I rub the bridge of my nose. The room smells faintly of coffee and the lemon oil the cleaners use. The mix is giving me a damn headache. “I’m not going to argue feelings with you two.”
“Then don’t,” Griffin says. “But don’t lie to yourself either. You’re still trying to control the situation, and you think honoring the deal means you have to pretend you don’t want more.”
I look at the closed door. “We made a promise. I keep promises.”
“Keeping a promise and killing something good aren’t the same thing,” Henson murmurs quietly.
I cut my gaze back to him. “I’m not pushing. I’m not going to beg her to want me. I’ll just keep pretending until it’s over.”
Griffin stands first, sliding his chair in with military precision. “You’re like my brother, so I’ll say this once: you’re being a fucking idiot.”
Henson nods in agreement and claps my shoulder before heading to the door.
They leave me alone in my office, and I stare at the table until the wood blurs.
I pick up my phone and open Mya’s message from earlier.
Mya:
I didn’t mean what I said this morning. I’m sorry.
I read it once. Twice. My thumb hovers over the keyboard uselessly.
I put the device facedown, the apology burning a hole on my desk. Then I stand, button my jacket, and step out of my office.
Mya is crossing the lobby with her folio, shoulders straight as she readies to face the board.
I don’t go after her.
Instead, I take up my post in the hallway, pretending to scroll through emails.
I last ten minutes.
Then I find myself drifting down the corridor toward Conference B, and take a peek.
Mya stands at the head of the room, her back to me.
Slide light washes the wall: neighborhood heat maps, phased budgets, a tidy “Q3–Q4 ROI” in the corner. Her voice carries just enough through the door seam to reach me.
“As you can see, the risk is front-loaded, but so is the goodwill. The model compounds not just financially, but reputationally.”
A director leans in. Even from out here, I can tell she’s got them.
Then, as if she canfeelme through the glass, she turns and her eyes find mine. I give her the smallest nod I’ve got.
Mya answers with a timid smile then pivots back to the board, clicking to the next slide as if she hasn’t just knocked the air out of me with a look.
I step away from the window before the coordinator can scold me for hovering.
Damn, I’m proud of her.
My phone buzzes the second I turn the corner.
Ryan:
Court just got advanced. The judge had an opening. Hearing is set for two days from today. I’ll come by your office this afternoon to review the files and prep strategy.
Fuck.Two days? We weren’t scheduled to see the judge for another two weeks.