The following morning, I showed up at the office dressed as I always was.

In my hands, however, I carried a small backpack and a thick folder containing hospital reports, treatment plans, and care schedules.

I walked through the doors calmly, ignoring the exhaustion that clung to me like a shadow.

When my coworkers noticed me, the office grew uncomfortably quiet.

It wasn’t shock that I had returned so soon—it was what I brought with me.

set the folder on my desk, powered on my computer, and began methodically working through my tasks.

When my boss approached, clearly prepared to question my presence, I met his gaze and spoke evenly. “I’ve separated the two,” I said. “My work is here.

My personal life is at the hospital.

I’ll complete what needs to be done today, then I’m going back to my son.” There was no frustration in my tone, only clarity.

He hesitated, realizing that commitment isn’t defined solely by time spent in an office chair.

By the end of the day, everything assigned to me was finished.

Emails were answered, responsibilities handled, loose ends tied.

I left without further discussion and returned to the hospital, where Liam welcomed me with a weak but genuine smile.