ADAM

Claire's perfume lingered long after she was gone — something floral and heavy, the kind that clung to air and skin until it suffocated everything else. I'd hoped her slamming the door meant the argument was over, but the universe rarely gave me such mercy.

The door burst open again.

She stood there — arms crossed, eyes burning with the same fury that had first attracted me years ago. Back then, I'd mistaken it for passion. Now I knew better.

"I'm not done talking, Adam," she said sharply.

I didn't look up from my papers. "You should be. I said no."

Her heels clicked across the floor until she...