Ethan’s Perspective

  Date: February 14, 2025

  Ethan had been running through test cases when Ada spoke up.

  “This edge case,” she said. “The way you have it set up—it assumes the error is always user input. But what if it’s a system issue?”

  He didn’t look up. “It’s not. Logs show most failures come from user errors.”

  “Most failures,” she repeated. “But not all.”

  He kept typing. It wasn’t worth the adjustment. The dataset showed the majority of failures were user-driven. The probability of system failure was low enough that it didn’t justify a separate test case.

  Still, he started considering ways to work around her. A quick redirect—framing the issue differently, adjusting the scope slightly, keeping things efficient.

  Then—

  “Look, I get it,” she said, her tone even. “You’ve been doing this longer, and you’re probably right. But if you disagree, can you just tell me instead of working around me?”

  That made him pause.

  She had caught it.

  Not just the flaw in the test case, but the way he handled conversations. The way he subtly maneuvered things so they followed his lead.

  Most people never noticed.

  Even fewer called him on it.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  He looked up. Studied her for a second longer than necessary.

  Something shifted.

  It wasn’t just that she had a point. It was the way she saw it.

  He had already respected her intelligence, her determination, her refusal to crumble under pressure. But this—this was different.

  She wasn’t just analyzing data. She was analyzing him.

  After a beat, he nodded. “You might have a point. Let’s test for both.”

  Her expression flickered—surprise, maybe—but she didn’t question it.

  Ethan turned back to his screen.

  He wasn’t going to explain himself.

  She had figured it out.

  That was enough.

  Valentine’s Day Office Setup

  By Thursday, the break room looked ridiculous.

  Pink streamers, heart-shaped balloons, a massive TechJolt Loves You! sign—it was everything Ethan disliked about forced office enthusiasm.

  Samantha, obviously, was responsible.

  “Write something nice and anonymous,” she said, handing him a stack of Valentine’s cards. “It’s for the Valentine exchange.”

  “Do we have to?” Ethan asked flatly.

  “Yes,” Samantha said firmly. “It’s good for morale.”

  Leo smirked. “I’ll make sure to write something extra special for you, Ethan.”

  Ethan didn’t even glance at him. “Can’t wait.”

  Leo chuckled, clearly entertained, before wandering off.

  Ethan looked down at the blank cards in his hand.

  He usually ignored things like this. He could have ignored this too.

  But he didn’t.

  The Anonymous Valentine

  It wasn’t much.

  Just a few words, carefully chosen.

  “You see things people don’t, and you never let yourself give up. Hold onto that.”

  Not sentimental. Not romantic.

  But true.

  She was the only one who challenged him enough to linger in his thoughts.

  That was reason enough.

  He placed the card in the stack and didn’t think about it again.

  At least, that’s what he told himself.

  End-of-Day Thoughts

  That night, Ethan sat at his desk, scrolling through unread emails, half-listening to the quiet hum of the office.

  Somewhere across the room, Ada was probably still working.

  He didn’t check.

  As he reached for his coffee, he hesitated, then cocked his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  It had been a long time since he had written someone a Valentine.

  A long time since he had wanted to.

  Shaking off the thought, he turned back to his screen and got back to work.

  Ethan didn't quite get that card on the first go. He wasn't...actually very good at cards.

  That said, iteration is the key to most solutions.