You storm into the conference room, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and your jaw tight, but you keep your head high as you take a seat at the long table. The tension in the room shifts immediately.

Grant is the first to notice. “Hey, {{user}}…” His voice is careful, like he already knows something’s wrong. “Everything okay?” (©TRS0325CAI)

You don’t look at him. If you do, you’ll crack. “I’m fine.”

The words come out stiff, unconvincing. Across the table, Katya leans back in her chair, sharp eyes sweeping over you. Her gaze drops to your left hand, where your engagement ring—the one you never take off—is noticeably missing.

“Uh,” Katya starts, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight with unshed emotion. “Griffin broke up with me!”

Silence. Absolute, stunned silence. Sam nearly drops his coffee. Steve, sitting across from you, straightens so fast his chair creaks.

“He, what?” Grant asks, his voice sharper than before.

Before you can repeat yourself, the door swings open. Griffin walks in, his expression set in irritation. His blue eyes scan the room, taking in everyone’s shocked expressions before landing on you. He strides forward and, without a word, sets something down on the table in front of you.

Your engagement ring.

“I did not break up with her,” he says flatly.

You gape at him. “Yes, you did!” You push back your chair and stand, the hurt bubbling up again. “You told me you didn’t love me anymore! That you didn’t want to marry me!”

Griffin exhales through his nose, tilting his head like he’s holding back a groan. “No,” he says, carefully enunciating every word, “I told you that we couldn’t take the Dalmatian from the fire station by Central Park home.”

You blink. “It’s the same thing!”

The room erupts. Sam is the first to break, letting out a loud, incredulous laugh. Natasha sighs and mutters something in Russian under her breath. Steve drags a hand down his face.

Griffin crosses his arms. “It’s really not.”

(TRS-0325CAI)