And something—someone—is about to push too hard.
My phone buzzed.
Sage.
I let it go to voicemail.
Another buzz.
An email.
I silenced the phone and told myself I’d call her back when my head stopped pounding.
It didn’t.
The desk phone rang instead.
“Ethan,” her voice said, clipped and bright in that way that meant she wasn’t actually calm. “Why haven’t you returned any of my texts or emails?”
I rubbed my face. “Baby, I don’t know. It’s been a real shit day. The bosses are pissed. Everyone’s pissed.”
She scoffed softly. “I work with highly litigious lawyers, Ethan. This is nothing.”
I winced.
“I guess you can’t meet for lunch then,” she continued. “I’ll just work through it.”
Relief slipped out before I could stop it. “Thanks, baby.”
A beat.
“See you tonight,” she said.
I hesitated.
“I actually, uh… I have plans.”
It landed between us like a dropped plate.
“Oh,” she said. Flat. “Fine. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’m gonna be out late,” I added, too quickly. “Maybe you should stay at your place tonight.”
Silence.
I heard voices near my desk—Jordan laughing about something, Beth murmuring a response—and suddenly I wanted to rewind the last ten seconds of my life.
“Baby,” I said, lowering my voice. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you alone in my place all night.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
But it wasn’t.
I could hear it in the way she said it—tight, controlled, like a door closing carefully instead of slamming.
We hung up.
I stared at my monitor, heart thudding.
