My throat tightens.
She moves closer, deliberate, each step punctuated by the sharp click of her heels against the floor. I can’t look at her, not fully. My gaze drifts back to Alex instead.
He’s staring at me.
Not at her. At me.
Unblinking and unreadable. Always unreadable.
She stops just beside me, her perfume brushing the air between us, her eyes sliding over me like she’s fitting pieces together. Then she scoffs softly, as if the puzzle’s been solved.
“Will you be at the dinner party?”
My brows knit.Dinner party?
Her smile deepens at my confusion.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Sasha will give you an invite.”
Sasha.
I’ve never heard anyone call him that.
Before I can untangle that thought, she tilts her head toward Alex, eyes glittering with something sly.
“Won’t you, baby?”
Baby.
The word claws at my chest. My heart lurches, dropping heavy, like it’s trying to escape. I look at him almost desperately, searching for a flicker of denial, of reassurance, of anything. But his face is carved in stone, as impenetrable as ever.
Her smirk widens. She pats my shoulder once, almost mockingly, before turning toward the elevator.
I don’t move.
I don’t watch her go. I just hear the click of her heels fading, the soft chime of the elevator, the doors sliding shut.
And beneath it all, my pulse keeps roaring in my ears. My hearing aid amplifies it until it’s all I can hear. A storm trapped inside me. I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and my chest aches from it.
And then—finally, finally—I look at Alex.
Waiting.
Waiting for a word or an explanation.
For anything.
Explain what, Lucas?I ask myself.
I don’t know.
Just—something.
Because I don’t know what to do with the wreckage inside me. With the storm clawing at my ribs. With the unbearable silence stretching between us, heavier than her presence, heavier than everything.
***
“You didn’t quit your job.”
