…” I waited. The hum of conversation returned slowly, a soft wave returning after a storm. Michael’s hand tightened for a moment before he released me, and he cleared his throat.
He looked at his wife, then at me, and said, “She is not pregnant.” His voice was calm but weighted. I swallowed, awkward apology forming in my throat. His wife’s eyes glistened. She managed a faint, sorrowful smile. I nodded, swallowing my excitement, “I’m sorry I jumped to a conclusion.”
We sat in an uneasy quiet until Michael said gently, “Thank you for your kindness. It’s a sensitive time, and your thought came from a good place.” I left soon after, the evening casting long shadows across my thoughts: assumptions, kindness, and the fragile spaces where people hide their hearts.