What a fucking long day.

I can barely remember what peace feels like. My body’s begging for rest, my mind for silence. I need to take some damn time off.

But I can’t go home yet. There’s still that stupid interview for the new secretary. Honestly, I just want it over and done with.

I glance at the clock, impatience gnawing at me. She’s late.

I let out a dry laugh, shake my head and then I hear it. A knock on the door.

“Come in,” I say, my voice rough, clipped.

And then she steps inside and I swear, my body turns to stone.

Her.

It’s her. For a second, I think I’m dreaming. But she’s real. Standing there in front of me, like no time has passed. Same eyes. Same silence between us.

My pulse slams in my ears. I can’t breathe. What the hell is she doing here?

I haven’t seen her since high school. Since the day she tore everything apart and left me standing in the wreckage.

And now she walks back into my life — like she never left. Like she didn’t break me.

I can’t tell if I want to yell or pull her into my arms.