grandfather' s dusty workshop. He was teaching me how to carve a small wooden bird, his large, calloused hands guiding my small ones. The smell of sawdust and varnis

n lobby of our office building. It was the night of the annual firm party three years ago. I was wearing a new dress, my heart poundin

voice trembling slightly. "

readable. "Sarah. You've bee

he words tumbling out before I could stop them

ame cool, distant gaze. "I see," he said finally. "We have a professional relationship, Sarah. Let's keep

phone. I fumbled for it on the coffee table,

" he demanded without a hello.

umbled, trying to clear

g proposal. My phone was on the table. Henderson needs me at the

mered, now fully awake and scrambl

tone softening slightly when he mentioned her name. "Just

angled in the power cord for my laptop at the bottom of my work tote. An accident, but I kne

the radio. Rain began to streak down the windshield, the gray, oppressive weather matching my mood perfectly. Emily sat in the

nsole, buzzed. A notification lit up the screen. It was a ca

the reality I had been trying to deny. It wasn' t just a crush on his part. It was serious. All

d asked, glancing back.

. "Just a reminder," I said, my words feeling lik

back to the road. He didn' t noti

the Sterling project is green-lit," Emily said che

the rain-slicked streets. The city I once loved now felt like a cage