I woke up alone.
The sheets beside me were cold. He’d left before I opened my eyes. No note. No nothing just silence and faint smell of cedar on the pillow.
Last night he’d kissed me then he walked away and I had let him like every other time.
I pressed my hands to my lips they still felt swollen but the heat was gone. In its place was something colder. Something like shame.
I found him in the study, not the kitchen. The door was half open. He stood by the window, phone to his ear, his voice low and clipped. He didn't see me. I watched him for a moment the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept running a hand through his hair.
"I don't care what it costs. Fix it." Pause. "No, I'm not coming in today. Handle it."
He ended the call and turned. Our eyes met. His face was stone.
"
