Everything We Bury

The first time Daniel brought her coffee, Anna didn’t think much of it. He was the kind of intern who went out of his way to look useful, always early, always polite, always smiling just a little too easily.

He stood in the doorway of her office that morning, holding two cups. By evening, he would have his shirt sleeves rolled up, veins visible beneath skin too smooth to belong in a cubicle. He looked more like a campaign model than someone who fetched documents and made spreadsheets.

But for now, Anna looked up from her screen, not even smiling the slightest. “You didn’t have to.”

“I was getting one for myself,” Daniel said. “Didn’t think you’d mind.” His voice was confident but light, an easy rhythm that almost dared her to challenge it.

Anna leaned back in her chair, adjusting her blazer. “I don’t,” she admitted, taking the cup and raising an eyebrow. It was iced, just as she liked it. “Thank you.”

She reached for her purse and pulled out a few bills. “Here-”

He laughed, a low sound that felt too intimate for eight-thirty in the morning, and shocked Anna that she liked the sound of it.

“Anna,” he said, her name as if he’d repeated it a dozen times in his head before this moment. She had corrected him once too many times- Mrs. Butler- but he had only nodded, as though the distinction meant nothing to him.

“It’s fine,” he tilted his head slightly. The movement somehow sharpened the angle of his jaw beneath the office light.

Flirting. That’s what he was doing. Anna recognized it immediately, which was why she still held the cash in her hand. “You’re a student,” she said evenly. “You need your money.”

He smiled faintly then, dark eyes catching the light spilling through her office windows. Sharp, calm, and too self-assured.

And annoyingly attractive.

Her pulse quickened despite herself, though she told herself it was only because he reminded her a little of Jake when they were younger, before he hollowed out.

“Anna,” Daniel said again, softer this time, almost conspiratorial. “I assure you, I will never need or lack money in my life.”

The words should have sounded arrogant, but they didn’t. There was no boasting in them. Just certainty and the kind that came from someone who had never once worried about survival. Rich. So he had not just been wearing top-brand-name attire from a relative of some sort after all, like she had assumed all the time.

Money had never particularly impressed Anna either. Unlike Daniel, she hadn’t grown up with the certainty of always having it. Her family had struggled in the quiet, ordinary way most families did.

Overdue bills, careful grocery lists, and secondhand furniture were kept years longer than they should have been. But she had never known hunger or lacked anything much, as her parents had never let them feel the brunt of any suffering.

Anna had a happy childhood until their deaths, taking along her brother with them.

Then she and Jake had built their lives from nothing, together. Two exhausted university students surviving on ambition, instant noodles, and cheap coffee. Neither of them came from wealth, and neither had searched for someone rich to rescue them from the lives they’d been born into.

Everything they had now, they had earned themselves.

Ten years later, Jake was one of the university’s youngest professors, admired in academic circles, while Anna had secured her place at Langston & Hale, the prestigious law firm deeply tied to the university through donors, legal affairs, and board connections.

On paper, they were the kind of couple people envied- successful, polished, untouchable.

Only Anna and Jake knew how fragile it all really was.

“Money isn’t why I’m here,” Daniel said. His gaze held hers steadily. “I came to learn. To experience things.”

For a moment, Anna didn’t know what to say, because his words unsettled her.

More than that, it unsettled her that he seemed completely unaffected by the wedding ring on her finger.

__

By the time Anna got home, the sky had dimmed into that gray-blue hue that always made the city feel a little more honest. She dropped her briefcase by the door, kicked off her heels, and set the oven to preheat, taking off her jacket and pants, and into an apron.

Chicken. Simple, mindless, and bought from the supermarket just down the road. She seasoned it the way she always did, then slid it in before heading upstairs, taking her discarded clothing with her.

The house was too quiet. It had been that way for over a year now. Nothing felt the same since Jacob’s death. No laughter was heard in the house, no more bobos for Anna to kiss better, no toys for her to pick up, or have Jake screaming when he stepped on any...

No feelings or emotions in this house anymore. Just numb.

Even with soft music on, she was empty on the inside.

Steam curled up from the tub as she sank into it, the heat stinging her skin before settling into comfort. She closed her eyes for a moment, and she let herself relax, making her mind go blank about everything except Jacob. She stuck to where it was safe- a newborn to now, taking his first steps. To Jake and her when they were happy.

The sound of the door downstairs broke that illusion. Keys, a coat being hung, then the low murmur of shoes against tile. “Anna?”

Jake’s voice still did something to her, though it felt like muscle memory now. “Upstairs,” she called, even though he couldn’t hear her.

Jake appeared in the doorway a minute later, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp from rain. He smiled faintly, polite, but didn’t come closer. It melted her heart every time he smiled at her.

Not just his even pearly whites, set against a full pair of lips, nor his strong jawline and perfect cheekbones. Or the way his thick, well-shaped eyebrows furrowed in. Or his light eyes that suited his darker features, which added to his intense stares.

It was him. The man.

“You started dinner,” he said, and her eyes fell on the curl that fell over his forehead.

“It’s in the oven. Should be ready soon.” Anna pulled in her bottom lip, her eyes dropping to his mouth.

He nodded, leaning against the frame. His eyes lingered for a second longer than usual, tracing her collarbone, the waterline, the sheen on her skin. For a heartbeat, she thought maybe tonight would be different.

“Come here,” she said softly, her heart- as well as other areas- throbbing with the need of him.

He knelt after a bit of hesitation, which pierced her heart like a tiny needle. Jake brushed a wet strand of hair from her face, and when he kissed her, she tasted the same faint warmth she’d been chasing for months.

Their lips showed they needed more, and for a minute, they deepened the kiss. His mouth trailing kisses down her, moaning her name and saying hoarsely how much he loved her, sending heat waves through her veins.

But when she reached for him- her wet body tilting closer to his, Jake pulled back, breaking the kiss and pushing her away from him.

Slowly, the fingers at the back of his neck loosened, as the flame within her dimmed, sending another stab through her heart at his rejection.

“I have papers to go through,” he murmured, standing and clearing his throat.

Her heart sank before she could stop it. “Jake-”

He was already moving toward the door. “Dinner smells good,” he said, not turning around. “Meet you in a few.”

She watched him leave, the silence swelling in his absence, and for a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the empty doorway, this time no tears flowing at his rejection. It was time she accepted that their son’s death hadn’t just taken him.

It had taken them.

Her mind then fills with Daniel.

He didn’t seem to be the type to reject her touch.