The meeting started the same way it always did.
Same room. Same screen. Same chairs that were never arranged quite right. Harvey sat near the middle of the table with his notebook open, pen resting between his fingers. He had already written down the main points, even though he knew most of them wouldn't be needed.
David Collins stood near the screen, flipping through slides without much enthusiasm. This wasn't a big meeting. Just a weekly update. Still, Harvey felt the familiar tension settle in his chest.
"Alright," David said. "Let's keep this quick."
He looked to his left. "Jake, can you walk us through the timeline changes?"
Jake straightened slightly. He didn't look surprised. He never did.
"Sure," Jake said, already leaning forward. "We're seeing a small delay on the client side, but nothing critical. If we adjust the handoff by a week, it should smooth things out."
David nodded. "Okay. That works."
The conversation moved on.
Harvey waited.
He glanced at his notes. The delay Jake mentioned was something Harvey had flagged two days ago in his report. It wasn't important who noticed it first. That wasn't how things worked. Still, a small part of him had expected something. A look. A question. Anything.
Nothing came.
"Laura," David said, turning slightly. "Your comparison from last quarter was useful here."
Laura nodded once. "I'll update it by end of day."
"Good."
Harvey lowered his gaze to the page in front of him. His pen tapped once, then stopped. No one had done anything wrong. No one had ignored him on purpose.
That was the problem.
The meeting ended ten minutes early. Chairs scraped lightly as people stood. Conversations started up in low voices, already moving on to other things.
Jake passed by Harvey on his way out. "Hey," he said. "Nice catch on that report earlier."
Harvey looked up. "Thanks."
Jake smiled, then hesitated for a second. "I think David wants me to follow up with the client later. Just a heads up."
"Okay."
Jake walked off, already checking his phone.
Harvey stayed seated for a moment longer, then closed his notebook.
Back at his desk, he opened his email. A new message sat near the top. It wasn't addressed to him directly. He was copied near the bottom.
*Following up on next steps,* the subject read.
Jake's name was first.
Harvey read through it carefully. The plan was solid. Simple. Safe.
He noticed his own work referenced halfway down.
*Based on earlier analysis…*
No name attached.
He leaned back slightly in his chair.
It wasn't anger he felt. Not jealousy either. Just a dull awareness, like noticing a bruise you didn't remember getting.
During lunch, Emily sat across from him, scrolling through her phone. She looked up after a moment.
"Meeting okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," Harvey said.
She waited. When nothing else came, she nodded and went back to her screen.
They ate in silence for a while. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. Harvey caught himself wanting to say something, then stopping. He didn't know what the point would be.
Back at work, he focused on smaller tasks. Cleaning up data. Checking numbers. Things that didn't require decisions.
The project email was still there.
He didn't open it.
Near the end of the day, as he was closing out a report, the familiar sensation returned. Not sudden. Not sharp. Just a shift in awareness, like the room had tilted slightly.
The words appeared quietly, resting inside his vision without blocking anything else.
[Outcome forming]
Harvey froze his hands on the keyboard.
No timeframe. No summary. Just that.
He stared at it for a few seconds, then looked away. The words stayed. Calm. Patient.
Outcome forming.
Not good. Not bad.
Just forming.
The words faded after a moment, leaving the screen unchanged. The office noise returned fully. Phones rang. Someone laughed near the printer.
Harvey exhaled slowly.
On the way home, he thought about the meeting. About the email. About how nothing had gone wrong, and yet something felt different.
That night, his mother called.
"Did you eat?" Elaine asked, skipping any greeting.
"Yes," Harvey said. It wasn't entirely true.
"You sound tired."
"I am."
There was a pause. "Work?"
"It's fine."
She didn't argue. "Get some rest," she said instead.
After the call ended, Harvey sat on the edge of his bed for a long time. He didn't open the notebook. He didn't check his phone.
Outcome forming.
He didn't know what it meant yet. But for the first time, he understood that waiting wasn't neutral.
It was shaping something, whether he touched it or not.