Gwen's POV If this event hadn't been scheduled months ago, with printed invitations, blocked calendars, confirmed RSVPs, and a fully aligned team, I wouldn't have gone. I would have come up with an elegant excuse. An unavoidable meeting. A sudden migraine. A "last-minute emergency" delivered with the ease of someone who, honestly, could afford to disappear for a night. But it wasn't just a night. It was a stage. A microphone. A photo. A title: Women and Leadership. And in the last few days, my life had turned into a series of small survivals that didn't fit neatly into a panel discussion. I stood in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting a simple earring, when Nick appeared behind me. He didn't say anything right away. He just watched me with that look that always seemed to know what I wasn't saying. He stepped closer and rested his hands on the vanity on either side of me, without trapping me in. It was a simple gesture, and still, I felt like someone had set a comfortin
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