LOGINDr. Chen's office looked exactly the way I remembered it, same beige walls, same slightly too-cheerful watercolor print above the exam table."You're quiet," Callum said."I'm nervous.""About the results, or about whatever's actually been sitting on you the last few days.""Both, probably.""You could tell me which parts belong to which. It might make one of them easier to carry.""I'm handling it.""That's not what I asked." He said it without any real edge to it, more tired than accusing. "I'm not trying to corner you into a conversation you're not ready for. I'd just rather you knew I'd noticed, instead of both of us pretending I hadn't.""I know you noticed. I'm not pretending you didn't.""Alright." He let it sit there, unresolved, and I appreciated it more than I probably showed, the fact that he didn't need an answer right now badly enough to keep chasing one.I didn't answer that, mostly because I genuinely didn't have a version of the truth ready that wouldn't require handin
I stood there staring at that faint, barely-there line longer than I needed to, waiting for it to either resolve into something I could trust or vanish back into nothing, and it did neither. It just stayed exactly as faint as it had been the first second I saw it, and I found myself feeling two entirely different things at once, so completely that neither one canceled the other out. Something that might have been joy, if I'd let it all the way in. And underneath that, quieter, more stubborn, the memory of her mouth on his, still sitting in my chest exactly where I'd left it three hours ago."It's early," Callum said, quiet, still crouched beside me on the bathroom floor. "Too early to know anything for certain from a line that faint. We should call the clinic in the morning. Get the actual blood work done.""Okay.""Are you alright.""I don't know what I am right now, honestly." That much, at least, was true, even if I let him believe it meant something simpler than it did."That's fa
Callum's POVI'd meant to say something to Odessa that morning. I'd stood in the kitchen with the sentence half formed, something about the distance, something about how tired I was of both of us pretending we didn't notice it, and she'd left for the studio before I found the nerve to finish it. I told myself I'd try again that evening. I didn't yet know how badly the evening was going to get away from me.Ivy came by around six, ostensibly for the last of the transition paperwork, though we'd finished that inside twenty minutes and she'd made no move to leave."Can I ask you something. Off the record.""That depends entirely on the question.""Are you two still doing the clinical rounds. The appointments, the scheduling, all of it." She said it lightly, turning her cup a slow circle on the desk without drinking from it."That's not a conversation I'm having with you.""I'll take that as a no, then." She studied me a moment, something almost sympathetic in it, which somehow made what
It was well past seven by the time I reached his floor, the last of the daylight already gone from the windows lining the hallway, most of the other offices dark, just one door at the far end still lit.I heard her before I saw either of them, a sound I didn't immediately place, low and broken, nothing like any version of Ivy I'd ever encountered."...I don't even know why I fought so hard to come back here," she was saying, voice thick, unsteady. "Everyone in that boardroom still looks at me like I'm something to be managed. My own mother hasn't called once since the vote. Warrick was right about one thing, at least. Nobody in this family actually wants me here. They just didn't want the lawsuit.""That's not true." Callum's voice, quiet, careful."Isn't it.""I wanted you back, Ivy. Not because of the lawsuit. Because you're good at your job, and because whatever else is true about the last year, I don't actually think you deserved to lose everything over one leaked article.""You'r
Simone picked the coffee shop, which should have warned me she'd also pick the entire conversation before I'd even sat down. It was a small, crowded place a few blocks from the studio, mismatched chairs, a chalkboard menu half rubbed out from use, exactly the kind of place I suspected she'd chosen specifically because it left no room for either of us to perform anything. Someone a few tables over was wearing a perfume so strong it reached me before I'd even sat down, sweet and cloying in a way that made my eyes water slightly, and I found myself angling my chair a few unsubtle degrees away from it before I'd consciously decided to, chalking it up to the place being too crowded for its own ventilation."You're doing the thing," she said, before I'd gotten my coat off."What thing.""The thing where you smile with your mouth but your shoulders stay up around your ears the whole time. I noticed it Monday too. I just didn't have coffee yet to properly diagnose it.""I don't have a diagnos
I woke up Monday with a headache that no amount of coffee seemed interested in fixing, which felt, at this point, like a fairly accurate summary of the entire month.The coffee itself tasted strange too, faintly metallic, like I'd been chewing on a coin, and I dumped the first cup and made a second one, and when that tasted the same I decided the problem was probably the beans and didn't think about it again beyond that.I was more tired than the headache alone accounted for, the particular bone-deep exhaustion that four separate nights of technically decent sleep hadn't managed to touch, and I put that down to the same cause I put most things down to lately, a marriage that required considerably more energy to maintain politely than it had ever required to actually be in.Callum was already gone by the time I came downstairs, another note on the counter, shorter than the last one. Early meeting. Back for dinner tonight, I think.I think. Not a promise. Just an estimate, the kind you







