Dave POV I opened the drawer for a contract. That was the intention. Instead, my hand brushed paper. Folded. Thin. Familiar. And before I could stop myself, I was already looking at it. Her note. Still there. Still tucked in the back right corner beneath acquisition files and legal correspondence, as though burying it under paperwork somehow made its presence less absurd. I stared at it for a moment. Then picked it up. I tell myself I kept it for legal purposes. Documentation. Proof of voluntary departure. Protection, in case she ever tried to complicate things later. A sensible explanation. A professional explanation. One that made considerably more sense than the truth, which was that I had never once managed to throw it away. I unfolded it carefully. The paper had softened slightly at the creases. Three lines. That was all. I love you, but I love my child more. I wish you the happiness you were looking for. Goodbye, Lydia. My jaw tightened. Even now, mon
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