If she would have said something encouraging, he would have been vindicated. All of the countless hours spent bent over the computer, the calculator, and the microscope; all of the figuring and hypothesizing; all of his frustration—he would have been victorious, affirmed.
It didn’t have to be words, really. He would have been happy if she’d even given him a slight smile or nod.
“Your hypothesis is wrong.”
“What?”
“You obviously didn’t read the study I gave you last week. Your hypothesis is based on the old Geraut theory, which is faulty information; therefore, your results are not legitimate. You need to start over from scratch. Tomorrow I want to see a proposal—a detailed proposal—for this next experiment. We can’t afford to waste lab supplies.”
A gentle whoosh of air; emptiness where she’d been.
If only she would have at least acknowledged his efforts.
