I never imagined I would be sitting across from Daniel again, lit by the icy glow of computer screens and crisis reports instead of the warmth we once knew. The boardroom was silent except for the constant click-click of keyboards as we sifted through the data, trying to understand how incredibly fast things were collapsing. My nonprofit, my life’s work, was unraveling.He sat at the edge of the polished table, sleeves rolled, eyes fixed on the financial dashboard. He looked tired. Not the physical kind, but the soul-deep exhaustion of a man who has spent years fighting a war no one knew existed.I hated that part of me softened at the sight.“You’re too quiet,” he finally said without looking up. “Talk to me.”“I’m trying not to scream,” I replied.He glanced at me then, and for a moment we weren’t enemies, ex-lovers, or reluctant allies. We were just two people watching everything burn.I breathed in sharply. “Donors don’t pull out in synchronized waves unless someone is orchestrati
Last Updated : 2025-11-26 Read more