Chapter 98: Ten Minutes. My Office.

One Week Later A week had passed since the day I unraveled in Roman’s arms. Seven days of pretending like my chest wasn’t constantly aching for him, like my skin didn’t burn when he wasn’t near. Like the space and distance he'd given me—just like I had asked—didn't end up killing me, instead of making me feel alive. So I buried myself in work. It was easier to drown in spreadsheets and phone calls than sit still and remember the way he’d held me—so fiercely, so tenderly, like he could break the world in half if it meant keeping me safe. Then he'd given me space. But even in the hum of the office, he was there. In the brush of air against my neck that felt like his breath. In the weight of silence between meetings that made me wonder if he was watching somehow. In the way I caught myself smiling for no reason, only to shake it off quickly before anyone noticed. In the tight press of my thighs against each other. It was stupid. I was supposed to be focusing on work, on rebuilding the pie