DONOVAN (5:41 PM): I'm coming to your apartment.
ME (6:02 PM): Don't. I need space.
DONOVAN (6:03 PM): How much space? Because from where I'm standing, you're running away.
ME (6:05 PM): I'm not running away. I'm protecting my career.
DONOVAN (6:06 PM): By treating me like a stranger in meetings?
ME (6:07 PM): By keeping our boundaries intact. Like we agreed.
DONOVAN (6:09 PM): That's not what we agreed. We agreed to figure this out together. Not for you to shut me out the second things get complicated.
My phone rings. Donovan.
I stare at it for three rings before answering. "What?"
"Don't 'what' me." His voice has that gritty CEO growl I’ve come to know in meetings…and in bed. "Emma, talk to me. What the hell is going on?”
"Carmen pulled me aside this morning. People are talking about us. About the way you look at me in meetings. About closed-door conversations." I press my fingers to my eyes. "My worst nightmare is coming true. People think I'm sleeping with you for career advancement."
"You're not—"
"But they don't know that! They just see a young woman getting special attention from the CEO. And when they find out I'm pregnant?" My voice cracks. "It's over. My credibility, my reputation, everything I've worked for."
Silence on the other end.
"So what are you saying?" His voice is measured. Controlled. "That we can't be together because of what people mightthink?"
"I'm saying we need to be more careful. At work, we maintain complete professional distance. No special treatment. No closed-door meetings unless absolutely necessary. No looking at me like..."
"Like what?"
"Like you're remembering what I look like naked."
He exhales roughly. "That's going to be difficult considering I spent the entire weekend memorizing every inch of your body."
"Donovan—"
"But fine. If that's what you need, I'll do it. I'll be completely professional at work. But Emma?" His voice drops. "Outside of work, I'm not backing off. I meant what I said this weekend. I want this. Us. The baby. All of it."
"I know you do. I just..." I trail off, not sure how to explain the fear clawing at my chest.
"You're scared," he says quietly. "I get it. I'm scared too. But pushing me away isn't going to make this easier."
"Maybe not. But it might save my career."
"Your career is safe, Emma. You're brilliant. Everyone knows that."
"Do they? Or do they just know I'm fucking the boss?"
The words hang in the air, ugly and true.
"I should go," I say finally. "It's been a long day."
"Emma—"
"Goodnight, Donovan."
