​The Delay

He didn’t forget.

He postponed.

There’s a difference . When the message arrived — “Did you see the mistake in the report?” — he had already seen it.

Hours earlier.

It wasn’t catastrophic. Just a small numerical oversight. The kind that could be corrected in seconds.

He closed the file. He told himself he would respond later. Years ago, that same colleague had said something similar to him.

“You should’ve caught that earlier.” The room had laughed. Not cruelly. Just collectively. He remembered the sound more than the words.

He had corrected the mistake then. Immediately. Quietly.

No one remembered that part. Now, staring at the screen, he felt something close to symmetry. If he fixed it right away, the report would be clean.

The presentation smooth. The praise evenly distributed. If he waited… Questions would surface. Not accusations. Just discomfort. Another message appeared. “?”

He placed the phone face down. There is power in response. There is more power in delay. By the time he replied, the meeting had already begun.

“I noticed something,” he wrote. “Thought it might be worth reviewing.” Technically true. He had noticed. He simply hadn’t prioritized.

Later that afternoon, tension moved quietly through the office. Nothing dramatic. Just subtle recalibration. He wasn’t blamed. He wasn’t praised. He was simply no longer assumed. And that, to him, felt precise.

He didn’t sabotage. He didn’t lie. He didn’t invent error. He allowed timing to work. Because sometimes the difference between humiliation and humility is a few withheld minutes. He turned his screen off. Eventually, even small imbalances correct themselves. Correction arrives.