JULIAN

I got to the office just before nine in the morning. The place already smelled like fresh coffee and printer ink. David sat at his desk, scrolling through emails with tired eyes.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, glancing up as I walked past.

"Fine," I said. It was a lie, and we both knew it, but he didn't push.

I shut myself inside my office, closed the door, and dropped into my chair. Papers and spreadsheets waited on the screen, but my mind wouldn't stay put. It kept sliding back to Claire, the hurt look on her face when I walked out this morning. The way her...