est, but I kept my face a blank mask. I stared out the window, watching th

"You put more work into this proposal than anyone." It was

replied, my voice

mirror, a flicker of confusion

ed, not wanting to give him any more information

picked up. Emily, who hadn't brought a jacket, shivered. Instantly, David was shrugging off his own expensive coat and draping it over her shou

mbrella, and David had looked at me with annoyance. "An architect who doesn't check the weather forecast? Be more prepared next time, Miller," he had said, before striding off, leaving me to shiver in t

ied the tension cables, the concrete pylons, anything to distract from the ache in my heart. This i

ffice, it was already dark. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. I sat at my desk, trying to finalize my transition notes for whoever would take over my projects, but th

eight was draped over my shoulders. I looked down and saw a familiar gray wool coat. It was David' s. The one he ha

t my skin. For a moment, I let myself feel the warmth, a dangerous, familiar flicker of hope trying to reignite. But then the image of him smiling at Emily, of the notification on his phone, flooded my mind. This wasn't kindness. It was probably just an automatic g