“I sent you the report,” he said, switching quickly into work mode. “The total in Accounts Payable isn’t tying to the subledger. I checked it twice but... something’s still off.”
I raised a brow. “Maybe you skipped something. You do that a lot. Clumsy.”
He scoffed. “Come on, no. I checked it several times. It’s real. I’m not bothering you just to—” He waved vaguely, meaningnot just to comment on whatever you were reading.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll take a look.”
“Thanks, boss. I’ll go back to my seat now so you can continue with the eleven things you should never do...” he teased.
“Oh, shut up.” I rolled my eyes, smiling.
He caught it instantly, an amused curve forming on his lips. “That’s better,” he said lightly. “You look much nicer when you smile a little. You’ve been... kind of tense these past few days. Hard to look at.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Seriously?”
He laughed and stepped back. “Alright, alright. I’ll get out of your way.”
—?—
Adrian
I waited for Elena in the lobby of her office, standing off to the side where I could see the elevators clearly. She had agreed to let me pick her up today, and I planned to take her out to dinner before heading home. Nothing extravagant. Just something that might feel a little closer to normal.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. I spotted her instantly, walking out beside someone I recognized. Her junior. We’d met once at our wedding, and Elena had mentioned him a few times over the years, just in passing. He said something that made her shake her head with a faint exhale, but then she smiled. And for a moment... she looked lighter.
I watched her until she noticed me standing there. Whatever expression she had a second ago vanished. Her posture straightened, her guard slipping back into place the instant our eyes met. She walked toward me, and the guy she’d been speaking with gave her a polite nod before parting ways.
Elena didn’t say much as we made our way to the parking lot. I opened the passenger door for her and helped her in. Her belly had grown so much these past months that even the smallest movement seemed to require effort. I placed a steady hand on her back, supporting her until she settled into the seat.
“Got you,” I murmured, but she didn’t respond.
I closed the door gently and circled to the driver’s side.
Inside the car, I tried breaking the silence.
“How was work today?”
She didn’t answer. Her elbow rested against the window, her chin propped on her hand as she stared outside, choosing the view of passing buildings over my face. I swallowed whatever comment I had next and focused on driving.
When I pulled up in front of an Italian restaurant, she frowned and finally turned to look at me.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, weary and suspicious.
“I wanted to take you out to dinner,” I said calmly. “I thought we could eat your favorite.”
Her lips twitched into something between disbelief and annoyance. “Right. Like that makes any difference.”
I didn’t react to the sarcasm. Not because I didn’t have anything to say—God knows I did—but because the wrong wordscould push her even farther away and she was far enough already.
I simply stepped out of the car and walked around to open her door.
When we were already inside the restaurant, I helped her settle into her seat before taking my own across from her. She still avoided my eyes, choosing instead to study the interior, the soft lighting, the framed photographs, anything that wasn’t me.
The waiter approached. “What would you like, ma’am?”
Elena didn’t hesitate. “Mafalda bolognese, please.”
“And make sure it’s pregnancy-safe,” I added before she could say anything else.
