"You've got that look again," Emma observed, glancing up from her laptop.
Alek, caught hovering in the doorway of her home office, straightened. "What look?"
"The 'Is-Emma-pushing-herself-too-hard' look." She closed her computer. "I'm just answering emails, not running a marathon."
Two weeks had passed since Franklin's cardiac episode. The doctors had adjusted his medications, ordered more rest, but otherwise allowed him to return home. Emma's physical recovery progressed steadily, her follow-up appointments showing proper healing.
Emotionally, however, the landscape remained frozen between her and Alek.
"The doctor said to ease back into work," he reminded her.
"Answering emails is 'easing,'" Emma countered. "The team needs guidance on the new community initiative."
Alek nodded, though tension remained in his jaw. "I've got a strategy meeting. Need anything before I go?"
"I'm fine." The words had become her mantra, repeated so often they'd lost all meaning.
After Alek left, Emma reop
